Four Last First Dates Page 3
“Well, you had him running scared, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, right back to his secret lab.” I let out a laugh.
There was a loud screeching sound as the convener switched on his microphone. “Sorry about that, everyone. Feedback. Right, we have all the cards back and have made some matches!”
The crowd cheered, and I swallowed the nervous frog in my throat.
Had Adam chosen me?
Did I even want him to?
I glanced at Ryan. Of all the men in the room, he was easily the most interesting. And definitely hottest.
And the only one not here for the speed dating.
Just my luck.
“I’m happy to say we’ve had a record number of matches tonight. You guys are awesome!”
More cheering.
“Come on up and see me or Veronica, my lovely assistant over here.” He gestured at a small, plump woman in her early twenties, who gave an embarrassed wave. “We will tell you who your love match is. You get to decide whether you want to give that person your contact details. And then, boys and girls, the rest is up to you. Only, if there are any weddings from tonight’s matches, we do need to invite us.”
There was a ripple of laughter around the pub.
“Do you think mad scientist guy chose you?” Ryan said into my ear. I tried to ignore the way his warm breath tingled my neck.
“He ran off, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Pity. I could totally see you with him.”
I shot him a quizzical look. “And you only get matched when both people choose each other, and I can assure you I did not chose him.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t want to date that guy?” Ryan was teasing, his eyes wide. “As long as I live, I will never understand women.”
I slapped him playfully on the arm.
“Are you going to see if Adam chose you, too?” Marissa asked, materializing at my side then shooting Ryan a look.
“Who’s Adam?” Ryan asked, his brows raised.
“Well, he could be Bailey’s Last First Date,” Marissa replied.
“You’re in on that dating pact, too?” The expression on Ryan’s face made it clear he didn’t approve.
Of course, I knew the pact to marry the next guy I dated was a little juvenile, but I’d agreed to it. On a windswept beach around a bonfire, no less. Sure, there may have been a glass or two of wine involved, and maybe we did get swept up in the moment. But like the others, I wanted to find him, I wanted to find someone to share my life with.
I needed to own this.
“Yes, actually, Ryan. I am in on that dating pact.” My eyes challenged him to respond.
He studied my face, his own eyes narrowed. I wanted to squirm. “Well, good luck then.” He broke eye contact and took a swig of his beer.
“She doesn’t need luck. It’s fate, big brother. Just like it was for all of us,” Marissa sniffed. She took me by the hand and lead me through the crowd to the convener’s table.
I glanced back at Ryan. He had an impassive look on his face as he watched for a second before looking away once more, taking a fresh swig of his beer.
Marissa and I stood in line, waiting to find out if I would be chosen by the only guy I had on my list—or if I’d be humiliated.
“Don’t go getting any ideas about my brother, okay?” Marissa said.
I swallowed, discomfited she had noticed Ryan and I flirting. Because that’s definitely what it was—flirting. We did it whenever we saw one another. It never led anywhere, but it was fun all the same.
“He’s still getting over Amelia, his ex. You know, she hurt him real bad.”
I nodded. Amelia had dumped Ryan on his sorry butt and then moved onto the next guy fast enough to give her whiplash. When I first met Ryan, he was bitter and angry—despite being very cute.
“Of course. I know about it. He’s not here to look for a date, anyway, so it’s a moot point.”
“Good. He’s a great guy, but broken, totally broken.”
Eventually, we reached Veronica, who handed me a card. “I’m sorry. No match for you tonight.”
I knitted my brows together, examining the card closely as though she could have gotten it wrong.
Adam didn’t pick me?
“Do you think you could check again, please? I’m sure this must have been some kind of mistake,” Marissa said to Veronica, tapping her index finger on the table.
“No mistake,” Veronica replied cheerily. “But we’re here every week. Better luck next time.”
I blinked at her upturned, shining face. The idea of coming back here and doing this all again was about as appealing as being slapped in the face by a large, wet fish.
