Free Love on a Spring Morning by Zoe York

uniform. Seeing him all jacked up like that was not good for her unrequited desire for the man.
    “I am,” he murmured, leaning in a bit. “But I’ve always got time to talk to you.”
    She told her fluttering stomach to stop being such a teenage girl. “Good, you’ve saved me from having to look at donuts I can’t eat. My assistant is addicted to the ones covered in white powder.”
    He held up his own brown paper bag, his eyes dancing like he knew he was being bad. “He’s crazy. You gotta go for the fritters. I could share.”
    “So tempting,” she breathed, before reluctantly shaking her head.
    “I know,” he said, his eyes dropping to her mouth, and maybe it was because they were in public, and nothing could happen, or maybe it was because forty-eight hours had eroded her self-control, but she decided to allow herself a little flirt.
    “I like the uniform, by the way. You look good in it,” she’d said as she looked him over again. He looked more than good—taller, broader, stronger in green camouflage. “I mean, you always look good, but you look especially good in that.”
    His grin flashed bright in his face, but before they could say anything else, Emmett came out and Ryan excused himself before she could make introductions—which was for the best.
    Emmett gave her a look, but he didn’t ask and she didn’t offer any explanation for the conversation.
    She stared out the window as they headed to a local gallery, wondering where in town Ryan’s armouries was located. Where did he go in these few hours of work, when he got to be someone other than Dad?
    Even though he never complained about being a non-stop parent, it still seemed to take its toll.  
    She knew a fair bit about his life now, although he never shared anything specific. They mostly talked about hypothetical situations and bucket lists, but every so often he’d reference people in his life, and she’d stitch that piece into the secret patchwork of facts. She thought about that pieced together picture of Ryan Howard a lot when they weren’t together.
    She also thought about how careful she’d been not to give him quite the same access. Soon, she thought. She’d tell him soon.

    — —

    The next night, she almost did, but he’d had a bad day, and she was heading out of town for the weekend, going to Toronto for a press junket… she told herself she didn’t want to dump her career information on him and then run away, but deep down she knew she was just being cowardly.  
    So instead of coming clean, she let him tease her about her big city ways and her attachment to hot flower water. She poked him to think about where he might like to take the kids when they were older, and how awesome it would be when they all liked steak. It was a nice visit, but his black mood persisted.
    “You sure I can’t offer you some of my tea?” she asked as she yawned, holding out her cup.
    He growled good-naturedly under his breath.
    She yanked the thermos back. “Okay, it’s not your thing. I get it.”
    He winced. “Sorry. I’m poor company tonight.”
    “Today’s shoot didn’t go well, either. Maybe it’s a full moon or something, everyone’s off kilter.”
    “I’d believe it,” he muttered, but above them the moon was just a sliver. “Of course, my kids go crazy a few times a month, so it’s likely sugar hangover more than anything.”
    ”Mmm, sugar.”
    “Now you’re wishing I’d shared that donut with you, eh?”
      She laughed and leaned against him, and he put his arm around her.
    And when she stood, reluctantly, needing to get to bed because she had an extra early makeup call in the morning, he pulled her in close for a hug.
    That’s all it was, just a hug, but an awareness pulsed through her entire body that she wanted more.
    “I’m going to Toronto for a few days,” she whispered into his neck, trying not to get lost in the scent of him and the warmth of his skin.  
    “I’ll be here when you get back.” He