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

She was tall, standing only two inches shorter than me without heels. She had long, blonde hair that curled over her shoulders and halfway down her back, and eyes so blue you’d think she was wearing contact lenses.

She was also absolutely beautiful, great company, and had a great sense of humor.

So why wasn’t I planning on asking her out again?

Because I’d fucked up.

That was all I had.

I knew realistically that I didn’t really want to go out with anyone. All I had to do now was get through the last twenty minutes of this date, drive home, and collapse into my bed.

This was what happened when I engaged my mouth—or my fingers—before my brain.

“Do you ski?”

I blinked and refocused on Jess. “I’m more of a snowboarder. You?”

“I love skiing. My dad owns the lodge on Harvest Mountain.” She beamed. “We could go soon.”

Great. Her dad was rich as hell. “Isn’t it a bit early in the season for it?”

“Hmm, you’re right. Sorry. I got ahead of myself.” Her smile stayed firmly in place. “Do you want to get dessert?”

I glanced at my watch. “You know, it’s getting late, and I have to drive back to White Peak. Do you mind if we call it a night?”

“No, not at all. I understand.”

I motioned for the check and, as soon as it was brought over, fought off her insistence to pay her share. I finally won the battle, noted the tip, signed the receipt, and slipped my card into the wallet.

It took only a minute for our server to return with my card. After that, I helped Jessica into her jacket and guided her to the parking lot where I walked her to her car.

A slick BMW. Of course.

I’d love to see her drive that up a mountain track.

“I had a great time.” She beamed up at me, showing her pearly-white teeth. “Thank you.”

I forced a smile and hoped she didn’t see how fake it was. Not that I’d had a bad night—I hadn’t. With any luck, she’d write it off as me simply being tired.

“Me too,” I replied. “Thanks for a great evening.”

She tucked some of her long hair behind her ear. “Talk soon?”

I smiled and nodded. After I’d seen her safely into her car, I waited until she’d reached the edge of the parking lot before I got into my truck and followed her out to the main road. We took different turns at the next intersection, and I left tonight’s date behind me.

Figuratively and literally.

The knowledge that I wasn’t in a place to date right now was a punch to the gut. Tonight with Jessica was supposed to jolt me into action, to remind me that there were a million great women out there, but all it had done was reminded me that while I’m sure there were great women out there…

None of them were Kinsley.

And that really, really fucking sucked.

With my grand plan up shit creek without a paddle, I had no option other than to ride this out and hope she found a guy to go out with soon. If she was off the market, maybe it’d help me get back in it.

The rest of the drive home was painless, except for a random traffic jam just outside White Peak. Most of the cars had been heading up toward the other side of town where it was easy access to all the trails, and there were a bunch of cabins out there where the tourists loved to stay.

Bad for traffic, great for local businesses.

It was a catch twenty-two.

I pulled into my driveway and got out. I hadn’t checked my mail today, so I did a quick about turn to get to the mailbox and grabbed the mail in there.

It was all junk.

I let myself into the house and tossed it in the trash, then headed down to the basement. The man cave was everything you’d expect with a pool table in the middle, a makeshift bar and stools in the corner, and a dart board on the wall at the far end. A huge TV covered another wall, and I grabbed the remote to power it on as I passed.

I went behind the bar and grabbed a glass. It wasn’t Bronco’s, but I had enough liquor here to kill a grown man.

Or at least knock him out for a few hours—and that was something I needed.

I poured a double gin and tonic and sat on one of the bar stools. I’d recently replaced the huge barrels that had served as stools when I’d moved in, and while the comfy stools didn’t have the same cool effect, they were just that.

Comfortable.

Besides, I hadn’t gotten rid of them. They were now side tables for the sofa I planned to buy.

One day.

I sipped the gin and tonic and flicked through channels on the TV. There was nothing I wanted to watch at all, so I turned it off and pulled out my phone instead.