The Only One: A One Love Novella

by Lauren Blakely

  And now, as I stand under the warm afternoon sun in Central Park, I’m uncomfortably aroused in the presence of all these dogs, volunteers, shelter donors, and men and women who’ve just finished running the 5K.

  Including Penny, who’s here with Shortcake. Penny chats with a blond guy in glasses, who has a huge mastiff by his side. When she spots me, her eyes light up and she waves. I make my way to her to say hello, and I extend a hand to the guy.

  “Mitch, this is Gabriel Mathias,” she says. “He owns Gabriel’s on Christopher and has been gracious enough to cater the event. You have to try one of the mini sandwiches. You’ll love it.”

  Mitch rubs his belly. “Can’t wait.”

  Penny turns to me. “And Gabriel, this is Mitch and his dog, Charlie. Mitch is one of my dog park friends.”

  We chat about the weather and the city for a minute, until Mitch and the big beast head to the food.

  Penny leans in closer and whispers, “We went out twice.”

  I straighten as an unexpected dose of jealousy rushes through me. “You did?”

  She smiles softly. “Yes, but it was nothing. He’s very sweet, but we had no spark.” She stands on tiptoe and brushes her lips across my neck. “Not like with you. It’s all spark.”

  A low rumble works its way up my chest, but the jealousy isn’t replaced by the lust. Not yet. “Two dates, you say? You must have liked him enough to go on two dates.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Settle down. Like I said, we didn’t connect.” She places her palm on my chest. “I just wanted to tell you. To be open. Okay?”

  Her eyes pin me with a searing, honest look that tells me this is part of how we navigate the new terrain. “Yes, of course,” I say, and then I cup the back of her head, threading my hand in her hair, and I kiss her possessively.

  Perhaps more possessively than usual.

  I might even dip her, bring her chest to mine, and rope an arm around her back as my lips claim hers. Quite possibly I consider biting her. I find the will to resist somehow.

  When we break the kiss, she blinks then brushes her hand down her shirt. “Are you marking me?”

  With narrowed eyes, I nod. “Perhaps I am.”

  She laughs, curls her dog’s leash tighter around her hand, then says, “Duly noted. And now it’s time for me to chat with donors.”

  “Go,” I say, encouragingly. I return to the food tents, chat with the servers and the cooks, and jump in from time to time to help serve. I say hello to the attendees, make conversation, and do everything possible to ensure the event is a huge success.

  By all accounts it is, judging from the sheer number of people, and dogs, and happy faces. Penny is in the midst of it with her little butterscotch dog, who is quite the ambassador for the shelter. They both mingle with the attendees and a burst of pride suffuses me.

  This is her element. Her love. Her passion. I’m lucky enough to watch her in action and witness the impact she has on other dog lovers. I couldn’t be happier to have my restaurant connected with her event, and as the festivities start to wind down, I make my way out of the tent and across the lawn, chatting with some of my business associates on the way.

  I stop when I see a tall and broad man make his way to Penny. He’s out of place, wearing slacks, and a button-down when nearly everyone is casual. His hair is cropped short, military-style almost. And I hate instantly that women flock to him. His lopsided grin and the way a handful of ladies check him out tell me he isn’t hurting in that department.

  When he makes a beeline for Penny, I tilt my head, studying them.

  I can’t make out their conversation from this many feet away. I remind myself it’s not my place to interfere, and I keep moving through the crowds, spotting a familiar burnished dog and the redhead with her.

  Ah, Nicole.

  She leans close to Delaney, and they have that protective shoulder-to-shoulder stance women take when they look out for their own. Delaney’s fists are clenched, and as I walk behind them, their words are like a jolt of electricity.

  “I’m so glad she didn’t marry that ass,” Delaney hisses to Nicole.

  “So glad she didn’t marry Captain Asshole,” Nicole seconds.

  Let me revise that.

  More like an electric shock.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Penny

  With his fancy duds, Gavin is out of place. But the man always loved looking the part of the player. Of the smooth, suave New York man-about-town.