“Err, thanks,” I muttered as I turned to leave. Mortification crept up my legs and into my belly.
Adam didn’t pick me.
“You know what? He was probably intimidated by you, that’s all. You’re good looking, successful, really sweet.” Marissa slung her arm around my shoulders.
“Yeah, because guys hate women like that.” I tried to keep the sour tone from my voice.
Yup, I failed.
“Oh, honey. We’ll work something out, don’t you worry.” Marissa gave me a squeeze.
Paige came up behind us and slung her arms around our shoulders. “How many dates did you get, Bailey?”
Marissa glared at her as I replied, “None.”
“What?” Paige’s voice was ear-piercingly loud, even in the noisy pub. “How can that be? I mean, look at you.”
I smiled weakly at her.
“There must be some kind of mix up. I know what. Why don’t you go over and talk to him? I can see him over there, standing near Ryan.” Paige nodded at the other side of the bar.
I looked over to see Adam talking with a man, nodding along to what he was saying. His back was to Ryan’s, and I noticed they were both about the same height. I couldn’t help but compare the two men. Ryan was easily the more imposing, better looking of the two, right down to his newly acquired Thor beard.
Strictly speaking, beards weren’t really my thing. On Ryan, it looked good. He looked good.
Kissable, even.
Wait, what? I wanted to kiss Ryan?
Ryan, Marissa’s older brother, the guy who had not that long ago had his heart ripped from his chest and trampled on by his ex?
A guy who made bitter chocolate taste sweet?
I shook my head, dislodging the thought. Sure, we’d flirted a bit, and it was fun, but that was as far as it was likely to go with Ryan and the complicated state of his heart.
Adam looked over in my direction and smiled. I immediately looked away, the sting of his rejection hitting me.
“No, no. I don’t think I’ll go talk to Adam,” I said to Paige.
“Are you sure? I mean, tonight is meant to be your Last First Date. Don’t you want to give it a final shot? The man of your dreams could be in this room.”
I bit my lip as my eyes wandered back to the two men. Only, I wasn’t looking at the guy who was meant to be my date.
I was looking at Ryan—his complicated heart and all.
Chapter 4
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, MY humiliation at not being picked by Adam reduced to a low, annoyed grumble, Paige and I busied ourselves with the comings and goings of the Cozy Cottage Café.
I had successfully pushed the unexpected romantic stirrings Ryan elicited in me firmly to the back of my mind. I wasn’t about to go falling for him, despite the fact he was super fun to be around. He was easy-going, flirty, smart. And then there was the small fact he looked like a Norse god.
I let out a sigh. It was never a good idea to date your friend’s brother. Too complicated. Especially if it doesn’t work out.
And anyway, he only broke up with someone a matter of six months ago.
There was no way I was going there.
“I’ve finished that fresh batch of cream cheese frosting for the carrot cake,” I said.
Paige’s
back was turned to me as she pulled a cake out of the oven with her mitts. “Thanks, Bailey.” She placed the steaming cake on a rack on the counter. “I know we bake these cakes all the time, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that delicious aroma.”
Although I’d been running the café for some time now, Paige had joined me as my partner with an equal share in the business after she ditched a marketing career she hated. And I was very glad to have her on board. We made an excellent team, and the café ran like clockwork, both of us passionate about what we did.
We’d made a few changes to the place, such as introducing the wildly successful “Cozy Cottage Jam” music sessions on a Friday night, without losing any of the special character that made our café unique.
You see, even though the Cozy Cottage was situated in the hustle and bustle of downtown Auckland, my vision for it was as a relaxed and welcoming country cottage café. I wanted people to feel instantly at home the moment they walked through our front door, to sit and relax over a cup of Ned’s Coffee, perhaps indulge in one of the many sweet treats we had on offer.
