“Pushover,” she muttered, picking up a slice of pizza.
Yeah.
I was.
“He was asleep in fifteen minutes anyway.”
“That’s fine. I’m not mad. Is he okay?” She tore the slice in two.
“Yeah, I think his tiredness took over in the end. He was much better after he spoke to you.”
She nodded slowly. “He wasn’t bad at all?”
“Not for a second. Except the teeth thing, but I think he was seeing if I was nicer than you, to be honest.”
She smiled, and I realized just how tired she was. “Thank you, Ollie. You really saved my ass today.”
“It’s fine. You really need to rest. You’ve had a long day.”
“No, I need to relax for a bit. I’m exhausted but wired at the same time.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Jesus.”
“Come here.” I opened my arms for her, and she stepped into them, wrapping hers around my waist. I held her tightly, circling her shoulders and rocking her gently. I knew today had taken its toll on her—I could see it in her eyes, see it in the way she kept looking around aimlessly as if she were looking for something to do.
“Thank you,” she whispered after a few minutes. “I really needed that.”
“I know,” I whispered back, kissing the top of her head.
“Thank you for the flowers. I was calling you when I saw all my missed calls.”
I smiled into her hair. “You liked the others, so I thought they’d go down well.”
“Oh, no, I left them on my desk.”
“You can get them tomorrow.”
London sighed, sagging against me. She showed no signs of letting go, and as long as she didn’t, I wouldn’t.
Having her in my arms felt too damn good.
I didn’t want to let go.
And I was so fucking glad I’d signed that contract with Seb today.
It meant I didn’t have to.
“Ollie…”
“Yeah?”
“Is it weird if I ask you to stay tonight?”
I didn’t say anything.
She twitched. “Not for, like, sex or anything like that.”
“Bollocks.”
She laughed tiredly. “I just… I’m just exhausted, and I really don’t think I want to be alone…” Her voice trailed off.
I squeezed her lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, London.”
“Okay, thank you. I can wash your clothes overnight, or—”
“No, I mean I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulled back and looked up at me. “What do you mean?”
“That meeting I was in earlier? I don’t know if you caught it on the phone…”
“Yeah.”
“It was with Seb.”
Her throat bobbed.
“I signed the contract.” My lips twitched to one side. “Bastard locked me down for ten years.”
“You actually signed it?” Her eyes were wide.
“Signed over my left kidney, too, I think.”
She hugged me even tighter. “Oh, then we can totally have sex. That’s fine.”
I laughed and cupped the back of her head. “Easy. Your son is asleep and I’d hate it if you woke him up.”
“Oh, big words.”
“And you are super tired, and you downed that wine so fast I think you’re a little drunk.”
“Maybe.”
“So why don’t I lock the door and we can either watch TV or just go to bed.”
London looked at me, her bottom lip jutted out. “Oh, look. We’re an old married couple already.”
I pulled her face to mine and brushed my lips over hers. “May as well start as we mean to go on, hmm?”
EPILOGUE – LONDON
RULE SEVENTEEN: AS IT TURNS OUT, TWO MINUTES IS MORE THAN ENOUGH.
JUST NOT IN THE BEDROOM.
Two Months Later
“Aw, there it is!” Ollie yelled, clapping his hands. “You did it, mate!”
“Yes! Yes!” Leo screamed, running out of the goal and launching himself at Ollie. He caught him with ease and spun him around.
I peered up from over the top of my laptop. “There’s a whole new AstroTurf at the center and you’re here in this pokey little yard?”
Ollie put Leo down and grinned at me. “I’m sorry, are we disturbing the new editor of the White Peak Chronicle?”
“Actually, yes.” I couldn’t help but smile. I’d caught that save, and Leo had finally—finally—got the top corner save he’d been working on for weeks.
The fancy new gloves Chris had bought him for his birthday last week hadn’t hurt, if you asked me.
Or the boots.
But the boots were Ollie’s fault.
The FIFA game he’d asked for for an entire month that came from Mom? Let’s not mention that.
“I did it, Mom! I saved the goal!”
“I know, I saw.” I grinned at him. “Good job, monster.”
“Who saved what?”