  Or the sky, really.

  When we were together, he played up the whole sexy pilot angle every chance he had. And it worked on me for a while.

  Now, he does nothing for me. But he’s one of our regular donors, and despite his inability to keep his dick in his pants, he’s done a lot to help the dogs, and all of our biggest supporters were invited to attend today.

  Funny how you might want to despise someone but can’t, since he isn’t all bad. Gavin was a regular thousand-dollar-a-month donor before we dated, and he has continued to give freely after we split. His job makes it impossible for him to have pets, so he has chosen to give to my shelter instead.

  “How’s everything going in the friendly skies?” I ask, trying to keep it light as I shield my eyes.

  “Totally great,” he says in a smooth, confident tone as he takes off his aviator shades and hooks them on the neck of his button-down. “I picked up a new international route to Paris, and one to Vienna. I’ve been trying to take advantage of all the great culture in those cities.”

  I bet he has. “You can’t beat Europe for culture. What’s been your favorite thing so far?” I ask, keeping up the small talk.

  “I’d have to say Paris,” he says, and as he talks my mind drifts to Gabriel, and to how much I want to explore the world with him. He has such an adventuresome spirit, and it pairs perfectly with my own.

  “But I have to say, being there reminded me of one thing.”

  “What’s that?” I ask nicely, trying to stay engaged.

  Gavin steps closer, inches away from me. At my feet, Shortcake lets out a low growl. We’re away from the crowd, standing near an oak tree on a grassy knoll.

  “It’s okay, girl,” I say to my dog, then look up at Gavin again. He’s still as handsome as ever with his green eyes, square jaw, and broad shoulders. But he’s only empirically attractive. He might have a heart for animals, but he hasn’t yet learned how to treat women.

  “What’s on my mind is why you didn’t answer my email. That’s why I came here today.”

  Oh no. I dig my heels into the ground and square my shoulders. I don’t want to get into something with him. “Gavin, I didn’t answer your email because it’s over with us.”

  He nods like he understands, but then clasps his hands together in a plea. “But what about a second chance? Do you believe in second chances?”

  I scrunch my forehead as if he’s crazy. I believe in them so much he’d be shocked. But not between us, and I’m surprised he has the audacity to show up with that line. “In this case, no. I don’t believe in second chances. Not after the way we ended,” I say, keeping my tone even. Truthfully, if we weren’t here in public, I’d have some choice words for him. I’d let him know precisely where he could stick his wandering one-eyed monster. But he’s not worth putting the event at risk. “Gavin, I appreciate all you do for the shelter, but I hope you can understand that it’s over with us.”

  He reaches for my arm. I step back. He moves closer. “Penny,” he pleads. “I know you always wanted to get married. Let’s just put the past behind us and tie the knot. You and me and Shortcake,” he says, with a little quirk of his lips like he thinks using my dog’s name will get me to say yes.

  Shortcake lifts an ear when she hears her name.

  I open my mouth to speak.

  But someone else gets a word in first.

  “She said no.”

  I nearly stumble with relief to find Gabriel by my side.

  Gavin’s eyes widen, then narr
ow. “I believe this is between Penny and me.”

  Gabriel holds up one finger and says in a cool, sophisticated tone, “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. It’s not between the two of you, since she’s with me now.” He ropes an arm around my shoulders and grips me hard.

  Gavin’s green eyes flick from me to Gabriel then back.

  “Besides,” Gabriel continues, “I believe she told you no, not after the way it ended. Perhaps you’d like to take that as your cue to run along.”

  And in case there was any doubt, Gabriel cups my cheek with his other hand and delivers a crushing kiss to my mouth. He’s definitely marking me now, and I can feel it in the way his teeth graze over my lips. This kiss feels like a punishment as much as a claiming.

  After five seconds, he pulls away and flashes a practiced smile at my ex. “But thank you for being a supporter of Little Friends and the dogs. Be sure to have a sandwich on the way out.”