At first, I’d considered calling the place “Stop and Smell the Roses,” because that’s what I wanted people to do. I ended up with “Cozy Cottage” after I’d stumbled across my idea of a perfect country café in Devon on a trip to England. I’d fallen in love with the homely charm of the place, and once back home in New Zealand, I set about finding the perfect spot to replicate it.
The Cozy Cottage Café had been my passion, my happy place, ever since.
“Morning, chicks!” Sophie’s bright voice called out as she bustled by me on her way to the back of the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late. The traffic is mad out there today.”
“No worries, Sophie.”
Sophie joined the staff when I’d first opened the café doors about eighteen months ago, and she was my most reliable barista—traffic issues this morning aside. It helped that she was incredibly sweet, too.
I picked up a Cassata alla Siciliana cake, my personal favorite, to carry out to the food cabinet at the counter. Delicious cheese cake meets the bakery, I made Cassata alla Siciliana from a recipe handed down from my grandmother, a staunch Sicilian who emigrated to New Zealand in pursuit of love as a young woman. She married her man and settled here, where my mom and I were born. It was my favorite of all the cakes and pies she had taught me how to make. And she’d taught me to make a few.
Sophie walked out into the café as she tied one of our Cozy Cottage pink aprons with the white polka dots around her slim waist. “Now, tell me all about the speed dating night. Did you meet Mr. Right?”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head.
“How about Mr. Right Now?”
I laughed, shaking my head once more. “Not even one of those.”
“Oh well. Better luck next time.” She shot me a breezy smile and powered up the coffee machine, ready for the early-bird customers who would come through the doors shortly, looking for their breakfast and first caffeine fix of the day.
“Oh, I won’t be speed dating again, I can tell you that right now.” My cheeks flushed as I thought of Reg the robot-maker, Fake Jamie Oliver slash Fabio—and Adam.
“Well, if that’s the case,” Paige said as she joined us at the counter to slide another freshly baked cake into the cabinet beside the Cassata alla Siciliana, “we need to come up with another way for you to go on your Last First Date.”
“Hmmm.” Although I’d agreed to this pact, I was having serious second thoughts about my chances of finding “The One,” no matter how positive my friends were being for me. It all seemed too hard. “By my calculations, I had four Last First Dates at the speed dating thing. That’s more than enough for anyone.”
“You’re in on that pact, too?” Sophie asked, her eyebrows raised.
“I am . . . or I was . . . Oh, I’m not sure.” I scrunched up my face.
“Don’t be put off, okay?” Paige put her hand on my arm. “You’ll find him. Look at me? I thought Marcus was the man for me, until I realized it was Josh.”
I glanced at her pretty face. I wished I had her blind optimism. After my experience last night, I was more than happy to let the whole thing slide.
And anyway, the problem was, I had found him, I’d found “The One.” Just over five years ago. In fact, I’d found him, and I’d kept him. Happily. It was the best thing I’d ever done with my life.
And I knew I’d wanted to be with him forever. Dan, my soulmate, my love. When he’d proposed, there was no question in my mind we were right for one another, that we belonged together. And we were so in love, so happy.
Until he was gone.
A chill came over me.
I’ll never forget the moment I learned Dan had died in a horrific mountain biking accident. Dan, my fiancé. Dan, the guy who should have been my Last First Date, before any of us made the pact. We’d only been engaged for a matter of weeks, and then he was gone. Leaving me sad. Alone.
Broken.
Like Ryan.
I pasted on a smile. “You’re right. I will.”
Better to act like I agreed with her to avoid the inevitable plotting and planning I knew my friends were capable of. Heck, I’d plotted and planned to find Paige’s Last First Date—and I’d got it right. Thanks to my matchmaking, Paige and Josh were now fully-carded members of “Happy Coupledom.”
Maybe I was better at this for other people than I was for myself?
I glanced at the clock above the door. A handful of minutes to opening, but there were already a couple of men in business suits milling around out on the sidewalk.
“Are we ready to open up?” I asked the girls.
