The Bookworm's Guide to Dating (The Bookworm's Guide 1)

For another man.

I did my business, washed my hands, and headed back out to the restaurant. Kinsley was tapping away at the screen of her phone with a furrow in her brow, and she rolled her eyes as she put it back in her purse.

“Everything okay?”

She looked up as I took my seat. “Holley’s having a mental breakdown.”

“What did you do now?”

“Ha ha.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “She’s undecided between three window displays. Saylor told her she’d surprise her and she flipped out.”

“How do you survive not only having a control freak as your best friend, but your co-worker?”

Kinsley ran her tongue over her lips. “I spend a lot of time reorganizing the books.”

I choked back a laugh. To say they were sisters and only ten months apart, Holley and Ivy really were like night and day.

“All right, let’s do this,” I said, pushing the thoughts of her upcoming date out of my mind. “So, what do you do?”

Kinsley’s eyes widened for a split second before she caught herself. “I own a bookstore,” she said quietly. “With two of my best friends.”

“That’s cool. Is it here in White Peak?”

She blinked—too quickly.

“I’m just asking about your store, Kinsley. You’re not going to go to jail if you don’t answer.”

“If I could reach, I’d kick you under the table,” she muttered. “Yes, it’s in town. Bookworm’s Books.”

I fought the smirk that wanted to take hold of my lips. “Cool. So you’re a bookworm.”

She opened her mouth then froze. “I’m not falling for that, Josh. That’s a trick question.”

This time, I didn’t bother to hide the smirk. “Ah, but what would you say in real life?”

“Obviously, it’s written like five times in my profile.”

“Wrong answer.”

“So now I have to hide my snark? Boy, whoever makes it past date three is going to be in for a shock if they think I’m a polite, slightly nerdy chick who likes to hike.”

“Slightly nerdy? You’re selling yourself short.”

“Exactly. I don’t see why I can’t go all in and let them know they’ll always be my second love behind books.”

“Because, Kinsley, when you start talking about books, nobody else can get a word in. You need to talk to your date about their interests, too.”

She snorted and picked up her glass. “Being a considerate human being is so overrated.”

Well, if this was how her date was going to go, I didn’t have to worry about Jamie at all.

“Okay, we’ve established you own a bookstore. Now is where you return the question,” I said. “Ask me about my job.”

“I know what you do.”

“Pretend I’m Jamie.”

“I know what Jamie does.”

“Jesus Christ, woman, work with me here.”

“Fine.” She took a deep breath and plastered a fake smile on her face. “So, you’re a builder.”

It would have been more sincere without the smile, but at least she was trying.

I think.

“I am,” I replied. “I got an apprenticeship with Watts and Sons Construction out of high school, and I’ve worked there ever since.”

“Cool. What are you working on right now?”

This was good. She was getting somewhere. “Building a new special education building at the local middle school. We should be done in a week.”

“Awesome.”

Silence.

My lips twitched. “Run out of questions?”

“Ugh, yes! Why is this so hard?” She slumped forward onto the table.

“Because if it were easy, nobody would be single,” I answered. “Look, there’s always going to be an awkward part in the date. It’s not going to be flawless conversation the whole way through, and if we were on a date for real, I’d jump in now with a question that’s relevant to what I already know about you. So I’d ask about the bookstore or if you’ve been to the restaurant before.”

She blew out a long breath, but she was rescued from furthering the conversation by the arrival of our food. It was placed in front of us by a waitress neither of us recognized, and after assuring her that we were fine for drinks, she left us.

We passed the next few minutes in silence as we both ate. Kinsley had her meatball special, and I had the Prawn Madras. It was a comfortable, companionable silence, only broken when we both reached for the last poppadum before we split it.

Honestly, I’d say it was like something out of the movies where two people’s eyes met over the table, but no. It was more like the poppadum snapped as we grabbed it, and she got two thirds while I got the smaller portion.

Such was my life.

“Are you an only child?”

I jerked at her question. “What?”

“Damn it, Josh. I’m trying to be a good date and pretend like I’m interested.”

I choked back a laugh. At least nobody could fault her for her honesty. “Okay, sorry. You took me by surprise. Go again.”

She sighed dramatically, dipping her cheese naan into the sauce left on her plate. “Are you an only child?”