“Dad!”
I turned to see Chris in my kitchen. “Please, come on in. Did you even knock?”
He laughed and accepted the running hug Leo gave him, too. “Hey, buddy.”
“I saved the goal! The top corner! Ollie kicked it at me like bam! And I was like, oh no! So I jumped!” He demonstrated the jump and nearly battered into my azalea plant. “And I was like bam! Saved it!”
“Wowww,” Chris said, appropriately amazed. “That’s amazing, good job!” He winked over Leo’s head at Ollie. “Are you ready to go?”
“Awww,” Leo said, his shoulders dropping. “Can you play some soccer with us, Dad?”
I looked at his suit and shiny black shoes. And laughed. A lot.
Chris looked at me, then unbuttoned his jacket. “I can play soccer in this. You watch.” He took off his jacket and undid his tie, loosened two buttons on his shirt, and went down onto the grass where Ollie was watching the exchange with amusement.
“Oh, I am so watching this.” I saved the article I was editing and got up to lean on the porch railings.
I was so watching this.
“So are we just kicking this at him?” Chris asked Ollie.
He laughed. “Yeah, they have the mini tournament this Sunday so we’re doing some drills.”
“Awesome. Take it in turns? Are we keeping score?”
“At how many times Leo kicks both your butts? You bet!” I leaned forward and grinned as both men glared at me.
This was fun.
Chris had been as good as his word and immediately put in a request for a transfer. The team in Idaho had been so impressed with him they’d accepted it, and he was now only a three-hour drive away from White Peak.
It was a trip he’d made every weekend for the last three weeks, since he’d moved here.
This was his week off, and he was about to take Leo for a few days to show him his new house so they could decorate Leo’s room.
After a game of football, apparently.
Soccer.
Fucking soccer!
“Ohhhh!” Ollie leaned forward, laughing, as Chris sent the ball way to the left.
“Damn!” Chris slapped his thigh.
“Swear jar!” Leo pointed at him. “One dollar!”
I smiled. Watching them was an amazing thing to witness. Not long after me and Ollie had started dating—right after Grandma’s heartburn that she swore to this day was one hundred percent a heart attack—Chris had made an effort to be friends with Ollie.
He told me it was because he knew he was the one for me.
I think he, as a soccer fan, just wanted someone who liked the game as much as he did.
Either way, I appreciated his effort. Ollie gave just as much effort as Chris did to his friendship with him and his relationship with Leo, and Chris had come to appreciate that Leo had a strong male influence in his life every day when he was working. I thought he’d be more threatened, but he wasn’t.
And, naturally, that’d
brought he and I closer together.
We would never be best friends—there was far too much water under the bridge for that—but we could hold a conversation, alone, about just about anything and get along.
And I could laugh at him playing soccer.
It helped that my special edition of the Chronicle had gotten Ebony fired. Somehow—I blamed Sebastian—my boss had found out about her threatening me and decided it was the last straw.
Turned out, I wasn’t the only one she’d threatened. She’d gone after some of the interns, too.
I’d had the best time rearranging the team to what they wanted to work on, not what Ebony wanted them to work on, and had hired two of the interns part-time to cover local news.
And I was happy.
Happier than I’d been in a long time.
My phone buzzed on the table, and I went back to sit down. I picked it up and opened the message from Piper.
PIPER: Maverick Donovan was just in my bakery
I frowned. I knew that name. Why did I know that name?
ME: I know that name
PIPER: THE AUTHOR
PIPER: THE GUY WHO WRITES THE SEXY SEXY BOOKS
PIPER: THE GUY HOLLEY SET ME UP WITH TWO WEEKS AGO
ME: Oh. That’s awkward.
PIPER: AWKWARD? AWWAKRD?
ME: Can you stop yelling at me?
PIPER: London, I fucked the guy and ran out before he woke up BEFORE WE MET ON THE DATE. Then I slept with him again. Now he wants me to help him with his next book.
ME: Oh.
PIPER: Yeah. What do I do?
ME: Depends what the research is…
PIPER: Baking.
ME: I was hoping for something a little more exciting than that.
PIPER: Amen to that.