  Gavin rubs his knuckle against his ear, like he can’t quite believe that another man has bested him. He raises his hand in a faint wave and wanders off, a scolded child searching aimlessly for a new toy.

  Gabriel turns to me, cocks his head, and speaks ever-so-softly, but in the crispest voice. “Now, love. Is there anyone else I should expect to run into today at this event?”

  And whatever anger radiates off him—I seize it and hold it for myself. “What the hell? Why would you say that?” I whisper-yell at him.

  He lifts his chin. “Let’s see. I’ve already bumped into someone you dated, and now, apparently, that asshole you were nearly married to.” He strokes his chin. “Funny, you never mentioned him.”

  The anger doubles down. It triples. How dare he? “You didn’t want to hear! And I was never almost married to Gavin. And I should not have to apologize for having gone on two dates with Mitch, who is, incidentally, a very nice guy,” I say through thin lips, as I point in the general direction of the crowd.

  “But what about Captain Asshole? The one trying to win you back?”

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot Lacey walking toward with me with another one of our biggest donors.

  I breathe in through my nose, willing my heart to settle and my frustration to take a hike. I lower my voice more and say to Gabriel, “I can’t talk about this now. I need to chat with one of our donors.” He arches an eyebrow at that last word, as if he’s caught me being a…a playgirl? “And you’re being entirely unfair.”

  He drops a gentle kiss to my cheek, but his words aren’t sweet. “What’s entirely unfair is that you were so focused on my past, and it bothered you immensely, and that was all because of what you heard the press say about me. Now in the span of a few hours, I’ve come face-to-face with two of your exes.” He puts his hand on his chest. “Call me crazy, but that’s not exactly my favorite thing to experience. And that’s why, perhaps, it’s best that I not be in this vicinity right now.” He takes a breath. “I just need to be by myself for a bit.”

  He leaves, and that frustration inside me explodes into hurt and sadness as I watch him walk away, because it brings back all the bitter memories of the evening at the fountain.

  But there’s no time to talk. I have to slip on a happy face. Shortcake wags her tail, like she knows only a dog’s love will do right now. I bend down, scratch her chin, then plaster on a smile and focus on business while my heart aches cruelly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gabriel

  Fifth Avenue is a zoo.

  I lower my sunglasses over my eyes and push through the throngs of Saturday-afternoon New Yorkers—hipsters in cuffed jeans and horn-rimmed glasses, mothers in capri pants pushing sporty strollers next to fathers in striped shirts, young couples with their hands in each other’s back pockets, wearing flirty smiles that hint of afternoon delights to come.

  I’m not in the fucking mood for crowds, or people, or being civilized, and if I’d stayed at that event a second longer, I’d have said something I’d really regret. With my fists clenched and red clouds billowing from my ears, I’d walked away from the picnic and across the park to Fifth Avenue, and now I’m heading south, right next to a goddamn bus that somehow keeps the same pace as I do.

  Acrid fumes blow from the giant vehicle’s exhaust. I drag a hand roughly through my hair. Frustration digs deep inside me, tunneling through my body, setting up camp in my bones.

  Because…Penny.

  Fucking Penny.

  And Mitch and Gavin.

  As the bus rumbles to a stop, I can’t deal with this sardine-feel of New York.

  I cross the avenue, heading east along a side street in the sixties, doing my best to get away from the heart of the city. Away from the woman in the park who brings out this side of me that I don’t like.

  Grabbing my phone, I click on the playlist I made last week thanks to Tina’s recommendations. But Pizza for Breakfast reminds me of Penny, so I find a classical piece—a cello number Tina used to play, she told me. Popping in my earbuds, I crank the music up and turn off all the other apps on my phone. Not that Penny has called. Not that Penny has texted. Not that she wants to talk to me, either.

  Maybe it’s for the best. I don’t know what I’d say now.

  I’m not sure why I feel…deceived? Enraged? Hurt?

  But I don’t know that those fit entirely.

  Pissed?

  That works. She should have told me she’d almost married someone, shouldn’t she? She should have damn well let me know. I don’t want to run into her ex-boyfriend at the park. Or anywhere.

