I thought about what I would do if the situation were reversed. If I had his opportunities, would I be out there playing the field or would I want a
relationship with one person? Well, that was an easy question to answer. Of course I’d want a meaningful relationship with one man. But men are
different creatures.
I peered at him through the corner of my eye. He was sitting at the wooden dining table drinking his coffee while trying to do the crossword
puzzle in the newspaper. The famous celebrity who just won three awards for his acting skills was just sitting there in a wrinkled T-shirt and
sweatpants. His bare feet were scrunched up on his toes, bouncing his heels up and down as he chewed on the tip of the pen.
He had no idea of the damage he just caused in my brain. That little text message felt like just another nail in my coffin. He wasn’t interested in
that one, but what would happen if he got another offer he simply couldn’t refuse?
Ryan was beyond jealous of Kyle, hence why Kyle was dismissed from being my bodyguard so quickly. How easy it was for Ryan to eliminate
the true competition with a simple phone call. Despite how attractive and sweet Kyle was, I used my brain and heart to rationalize my feelings.
Men however don’t always think with the brain that sits between their ears. All too often it’s the little brain in their pants that they listen to. Would
Ryan’s love for me stop him dead in his tracks before he listened to the devil that lived in his pants?
“Shoot,” Ellen grumbled.
I quickly turned my head in her direction. Her butt was sticking up in the air while she rummaged through the refrigerator.
“I don’t have enough cream cheese,” she groaned.
I tried to shake off my other thoughts.
“What are you going to do with the turkey? I think it’s just about completely thawed.” I poked it with my finger. She had it setting in the other sink.
“There’s no room in the fridge,” she announced. “I don’t know.”
“You should soak it overnight in brine and ice. That will make it nice and juicy tomorrow.”
She looked at me, perplexed. “Brine?”
Ryan escorted me to his dad’s office so I could print off a recipe from the web. I really think he wanted to make sure I didn’t Internet surf while I
had the chance.
“Here’s the recipe.” I handed it to Ellen.
“I have to run to the store. I don’t have some of these things.” She sounded stressed. “Janelle is bringing Sarah over soon. You two will have to
watch her for me.”
About twenty minutes later, Janelle came through the door with Sarah in one arm and a diaper bag containing an arsenal of baby supplies in the
other. She was running late for her appointment.
Ryan was on the floor playing with Sarah when Janelle darted out the door. He was helping Sarah stack up little wooden alphabet blocks. She
was concentrating so hard; her angelic face showed her determination.
I couldn’t help myself; the sight of him playing with the baby overwhelmed me. I shut the mixer off and joined them on the floor. Ryan patted me
on the thigh a few times before clamping his hand down on my leg.
“What do you say? Think you want one or two of these someday?” he mused, twisting his finger into Sarah’s ringlets.
“I think you already know my answer.” I smiled.
Ryan grinned widely. “Two would be cool.”
“I’m surprised though,” I continued. “Someone in your position… I would have thought that having kids would be the last thing on your list.”
“Why would you say that?”
I was surprised that he questioned me. “I don’t know… you’re young. You’re a famous celebrity. You travel the world.”
He rolled his eyes at me.
“Sometimes I’m surprised that you even want a girlfriend. Why have one when you could have so many.”
Ryan rolled onto his back and groaned. “Not this conversation again. I thought we were beyond this?”
I took a deep breath and sighed. “Ryan, you’re only twenty seven. And you know damn well you can get any girl you want whenever you want.
Hell, they even text their offers to you! There are women all around the globe who would pay to have sex with you. Before you talk to me about
having children, are you sure you’re done sowing your wild oats?”
He covered his eyes with his hand. “I can’t believe you’re asking me this,” he muttered to himself.
“You’re a guy! That’s what guys do. Fast cars, fast women. I don’t want you to wake up next to me when I’m all pregnant and have regrets.” I
teasingly squeezed the inside of his leg.
He started laughing. “How much money do you think I could make from all these women who want to have sex with me?”
“Billions!” I quickly replied.
“Really? Help me drag a mattress out into the front yard. You can sell lemonade and I’ll just fuck people all day!” he cackled.
The baby crawled over to Ryan and whacked him in the head with a wooden block.
“Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re right, Sarah. That was a bad idea. Uncle Ryan’s junk will fall off if I did that all day.”
She crawled onto his chest and slapped him a few times in the face.
“Hey! Why are you beating me up? Huh? Do I have a potty mouth? Go beat up Aunt Taryn – she’s the one who’s being silly.” He picked her up
in his hands and pressed her up into the air.
Ryan sat Sarah on the floor and rolled to his side.
“Sarah?” Ryan whispered a whole bunch of nonsense in her ear. “Tell her!”
Ryan used his finger to make Sarah’s bottom lip move. His voice changed to a high pitch. “Uncle Ryan says he’s done sowing so you can just
chill.” Ryan whispered in her ear again. “Uncle Ryan says you have to be married first before you have babies. And I stink so you should change me.”
“Give her to me,” I requested, reaching out for her.
I lay Sarah on the floor between my legs and grabbed the diaper bag. Ryan turned on the television, stopping on a channel just in time to hear
some announcer say his name.
“Today on CTV…”
“We got Ryan Christensen in the airport in Providence with his new girlfriend.”
Large graphics streamed across the screen and the announcer’s voice came back. Different embarrassing pictures of Ryan were flashed
between the verbal comments. “Keep your panties on Seaside fans! Just when you thought you saw it all – Ryan Christensen eats – Ryan
Christensen picks his nose – Ryan Christensen sits in a car – we bring you…”
“We caught him feeling himself up.”
Video of Ryan patting his front and back jeans pockets when we were in the airport in Providence was shown on the screen.
“What’s up with this guy?” the obvious show host asked.
“I don’t know but our camera guy caught him feeling himself up before he went through the metal detectors,” some young guy answered.
“Feeling himself up?” the host questioned.
“Yeah, he was searching his pockets and stuff. I mean what idiot goes to the airport with change in their pockets!”
The video of Ryan patting his pockets now included me in the shot.
“Do we know who the girl is? Is she an actress?” The host circled my picture on his video screen.
“Her name is Taryn Mitchell. She owns a bar or something in Rhode Island.”
They showed old, random photos of Ryan with different drinks in his hand, pretty much accusing him of having a drinking problem.
“Wow, that’s impressive! Are all the girls in Hollywood dead?” the host sneered.
Everyone on the television screen laughed.
“I’m sure his fans hate her!” one woman commented.
A clip from an old black and white movie was shown. All the townspeople had torches and pitchforks.
Another girl chimed in. “She’s a lot prettier than Suzanne Strass, I think.”
“Yeah, and she can help him turn into another celebrity alcoholic!” some other man bantered.