ME: Hold that thought. Let me send Leo with Chris, and I’ll be right there. We need to talk this over.
PIPER: PLS BRING ALCOHOL
PIPER: LOTS AND LOTS OF ALCOHOL
I didn’t think that was a good idea. I’d bet lots and lots of alcohol was why she was in this situation in the first place…
“Hey, what’s up?” Ollie approached the porch. “You look like you just got good news.”
I grinned. “You know that date Holley set Piper up on a couple of weeks ago? The guy who did a signing at the bookstore?”
He frowned. “Donovan someone?”
“Maverick Donovan.” I nodded. “Well, Piper took him to pound town more than once, and now he’s in her bakery asking for her help with his next book.”
“Oh. That’s… awkward?”
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “I know. This is going to be amazing.”
The End
Thank you for reading THE INTROVERT’S GUIDE TO SPEED DATING!
If you’re interested in Piper & Maverick’s story, THE INTROVERT’S GUIDE TO BLIND DATING is available for pre-order now and is releasing August 17th. Read on for more information.
THE INTROVERT’S GUIDE TO BLIND DATING
Blind dating: the act in which you date a stranger and hope it’s not the kid you once babysat. And try not to freak out when it’s your one-night stand from two weeks ago.
As the last woman standing, I, Piper Carter, am officially a loner.
Apparently, that means it’s time for me to get out there and find myself a man. My protestations that I have no time for it falls on deaf ears and the next thing I know, I’m on a blind date with someone my best friends assure me will be perfect for me.
Maverick Donovan, the guy I, uh, know very, very well…
After one conversation that makes my disdain for this setup very clear, the superstar playboy author asks me for only one thing: my help with his research for his next novel.
Turns out, the heroine in his next hot romance is the owner of a bakery, but all his ill-fated efforts are baking is the batteries in his fire alarm.
I agree. I’ll create some recipes for his leading lady, and he’ll credit me and my store, giving me the recognition I need to help me on my way to franchising.
If only we didn’t have to spend almost every free waking moment together to make it happen.
I don’t want to give my heart to the guy with a trail of broken ones behind him, but there’s a fundamental problem with that plan.
I’m pretty sure I’m doing just that…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over fifty novels and has been translated into several different languages.
She is a mother, wife, lover of wine, Pink Goddess, and valiant rescuer of wild baby hedgehogs.
Emma prides herself on her realistic, snarky smut, with comebacks that would make a PMS-ing teenage girl proud.
Yes, really. She’s that sarcastic.
You can find her online at: www.emmahart.org
BOOKS BY EMMA HART
Standalones:
Being Brooke
Catching Carly
Casanova
Mixed Up
Miss Fix-It
Miss Mechanic
The Upside to Being Single
The Hook-Up Experiment
The Dating Experiment
Four Day Fling
Best Served Cold
Tequila Tequila
Catastrophe Queen
The Roommate Agreement
The Accidental Girlfriend
Kiss Me Not
Kiss Me Tonight
Kiss Me Again
Frenemies
Number Neighbors
Hot Mess
The Bookworm’s Guide:
The Bookworm’s Guide to Faking It
The Bookworm’s Guide to Flirting
The Introvert’s Guide:
The Introvert’s Guide to Online Dating
The Introvert’s Guide to Speed Dating
The Introvert’s Guide to Blind Dating
The Girl Next Door:
The One-Night Stand Next Door
The Girl Next Door
The Vegas Nights series:
Sin
Lust
Stripped series:
Stripped Bare
Stripped Down
The Burke Brothers:
Dirty Secret
Dirty Past
Dirty Lies
Dirty Tricks
Dirty Little Rendezvous
The Holly Woods Files:
Twisted Bond
Tangled Bond
Tethered Bond
Tied Bond
Twirled Bond
Burning Bond
Twined Bond
Tricky Bond
By His Game series:
Blindsided
Sidelined
Intercepted
Call series:
Late Call
Final Call
His Call
Wild series:
Wild Attraction
Wild Temptation
Wild Addiction
Wild: The Complete Series
The Game series:
The Love Game
Playing for Keeps
The Right Moves
Worth the Risk
Memories series:
Never Forget
Always Remember