“Sure!” Paige wound her way around the counter and out through the café, extracting a key from a pocket under her apron as she walked. She pulled the door open. “Good morning, gentlemen. Come on in!”
And so the morning went, with our usual long line of customers drinking Ned’s Coffee and eating their homemade meals, cakes, and snacks. We were always so busy, but it never felt like work to me.
I was putting paninis together to be toasted for the hungry lunch crowd due into the café in the next hour or so, when Paige stepped into the kitchen, her face beaming.
“What is it?” I asked with a smile.
“You have got to come out here.”
I knitted my brows together. “Why? What’s up?”
She took the tub of mozzarella from my hand, placed it on the kitchen counter, and handed me a clean cloth. “No questions. Just come.”
Obediently, I wiped my hands and followed Paige out into the café and around the counter, where Sophie was serving a lone woman a slice of one of our cakes. We reached the table in the window where Cassie and Marissa were sitting.
“Hi, Cassie. Hi, Marissa.” I smiled down at them.
“Sit,” Paige commanded.
I pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. Once we were all seated, I looked between my friends’ faces. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Cassie has news.” Marissa’s face was as bright as Paige’s.
I turned my attention to Cassie. Her cheeks were flushed, framed by her long, auburn hair. Without a word, she lifted her left hand. My eyes were drawn instantly to the large, sparkling princess-cut solitaire diamond on her ring finger.
My jaw dropped open as I looked from the ring up into her eyes. “Did he . . .?”
She nodded, trying—and failing—to bite back a grin from bursting across her face, happiness emanating from her.
“When? How?”
“Last night, after the speed dating thing. I’m so sorry about that, by the way.”
“Oh, forget about it. It was nothing. Now, let me get a look at that rock.” I took her hand in mine and studied the ring. It was breathtakingly beautiful in its simplicity, a solitaire diamond in a platinum claw.
Will Jordan had outdone himself.
“That is gorgeous! And huge! Oh, Cassie, I’m so happy for you.”
I leapt out of my chair and hugged her, surprising myself as tears sprang into my eyes. Tears of happiness—and something else.
Something I didn’t want to think about.
“Did you two know?” I asked Marissa and Paige as I sat myself down once more, dabbing at my eyes with my fingers.
“It was a little hard for her to hide that rock. It’s so big it could cause a total eclipse of the sun.” Marissa grinned at her friend.
“To me, it was the look on her face the moment she walked through the café door that gave her away,” Paige said, ever the romantic.
I glanced over at the counter. With Paige and I both sitting at the table, Sophie was left on her own. I didn’t want to miss out on hearing all about Cassie’s engagement, but we’d hit a quieter patch, with only a couple of customers waiting in line. I mouthed, “Are you okay?” and Sophie gave me the thumbs up.
I shot her a quick smile and returned my attention to Cassie. “Tell me everything. I need to live vicariously through you after my dating disasters last night.”
“Well, I went to meet Will at about eight-thirty. I thought we were going out for a late dinner, as we sometimes do. Instead, he took me to the golf driving range we spent a lot of time at last year. You know, when I was trying to dazzle Parker with my nonexistent golfing expertise?”
We all laughed. There was no way Cassie was a born golfer.
“Oh, my God!” Paige exclaimed, her hand over her mouth. “The driving range is where you fell in love! Cassie, he is so romantic.”
“I know,” Cassie replied with a grin. “So, we got into the driving range and he purchased a tub of balls as usual. Then we went to our cubicle. I kept shooting him looks, because he was acting kinda weird, you know? But I figured he’s pretty sports mad, so I just went with it.”
“And?” Marissa was the least patient of all of us. “How did he do it?”
“Well, we each hit a few balls—or, he hit some, I missed most of mine,” she added self-deprecatingly. “Then he asked me to get a pink ball out of the tub. It was the only pink one, and I hadn’t noticed it before. I picked it up and spotted something strange about it, but I put it on the tee, all the same.”