Sitting on a stool with her back leaning against the bar, her elbows on the bar top, she smiles over at him, alluring, easygoing, and sexy as hell, her foot swinging to the beat of the music. Definitely in her element. He grins back, hyperaware of how his body responds to her. His step becomes lighter, quicker. His heart hammers in his chest, urging him to be near her. He needs to be near her. He keeps his gaze hooked with hers as he makes his way over.

They’d parked her white New Beetle in long-term parking at the airport, and surprisingly made it back to the terminal with time to spare. He was even able to get her on his flight, though some fortunate bastard got his first-class seat. He gave it up so that he could sit in coach beside Joy, who got the last available seat on the plane.

Several days after they’d arrived in London, after they’d somewhat come down from the high of the knowledge that they’re exclusive to each other—because . . . hello! Sex is mind-blowing. But when the woman you’re with isn’t engaged to some other guy, that’s a whole other level of astounding—Joy asked the concierge at their hotel to ship two padded envelopes on her behalf. One contained Joy’s so-wrong-for-her engagement ring and a handwritten letter to Mark. She’d cried while writing the note, but she didn’t regret her decision. Terminating their engagement was the right thing to do.

On one hand, Dylan felt sorry for the guy. Dude got dumped via a phone call. Joy had called Mark before they boarded the plane. But on the other hand, Dylan felt like he was doing him a favor. The guy doesn’t see it yet, and probably won’t for a while, but one day he’ll realize that he and Joy weren’t right for each other. They want different things from life.

Joy sent the second envelope, which had her car keys and the parking lot ticket, to Taryn. At first, Taryn was reluctant to fly to New York and drive the car back to LA. She had a job. She didn’t have enough vacation time built up. But Dylan got on the phone and laid down an offer her BFF would have been insane to refuse. He’d fly her to JFK first-class and put her up in five-star hotels the entire way west. He’d even pay her expenses in entirety. Taryn snapped the expense-free vacation up in a heartbeat. Who knows? She might meet her own singer-songwriter on the way home.