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Bright and early on Friday morning, I meet Ryan at the Beauregard’s.

Gunner and Bluebelle jump and bark at each other, their little tails wagging a mile a minute. It’s obvious to everyone they are thrilled to see each other.

“I think we need to take them off their leashes,” I say.

Ryan nods. “Yeah, they can run and play to their heart’s content while we talk.”

My stomach drops. I do not like the sound of that. No man I know willingly suggests conversation when they could be running around with their dog. Especially in this place.

“Okay.” I set Bluebelle free, and Ryan does the same for Gunner before we walk to a nearby bench situated under a large, shady oak tree.

“It’s nice today,” he says, and I glance at him. This is worse than I originally thought. Aren’t we past the point of polite weather conversation? We’ve seen each other’s bare butts, for God’s sake.

I adjust my sunglasses, watching our dogs play while I work up the nerve to ask him what’s wrong. But before I can, a couple of people spot us and make their way over.

Of course, they want autographs and pictures. To Ryan’s credit, he patiently signs whatever they hold out and poses for multiple shots.

When it’s over, he sits with me again and takes my hand in his. That’s a good sign. Or so I hope.

He laces our fingers together. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”

Oh, God. He’s going to tell me that he doesn’t want to see me again.

I nod, staring straight ahead, even as my stomach plummets to my toes and my heart begins to ache. My stupid, foolish heart. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, too.”

“I’m not sure if you’ll like the attention you’ll start getting soon,” he continues. “I don’t want it to spook you. Or make you think I’m doing what I shouldn’t be. Sometimes the press can be harsh.”

Huh? “You’re not breaking up with me?” I ask, turning to face him. “I mean... you’re not my boyfriend. Obviously.”

Ryan looks at me for a minute before gently removing my sunglasses, setting them on the bench between us. “Who else do you think I’m dating?”

I hate he can see the vulnerability that has to be showing on my face. “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t Google you anymore.”

“Then I’ll answer my question for you.” He gazes directly into my eyes. “You are the only woman I’m seeing.”

“Okay, but I’m not sure why,” I blurt, even as my body gets all happy at his answer.

“Because you’re the only woman I want,” he says simply. “You make me laugh. I look forward to spending time with you and Bluebelle. Hell, sweetness, I had to bribe you into going out with me.”

“You don’t have to do that anymore,” I say softly.

“I know.” Then he looks away. “I want you to promise me something.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my stomach back where it should be.

“If you hear anything about me, about what I want to do with my career, you come to me. I want you to get the unvarnished truth, not the media hype or spin.” His expression is deadly serious when he turns back to me. “I’m not your ex. I promise to talk to you first when I decide to leave the Renegades. If it ever comes to that.”

When he decides to leave? Does this mean he’s considering it? I’m not sure if I want the unvarnished truth about it. Look at what Dean decided for me, and we were engaged. Ryan and I are barely dating, so why does he think I’ll go anywhere with him?

Oh good grief.

My entire thought process is ridiculous. I’m placing more importance on myself than is necessary. Instead, I’ll focus solely on our time together, not expecting more.

Not expecting forever.

“If I read or hear something from anyone who isn’t you, then I’ll ask,” I assure him.

“Thank you.” He smiles “Ready to go play with Gunner and Bluebelle?”

“Of course I am.” I bolt from my seat, halfway to our dogs before I call over my shoulder, “Last one there never wins the Super Bowl Trophy.”

He flies past me before I can blink, stopping beside the two canines that are staring at us like we’ve lost our minds. Maybe I have.

“Already won three of those, firecracker.”

I try to catch my breath while smirking. “Except last year.”

Ryan grunts. “How many have you won, Ms. Designer?”

“Three less than you.”

He throws his head back, laughing at my answer. After crossing the small distance between us, he puts his hands on my hips. “Another reason I like dating you,” he says, dipping his head to capture my lips in a hot kiss that leaves me more breathless than ever. “You give as good as you get.”

Bluebelle and Gunner circle us, jumping and begging for attention. I can’t help but grin. The day is turning out to be completely perfect.