Page 41 of The Accidental Dating Experiment
Eleanor Longswallow would never let me down.
I thank and tip the Lyft driver, then walk up the stone path that meanders through overgrown gardens to Prohibition Spirit. It’s right on the edge of town, not far from the beach. The door is a deep, rich red and the windows are up high, near the ceiling. Too high to see through. It’s impressive, this speakeasy vibe from the outside.
I take a deep breath, drawing in warm summer air tinged with a salty sea breeze. But I still feel…jangly, with nerves hopping left and right. I hope this outfit isn’t a mistake. I hope this whole dating experiment isn’t a mistake.
I smooth a hand over the satin corset I found in Eleanor’s closet of sexy wonders. It’s black, tight, and hot. No idea how vintage it is, but I’m just grateful Eleanor and I fit in the same clothes. I also sprayed a tiny dab of my vanilla and honey perfume on the corset, and voila. It doesn’t smell like a closet. It smells like me.
I glance down at my bare arms, a little glittery thanks to the lotion I rubbed in.
I’ve got on jeans and a pair of red platform sandals. My hair’s swept up in a loose twist with tendrils framing my face.
I really should go in, but my belly swoops once more with nerves. Is this too outlandish, this dating experiment? Is this outfit too sexy? Should I dab off my red lipstick?
Probably. I snap open my purse and hunt around for a tissue when shoes click on the stone path behind me, then deep voices laugh. Two handsome men are heading my way. One has deep brown skin and shiny shoulder-length hair and wears a sharp vest. The other is fair-skinned and freckled and sports a tight paisley shirt.
“Need anything, hun?” the blond asks kindly, stopping a few feet from me.
“Just a little courage for meeting my date?” I ask.
The guy in the vest shoots me a sympathetic smile. “First date?”
I nod.
“You look great, if that helps. And this is a great place for a date too. This is where I met Bowen a year ago,” he says, then runs a hand down his date’s arm. Bowen looks at the dark-haired man with such affection my own heart skips a beat or two. They seem so happy. That’s why I’m facing these nerves. To move closer to finding my own happiness.
“But I met Vikas online first,” Bowen points out.
“And we’re getting married on the lavender farm here next month,” Vikas puts in.
Small world indeed. “The one Ripley runs?” I ask, thinking of my new friend.
“The one and only.” Bowen reaches out and squeezes my arm affectionately. “You never know when you’re going to meet the one. Now, c’mon, hun. We’ll walk you in if you’re ready.”
I am so very ready. “Let’s do it.”
Bowen swings open the door, and I head inside, jazz music greeting me. Immediately, I soak in the atmosphere—dark wood walls, mahogany bar tops, leather furniture, and subdued lighting. A long, elegant counter is stocked with a variety of whiskey brands on mirrored shelves.
“Do you see him anywhere?” Bowen asks, looking around. “Please say he’s the hunk in the suit at the bar.”
Vikas gives a low whistle. “Yesss and please and sir.”
Bowen chuckles, then drops a possessive kiss onto his soon-to-be husband’s cheek as I turn my gaze to the end of the bar, searching for Monroe, playing Jared and?—
I gasp. My heart stutters. “Ohhhh.”
Vikas laughs. “That’s right. We told you the vibes were on point.”
And so is my dating coach. He’s wearing the hell out of a deep blue suit that hugs his strong body. No tie. Monroe’s holding a tumbler of amber liquid, and he hasn’t seen me yet. He’s sitting at the bar, casual, relaxed, and…powerful.
When I swallow, I realize my throat is dry.
“Go get your happily ever after,” Bowen says.
“I will,” I say to them, and my voice sounds a little floaty. Hell, I feel a little floaty as I head to the bar.
As I walk, Monroe’s gaze swings to me. His eyes darken, smolder, glimmer. He never looks away.
It’s thrilling and gives me hope for this date.