Page 33 of The Accidental Dating Experiment

I like that tone. I flash a cocky smile her way. But I still answer from the heart. “Yes. And I want to help because…I think you’re great, and I care about you, and I know how much finding a partner means to you.”

I don’t say no one deserves her though. And I hope she can’t hear it in my voice.

She seems to give that some thought before she adds, “Can I sleep on it?”

“Of course,” I say, relieved and hopeful.

The server arrives with our dinner, and the conversation shifts. Over the meal, we talk about our marketing plans for the podcast and the things we can do to grow it with the home proceeds. Then we segue to Eleanor’s sensual home itself, likely funded by her Christmas album.

“She sent an email this afternoon, asking what we thought of the house,” I tell Juliet.

“And did you tell her we already gave it a nickname?”

“I kept The Horny House between us. But did tell her it’s fantastic and we’re so grateful, then I asked how her honeymoon was. She said, and I quote, so good that I’ve only come up for air to send this email! Ta ta for now. Enjoy Darling Springs.”

She laughs. “Have I mentioned I love her?”

“She’s pretty great,” I say.

“The town’s not so bad either,” she says, then she gives me a dead-on look. “Is it hard, though, me doing this dating thing with my mom?”

That’s a gut punch. But only for a second. “Losing my mom was a long time ago.”

“I know, but still. I can tell she was…special.”

I nod, memories tugging on my heart. “She was. There aren’t many moms who build you a tree house.”

Her green eyes sparkle with delight. “She built you a tree house and taught you to ride a bike.”

“And to read a book,” I add.

“All the best things in life,” she says.

“Yeah.” I don’t even try to picture my mom anymore. It was so long ago, more than two decades. But she’s all the good things from when I was younger. “Also, you’d have liked her. She liked cats.”

“The woman had taste,” Juliet says.

“How’s your boy doing?” I ask, moving the conversation away from me and onto her.

She shows me a picture Rachel sent of the black-and-white guy rubbing up against her leg and purring. “This was taken even after she fed him, proving I have the best cat,” she says.

“Yeah, you do.”

She looks at the pic on her phone a little longer, then sets it down. “And I suppose it’d be nice to have more than his company.”

I hate how sad she sounds right now, but I hope she’ll let me help solve her dilemma. I desperately want her to agree, for all the reasons I shared with her.

And also…maybe because a tiny part of me is hoping for a little romance.

No, that’s not the right word. It’s just that, unlike those bad boys, I know how to treat a woman.

I’d like to show Juliet what it’d be like to date a real man.

When dinner is done, I pay. That’s the very least that a man should do.

13

THE SECRET SAUCE