  Especially considering she was bothered by the things that had been said about me.

  That’s what’s gnawing at me.

  But as the soothing notes of the cello bathe my brain, and New York starts to feel less like a carnival, I know that’s not it, either.

  I wander past a bookstore. A book on modern art sits in the window, a new coffee-table hardback with full-color photos and a Mark Rothko on the cover. It catches my eye, and I stop and stare. The image reminds me of the night we went to the Museum of Modern Art.

  The thoughts start to untangle from the ball of anger inside me. All the fuzzy ideas in my head sharpen.

  It’s not her. It’s me.

  As I recall our conversation in front of the Pollock at MoMa, Tina’s words to me about identity, and my own words to Penny, rise up in front of me.

  It’s not my identity as the playboy chef that I’ll have a hard time giving up, like Tina had suggested. That’s not an issue at all. Sure, I’ve had a past. Yes, I’ve enjoyed the company of women. But giving up an amorous lifestyle for one woman who rocks my world? Ha. That’s the easiest thing to do. I don’t miss the merry-go-round. Penny is all I’ll ever need or want.

  But Tina wasn’t wrong when she mentioned identity. Only, the issue isn’t how I see myself, but how I picture Penny.

  And I said as much at the museum the other night.

  “Besides, my brain has played this fantastic trick on me. It blots out any thought of what you’ve been doing from the moment you left Barcelona until you walked into my restaurant the other day.”

  Penny is the sweet, innocent girl I met in Barcelona, and she’s the sexy, confident woman I know today. She’s the virgin and the lover. She’s the woman she was then, and the woman she is now.

  But she’s also been herself for ten years, too, and I’ve blotted that out.

  I’ve erased those ten years of her life without me.

  I’ve only ever seen her as mine. And I may only want her to be mine, but to see her that way is terribly unfair to the woman she is today—the woman I’ve fallen in love with anew. That’s what set me off. Not whether she told me about some ass she dated—we’ve all gone out with jerks—but that my illusion of her as mine and only ever mine has been shattered.

  And that’s okay.

  To keep moving forward, I have to accept that she’s had a whole life in between Barcelona and two weeks ago.

  Maybe I don’t need details. I certainly don�
�t want to linger on those thoughts, especially since I’m sure she doesn’t have a long trail of men behind her. But at the very least, I can’t let a normal, reasonable dating history get the better of me. And I can’t let it ruin this chance to be with the one I love.

  She’s not pure as the driven snow like she joked. She’s not supposed to be. Neither am I.

  We just need to only have eyes for each other now, and I know we do, and we will.

  I also need to say I am sorry for being a jealous ass. She brings out that side of me, but only because I want her all to myself, all the time.

  As I step away from the bookstore, I look at the time and pick up the pace, my long stride eating up the sidewalk as I return to the park.

  I stop in my tracks, though, when I pass a candy store.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Penny

  I make it through to the end of the event. I talk to donors. I play with dogs. I scratch the chins of Labs, and stroke the backs of dachshunds, and shake the paws of Jack Russell terriers.

  The event is a smash hit, and it looks as if we’re ahead of our fundraising goals. Also, everyone’s been raving about the food and buzzing about wanting to visit Gabriel’s restaurant.

  Me?

  I haven’t touched a thing.

  As I finish my last few conversations and then wrap up with Lacey, I try once more to will away the pang in my chest.

  Drawing a deep breath, I remind myself that I’ve gotten over hurt before. I’ve moved past the particular kind of pain that love inflicts. I can handle this wound.

  But as I say good-bye to my assistant, that twinge resurfaces. It’s a new, fresh cut, different from the one inflicted ten years ago when he didn’t show at the fountain. Because this one comes after the most wonderful reunion I could ever have dreamed up.

  A little whimper sounds from beside my feet. I glance at Shortcake, who has conked out on the grass. Tired from her role as a mascot for the shelter, she lounges on the cool, green blanket of the ground.