The Blind Date

A school bus pulls up outside, and India turns. “There he is, ready to get on the road.”

“The bus?” Wayne asks, looking out the window like a pack of feral school children are going to rush the place demanding chocolate chip pancakes and cream sodas while overwhelming any sense of order there might be.

As if feral kids would be on a school bus anyway.

India nods. “Yeah, we converted the bus to be our home on the road. It’s not fancy, but it’s ours.” To me, she says, “I’ll work on editing while we’re traveling to the next stop, so I’ll send you everything tonight. Do a check-through for approval, and then we can do a coordinated post to release them to the public in a couple of days.”

India waits for me to nod in answer, and I add, “That sounds amazing. Thank you so much, India.”

She gathers all her gear, and too soon, India and her school bus-driving husband are gone.

“Wow,” I breathe in awe. “India Inkspot Photography.”

Wayne pulls up his still-glassless glasses to raise a brow, adding, “Uh, wow . . . Riley Sunshine.”

I laugh and give him a high-five. “Thanks, Wayne. Do you think I could get something to go?”

“Chocolate cake shake?” he suggests. Maybe he remembers that Noah and I didn’t get one when we were here or maybe it’s his standard suggestion, but he’s absolutely right. That’s what I want. I don’t care if it’s not yet eight in the morning. Cake has eggs and milk in it. Those are breakfast foods, right?

I nod, and he snaps his fingers. “Coming right up.”

I sit down at a table, and in minutes, he’s back with a gorgeous, and humongous, shake. I’m no India-caliber photographer, but I’ve got a few tricks of my own, so before Mike opens for the early crowd starting to gather in the parking lot, I stand up in my chair and take a picture of the shake, making sure to get the globs of whipped cream, cute sprinkles, and the ambiance of the diner surrounding the table.

I do a quick edit on the photo and then add a teaser to it . . .

Don’t pinch me . . . I don’t want to wake up from this dream. Today, I had an opportunity I would’ve never imagined, but it happened. To me. Which is proof your dreams can happen for you too. Be open, be adventurous, be resolutely yourself, and amazing things will come your way.

I can’t wait to share with you. Photos coming soon. #turningdreamsintoreality

I post it to my page with a smile on my face that I don’t think will shrink ever again. Today was amazing.

I take a celebratory sip of the shake and blink. Holy Chocolate! This is amazing too.

What a day, what a life, I think. I’m a lucky woman.

* * *

“Hey, Sunshine,” Noah says as I open the door. He’s holding a sunflower, spinning the single thick stalk gently in his hands. “You didn’t seem like the rose type, but this reminded me of you.” His smile is pure filth even as he says sweet things. I love it—his dirty mouth and the pretty flower.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” I tell him, taking the bloom from him. It’s bright yellow and warm brown and reminds me of summer days in the sun.

He follows me into the kitchen where I pull out a tall glass. “I don’t have a vase that’ll fit this, but I think this will work.” I add water and the flower as he watches me. I smile softly at the focused attention. “What?”

“I missed you today,” he answers bluntly. “I was busy at work—running from meeting to meeting, poring over BlindDate stats, and dissecting what it all means with River. But all I wanted to do was call you to see how the photo shoot went this morning.”

“I wanted to call you so much, but I didn’t want to interrupt because I knew you had the meeting with the marketing people this morning.”

We flash matching smiles, both of us wanting to talk but respecting the other’s work. “Just call me next time,” Noah growls, pulling me in for a proper hello kiss. He’s warm and firm against my body, his lips soft and demanding against mine, and I melt into him.

“Hi,” I murmur, blissed out from his kiss. I blink and promise, “Next time, I’ll just call.”

He nods approvingly. “So, how did it go?”

I twirl away from him, spinning through the living room, and Raffy barks, running around with me. I’m celebrating, and he thinks I’ve lost my mind, but Noah laughs. “I take it that’s good?”

“It was amazing!” I sigh happily. “India is going to send me the pictures tonight and they’ll go live in a couple of days.”

“I can’t wait to see them. You looked gorgeous in that skirt and those shoes. Ugh, those heels and little socks? You might have to pull those out later.” He lifts a dark brow lewdly. “Only those . . . and nothing else.”