I shake my head slightly. “Thank you, but no.”
“Here. I promise I won’t make you buy me another one.”
The way the boy is staring at me, his hand holding the pretzel toward me, his soft brown eyes expectant, tugs at my heart. How can I say no?
I reach for the bread, smiling. “Okay, you win. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He grins from ear to ear before taking another bite.
I stare at the piece of bread in my hand. Oh, what the hell. After taking a bite, I address the little boy. “You were right. It’s really yummy.”
“Yep, told you. My name is Ollie by the way.”
“Nice meeting you, Ollie. I’m Blaire.”
He grins. “We can talk now since we know each other, doll.”
I want to laugh but somehow I get the feeling that it would be crushing for the young boy, so I don’t. “Doll, huh? Did someone teach you that word?”
“Yep, I got my skills from the best,” he says proudly, but then his nose scrunches up. “He doesn’t know I was listening to his conversation with his floozy. I was supposed to be focusing on doing my homework while they watched tv in the living room—”
Okay. I have to laugh. “Floozy? Where did you hear that word, Ollie? I hope he didn’t call her that name.”
“Oh, no! I heard my mom using it.”
“Did she know that you were listening?”
He blushes and looks down at his feet. “No …”
Giggling, I realize that I haven’t been this entertained in a very long time. Who knew innocence would be this sweet and fun?
I’m about to take a second bite when it dawns on me that he’s alone. Frowning, I ask, “Hey, where are your—”
“Ollie! There you are, buddy! I told you to wait for me with Frank!”
I turn in the direction of the voice. The sound stirs my memory, and when my eyes land on the man addressing Ollie, I know why. Shocked into immobility, all I can do is stare at him, the same guy from outside the Met, as he takes me in as well. A stunned expression crosses his sun-kissed face that I’m pretty sure mirrors mine.
“Hi,” I say, suddenly nervous. “Does this cute little guy belong to you?”
As soon as I ask, I see the resemblance. Glancing between them, I notice that they both have the same wavy coffee bean colored hair with natural golden highlights under the sun. Ollie’s curls are long and untamed, but the man staring at me with the most unusual, striking light brown eyes, has short hair, the top longer than the sides. They both have the same straight and elegant nose, but the man’s nose is dusted with freckles, giving him a boyish air. He’s absolutely sigh-inducing.
He puts his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and smiles, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe. Has Ollie been bothering you?” His voice is husky and deep, reminding me of old school Hollywood actors.
I look down at the grinning boy as he pushes himself closer to me. I smile and wink at him. “Not at all. As a matter of fact, he was kind enough to share his pretzel with me.”
“Yep, I was a good boy and shared like you and mom always tell me,” Ollie says.
“That’s my boy,” I hear the stranger say. The thought that he might be married is disappointing, which is totally ludicrous because I don’t even know the guy.
After taking a few steps, he sits down next to Ollie. As he wraps an arm around Ollie’s shoulders, his free hand ruffles his hair, making the kid giggle. “You scared the hell out of me, buddy. I went back to Frank’s looking for you and you were gone. I need to text Frank and let him know that I found you before he loses his shit. Seriously, you can’t do that again. I’m going to have to tell your mom and I’m pretty sure she’s going to rip me a new one.”
Ollie’s shoulders fall contritely. “I know, Uncle Ronan. I’m sorry. I got bored listening to Frank talking to his girlfriend so I left. I just wanted to sit here.”
Uncle Ronan? Hmm, I like.
The man, who is actually a lot more handsome than I remember, lifts his eyes, meeting mine, and smiles. “I can’t say that I blame you, buddy. But you can’t do that again. Promise?”
“I promise, Uncle Ronan.”
I blush and lower my gaze to the ground but watch out of the corner of my eye as they shake hands. With his attention now on Ollie, I take the opportunity to check him out. The light caramel color of his skin lets me know that he spends a lot of time under the sun or outdoors. The sexy scruff on his square jaw says he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, and the muscles in his arms, strong like corded steel, show that he likes to work out. He reminds me of a model for Gap—laid-back, sexy, and oh so very cool with a dash of rock star. I don’t think I have ever seen someone look as masculine and sexy as he does in a simple black fitted T-shirt without being totally douchey.
I continue to appraise him when his gaze connects with mine again and he smiles, almost as if he knows I’ve been watching him the entire time.
Figures. He just caught me staring.
I smile back because, really, what else can I do?
“Sorry, I’m being rude. I forgot to introduce myself,” he says.
“No worries. You must be the one who taught Ollie all his killer skills with the ladies.”
He runs his hand through his hair, groaning. “Do I even want to know?”
I shrug, enjoying myself immensely. “Oh, I don’t know … doll.”
“She seemed to like it too. She started making these funny noises and telling him not to stop and to keep going,” Ollie adds proudly.
I grin when I hear Ronan curse under his breath. Poor guy.
Leaning forward, he places his forearms on his legs and turns to look at Ollie and me, his eyes dancing with mirth and a slight blush covering the crests of his cheeks. “Glad you two are having such a good time at my expense.”
“Well … you asked, right, Ollie?”
Ollie nods his head vigorously, making his curls bounce. “Yep.”
Ronan laughs out loud, pulling Ollie closer to him and mussing up his brown hair, making him giggle. It makes me smile too. “You little rascal. You’re supposed to be on my team.”
“She smells nicer than you, Uncle, and she’s prettier too.”
I grin. “See—smart boy.”
“Jesus. How can I compete against that?”
“You can’t,” I say, laughter embedded in my voice. “I’m Blaire by the way.”
“Blaire,” he says, letting my name roll off his tongue. “It suits you. It’s very pretty.”
“Thanks.”
“So, Blaire … tell me, how is the dude in the tux?” he asks offhandedly, looking down at the ground as he runs his hand over his scruff. Though, by the way the muscles in his arms tense while he awaits my answer, I get the sense that he cares.
“You like to get straight to the point, huh? He’s gone.”
Ronan lifts his head to look me in the eye, all traces of laughter in his face replaced by something sincere, something tender. “Can’t say that I’m sorry to hear that.”
I want to speak, but the way he’s watching me, almost as if he can truly see me, creates complete chaos within me, leaving me tongue-tied. His soft brown gaze wrecks every single thought of mine.