Page 62 of The Press Secretary's Passion
“Do you miss it?”
“I have a little Cessna I can take you up in sometime if you’d like,” he offers, and I’m not going to lie, the idea of going up in the sky in a tiny little tin can with propellers kind of scares the crap out of me. That must show on my face, because laughter bursts from him. “I take it that’s a no.”
“It’s not a no, per se,” I answer, and he laughs again, but this time it’s a handsome chuckle. “It’s more of a maybe.”
“The kids love it,” he says. “One day, I’ll take you to Texas, and you can see the pipeline path we used to fly.”
“I’d like that,” I say quietly.
“You’ll like Mom and Dad,” he says. “Dad’s a bit of a loveable grouch, but then again, most old Marines are, and Mom’s a doll.”
“I’m sure I will.” My heart flutters at the thought.
“You ready to meet the kids tonight?” he asks me.
“I’m terrified,” I answer honestly. “Last time they saw me was not good.”
“It was not good, because you were worried about their old man,” he says. “They’re old enough to understand you care about me, and I care about you a great deal. They like that for me, and they’re glad I have it. Their mom has had it with Alan for years, and they’ve wanted it for me too.”
“I love that.”
“Lacy will like you, because you dress great,” he says. “Cabe will like you, because you’re hot.”
“Ryan!” I gasp and toss my napkin at him, making him laugh again. “Shame on you!”
“What?” He laughs. “He’s a seventeen-year-old boy. He’s going to notice.”
“He is not.”
“He will, and I’ll tell you how I know.”
“Well, how do you know?” I snark.
“Because I noticed right away too.”
“You are not a seventeen-year-old boy,” I remind him.
“No, I’m not,” he agrees with a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m a forty-seven-year-old man, and we all have the same parts.”
“You are terrible.” I laugh.
“I am,” he says. “But I’m also yours.”
“That, you are.” It falls from my lips so easily I decide not to question it.
And then the waitress brings our bill. Ryan doesn’t even let me look at it. He pays and then escorts me out of the building and back to the offices, where we get back to our day.
And that afternoon, the picture of serious Captain Ryan Black with his head thrown back and laughing at something I said with a happy but saucy smile on my face goes viral.
• • •
I have never been more terrified of a date before.
I’ve never dated a man with children—grown or otherwise—before. Although, to be fair, I really haven’t dated many men, so there really wasn’t very much opportunity for me to date anyone with children.
Ryan’s kids aren’t really kids at fifteen and seventeen. But they’re not quite adults yet either. It’s an interesting situation we find ourselves in.
After lunch, Ryan had driven us back to the White House offices, where he went back to whatever it is he does for the president, which I hear is everything from getting coffee to handling his schedule and advising him on military situations. It’s an all-encompassing job.
