I clasp Leo’s hand more tightly. “I love that. This would be a good riddle for a hunt. You can say something along the lines of ‘What’s familiar, but also new every time you open it? You’ll find me looking down, among so many others, each one hinting at a different story.’ And the answer would be Library Way.”
“Have I told you how sexy and smart you are?”
“Why, yes, shower me with compliments. They’ll get you everywhere.”
He squeezes my ass and growls in my ear. “Exactly where I want to be.”
Inside the park, we spot Ginny and Noah holding hands. As we walk past them, they’re debating whether cones are better than cups.
“See, when you get ice cream in a cone, there’s absolutely no waste. You don’t have to throw a thing out,” he says.
“Right, but when you get it in a cup, it’s pure. It’s just ice cream. You don’t have a cone to sully the taste.”
“How on earth does a cone sully the taste? It makes it even better.”
“Maybe I want my ice cream all to itself, just like I want my man.”
He sidles up against her. “You can definitely have me all to yourself. Anytime. Anywhere.”
I look at them, then at Leo, whispering, “True love born from true arguers. That’s definitely the two of them.”
I survey the scene, cataloging the others from the hunt—minus RaeLynn, since I presume she’s descended to her secret lair to plot more nefarious misdeeds. My heart scampers away from me when I see three adorable redhead babies in a triple-wide stroller and one very happy dad pushing them toward us. George’s skin is a little more golden than it was last time, and his eyes sparkle. He traveled to the Bahamas and donated the ten thousand dollars in prize money to an organization that provides school supplies for low-income children. He’s officially all kinds of awesome.
I wave to him and rush over, bending to dote on the babies. “They’re so cute. I’m overloading on the adorable. How do you even stand it every day?”
“It is their cuteness indeed that gets me through. Also, a vacation helped.” He holds out his arms. “How do I look? Like the most relaxed man in the universe? Tanned, rested, and . . . well, ready for another vacation.”
“You look like the guy who deserved a vacation and made one hell of a good use of it.”
“Determination was the name of the game. That was all. I saw the prize, and I said, ‘I absolutely must have it, no matter what.’”
“I’m glad you won. Every now and then, someone who deserves a prize wins a prize.”
A few minutes later, Kingsley clears her throat to say it’s time to present the trophy to the victor, but one of George’s little girls cries before Kingsley can hand over the statue. Another baby joins the chorus. I scoop up crying baby number one, and before I know it, Leo is by my side helping with the other.
The sight of him holding a little one in his arms is almost too much for me to bear. My ovaries huddle and plan a strategy to tackle Leo and demand attention RIGHT NOW. “Forget everything I said earlier. This is the sexiest you’ve ever been.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, and I want one of these for my own.”
“You’re suggesting we take one of George’s babies?”
The father of three jumps into the conversation as he tends to the third baby. “Anytime you two want to babysit, you know where to find me. In fact, how about five o’clock today? I’ll pay you double.”
I lean in to stage-whisper. “Confession: you don’t have to pay me a dime.”
“You mean you’ll pay me? Even better.”
“Name the date and time, and I’m there.”
“I knew I liked you. If you ever need a chocolate fountain, I’m your man.”
Leo smiles as he interjects, “So you want one of those?”
“A chocolate fountain? Yes. I do. I told you I like them.”
“A baby, Lulu.”
“Um, yeah. How could you tell?” The funny thing is, I’m not worried that my baby fever is going to scare him off. Leo’s not easily spooked. He’s also ridiculously good with babies.
He nuzzles the redhead in his arms and whispers something in a sweet baby language, then he looks over at me. “Then I better get you something first.”
A few days later, Leo tells me a book he requested on antique furniture styles has arrived, and asks if I want to join him to fetch it.
I do, so we head to the New York Public Library and wander through the stacks, sniffing old books and playing a game to see who can find the most absurd history book. He wins when he locates a tome on poison in the court of James I.
We leave on a mission for lunch, scamper down the steps, and wander along Library Way, reading the quotes from the plaques. He gestures to the Willa Cather one, a few feet away.
“Hey, Lulu. What’s made of stone, contains a quote from an American author, and says something profound about stories?”
Seriously? “Are you soft-balling me?”
His brown eyes twinkle with mischief. “Maybe I am.”
I swivel around and point to the ground. “It’s that plaque. That’s the answer to your supremely easy riddle.”
