Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
He nods, solemnly. “I do. More than I should.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“I think about how medical school was a mistake for so many reasons. But also because that stupid residency took me away from you.”
My heart slams against my rib cage, but then it aches too. Even if circumstances hadn’t separated us, what would we truly have become? He’s a man who doesn’t allow sparks and butterflies outside of the bedroom.
“But wasn’t it for the best then? Given everything you said this morning?” I ask, facing that harsh reality rather than avoiding it.
He stares at me with such genuine vulnerability that my throat catches once again. But he doesn’t answer me right away. He lets go, grabs a rag from the floor, and drags it down my nose, cleaning up paint, then swipes it across my chest, removing it from there too.
His smile is sad, the scar too. “I wish I knew.”
Yeah, me too. “We should get back to painting.”
“We should.”
But we don’t. He kisses me for a good, long time, so long that I stop thinking about painting, and the past, and all the things I wish I knew too.
We take a break from the fumes—even with the bedroom windows open, they’re a little strong. In cozy outdoor deck furniture on the back porch, he works on his course, and I answer emails from clients about upcoming parties. Then, we brainstorm new marketing ideas for Heartbreakers and Matchmakers—collaborations we want to pursue with dating experts on social media, guests we might want to bring on, as well as dating trends to discuss. “When Rachel and Carter did that series of five first dates for Date Night, we talked about it on the show,” he says.
“I remember that,” I say, referring to both the dates they did for Carter’s dating app sponsor, as well as the episode. I listened to it during a morning workout since I wasn’t one of the hosts yet. “I heard that one and pretty much demanded to be on the podcast.”
He laughs. “Yes, you were adorable marching into that board game night at Carter’s place and pitching me.”
I shrug proudly, owning my gumption then and now. “What can I say? I knew you needed me.” I quickly add, “On the show,” so there’s no mistaking my meaning.
“Yes. I did,” he says, fondly, then he stares out at the wildflowers in the yard, maybe at the shed across the grass, his expression turning thoughtful. “We’ve covered some interesting trends for the podcast, haven’t we? I think that’s the key. Keep pushing forward in the dating frontier.”
Does he mean this and us? And do I even want to talk about it on the show? But as soon as the thought lands, I catch it and hold it close, knowing the answer instantly. I wouldn’t mind talking about the experiment. I’ve mostly been an open book on air. Why stop now? That’s my shtick—sharing. “Monroe, would you want to talk about this whole dating coach thing on the show?”
He shifts his focus to me, but it still looks like the cogs are turning in that big brain of his. “I suppose it was inevitable that it’d feel like podcast fodder,” he says and I’m pretty sure he’s going to say yes. “It’s definitely the dating frontier.”
“Especially if I ride you reverse cowgirl,” I offer since I’m helpful like that.
“What were we even talking about?”
“Exactly.”
“We should definitely experiment with that. Tonight.”
“Count me in.”
“As for the experiment itself…” He blows out a breath and I’m sure the why not is coming. But then he locks eyes with me. “Maybe when we’re done with it, we can revisit this. For now, I’d rather this be between us. What do you think?”
My heart stutters. I think I love that the experiment isn’t about the show. “Works for me.”
“Good. That’s very good,” he says, then shuts down his laptop. I set my tablet on the table and face up to another inevitable aspect of the experiment.
“You were right about Jared.”
“In what way?”
“I ran into him,” I say, then tell him the whole story, ending it with, “So I guess we really do need to keep going since you were right. You know men.”
He cups his ear. “Say that again.”
I narrow my eyes then grumble. “You were right.”
He lets out a satisfied sigh. “That’s sexy. Now come sit on my lap and say it.”
“You’re relentless.”
“And you like relentless,” he taunts, then pats his thighs. “Over here.”
“And voracious.”
“I’m not seeing the problem. C’mon.”
“And bossy,” I say.
“You like bossy.”
I really do. I scoot over on the outdoor sofa and sit on his lap, grabbing my tablet to show him my new picks. But a funny thing happens as I scroll through Date Night options. Monroe wraps his arms more tightly around me. He growls into my neck a little more. He kisses my shoulders more intensely.