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“I’ll see if I can fit that in,” I promised, handing him his receipt. “What else are you doing in town?”
Grandpa shrugged, putting his aged leather wallet back in the pocket of his tan slacks. “I like cake. Wanna come get some cake with me?”
I grimaced. “I would love to, but I’m here alone today. I can’t really shut the door.”
He checked his watch—which matched the leather of his wallet, thank you. “It’s basically lunch. Surely you wouldn’t deny an old man a slice of coffee cake. And maybe another slice of carrot cake.”
A smile crept across my face. He knew there was no way I could say no to him, and he was right—it was almost lunch, and I’d be closing soon for half an hour anyway.
“Thirty minutes,” I said, getting up off my stool. “You go ahead and tell Ms. Donoho that I’m on a timer and I’m paying, okay?”
“No, I’m paying,” Grandpa insisted. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday, so consider this your birthday cake.”
Well, I wasn’t about to turn down birthday cake.
I grinned. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be right there, Grandpa.”CHAPTER FOUR – JOSHrule four: real women do not, in fact, have pillow fights in their underwear.Make sure he’s good in bed.
How the fuck Kinsley expected me to find that out I’d never know. I couldn’t ask him—he was a guy.
Of course he was going to fucking say he was good in bed. He was hardly going to admit if he’d never made a girl orgasm, was he?
I was regretting this already. I had no idea what I was thinking, offering to help her date people.
For fuck’s sake, I’d had a crush on the girl for years.
A pathetic little loser crush that I’d never acted on because her brother was my best friend.
Maybe this would help me get over the crush. It was the only thing I had to hold onto right now, because fuck knows why I’d put myself in this position.
I’d lost my damn mind.
That was all I had.
I had no idea how to matchmake Kinsley. I had no idea how to matchmake anyone at all. I’d never done it in my life, yet she was now expecting me to find her future husband.
On the fucking internet.
Who found their husband or wife on the internet?
Although, in White Peak, you probably had a better chance of it than meeting them in the bar.
It wasn’t exactly hopping here.
But that was the way I liked it.
I peered around at our work site. It was my break so I had a legitimate reason to be spending the next fifteen minutes on my phone, but that didn’t mean I was going to enjoy it.
I logged into Kinsley’s dating account on Stupid Cupid and checked the messages. Much to my chagrin, there were fifteen new messages since this morning when I’d last looked.
This was going to be a lot of work.
The first three guys didn’t fit her parameters at all. One was a pro snowboarder, and I’d never once seen Kinsley do anything other than grumble about mushy snow, much less do sports in it. The other two were just your everyday guys who were a one in a million.
A bit like me.
If that wasn’t a fucking kick in the teeth…
I deleted their messages and moved on to the next. He was a potential match—he was an electrician and liked to read sci-fi and dystopian novels.
Whatever the hell a dystopian novel was.
His profile didn’t show where he lived, but he otherwise lined up exactly with what Kinsley was looking for. I sent him a message explaining who I was and asking where he lived, then moved on.
By the time I was done, I’d identified three possible dates for her and become more than a little acquainted with some self-loathing.
The door to the trailer swung open and Colton walked in, blowing out a long breath. “Why do you look like your puppy just died?”
I blinked at him. “I’m tired,” I lied. “Why do you look like a dust storm threw up on you?”
“Fucking new kid.”
Ah. Yeah. Our newest recruit to the building site was inexperienced, but he made mistakes not many people who were actually builders would make. I was starting to wonder if he knew what he was doing at all.
It was becoming tiresome.
Colton fired up the coffeemaker and held up a mug in question. When I nodded, he put my mug under the machine first and fixed my coffee before he did his.
“What are you doing in here?” He sat down opposite me at the table and peered at my phone. “A dating site? Since when did you use fucking dating apps?”
“It’s your sister’s,” I said dryly. “I agreed to help her find a date, remember?”
Colt wrinkled his face up. “I thought you were kidding when you told me that.”
