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Chapter 1
Chelsea
“The whole thing is just kind of cheesy, isn’t it?” I put my hand over the top of my coffee mug to stop my best friend from aimlessly pouring another cup.
“What is so cheesy about it? I think it’s romantic!” She set the pot down, shooting me ayou-ruin-all-the-funglare. She took a drink of her coffee, half-shrugging her shoulders.
I sighed, lifting my mug to take a long drink. She watched me expectantly, waiting for me to admit that the coffee was cold and could’ve done with being reheated. The ratio was just right, though—the perfect amount of cream and sugar to balance out the bitterness. More coffee would’ve thrown it off, even if she was right and the coffee was cold.
“Seriously, Bridget? What’s so romantic about a couple of men having their pick of girls desperate for a Valentine’s date?” I rolled my eyes. Always the cynical one, as my mom would’ve said. I preferred to call it having high standards. “They get a list with pictures and questions, and they just get to pick a girl for the night. It just feels…cheesy!”
My best friend gazed off over my shoulder, already mentally preparing the fairy tale she was preparing to tell. “Hear me out,” she said, folding her hands together and resting them under her chin. “The woman who is hesitant to put herself out there ends up being chosen by the handsome, small-town gentleman for what could be her last first date. He takes her out to do something fun and then buys her ice cream. Then, they go on a second date and a third. Next thing you know, they’re engaged and planning their dream wedding. You never know what could happen.”
I scoffed when she sighed dreamily. “Life isn’t actually like one of your chick flicks.”
“You don’t know that.” Bridget looked thoughtful. “Why are you so skeptical? Don’t you want to fall in love?”
Here we go again.
It wasn’t unlike my best friend to romanticize things, even silly radio show contests. She was the type of woman who loved hearing about a happily ever after. Even more so, she likedconcocting one. In her mind, everyone got their movie-worthy love story.
“Falling in love rarely happens the way it does in a romance novel,” I told her, grabbing the folder of images.
Bridget scrunched her nose, refusing to accept the statement. “Sometimes, it does. You never know.” She gave me a look out of the corner of her eye that usually meant she was ready to play matchmaker, and I shook my head. When she grinned, there was no changing her mind. “I think it’s a fun contest.”
“Then why aren’t you the one covering it?” I nudged her with my elbow, reaching for the pot of coffee to pour a new cup. Bridget lifted her brow, watching me fill the mug after rejecting her offer to do so only a few minutes earlier.
“Because as the editor, I’m in charge of story assignment, and you need to lighten up,” she explained. When I glared at her, she put her hands up in mock surrender. “Look, just go do the interview and try to have fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”
I groaned, dramatically dropping my head back. She knew she had me cornered when I didn’t deny it, and Bridget clapped. “Fine,” I said. “I will go do the interview, but don’t get your hopes up that I’m signing up for next year or something. It’s not happening.”
“Deal.” Bridget grinned, and my stomach flipped. She was too excited. “This is going to be so much fun!”
I shook my head. She looked too proud of herself. “Whatever you say.”
I picked up the folder filled with social media research we had gathered—mostly the profiles for the supposed eligible bachelors and the top trending posts from girls who had applied. It amazed me that such a small contest had gained so much popularity—it was no wonder Bridget insisted we cover it. Iopened the file. “What kind of guy signs up for something like this anyways?”
Chapter 2
Graham
“So who are you going to pick?” Wade asked as he took my phone, scrolling through the profiles of the women who had applied to win a date with me.
I shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the faces that flowed along the screen. Some of them were familiar, which wasn’tsurprising in a place like Hazy Cove. It was a small town; there were only so many new faces. Those were the girls who stuck out the most. How was I supposed to pick just one?
“I have no idea,” I said, snatching the phone back out of his grasp. I clicked on the first picture, pulling up the question I had marked as most important.Describe yourself in one word.
Wade lifted his brow. “This girl is hot.” He tapped the screen, clicking on the picture.
“I went to middle school with her.” In middle school, she had braces and a terrible sense of humor. Judging by her smile, the braces had been worth it, but I wondered about her personality. Did it get any better over the years?
“I mean, she’s still hot.” Wade shrugged. “Wait, what’s wrong?” he asked when I rolled my eyes, backing out of the picture.
“She described herself as sunshine.” I scrolled again through the pictures.
Wade scoffed. “What’s wrong with that?”
“I just don’t think I could ever be with anyone who is happy all the time.” I looked up from my phone, and Wade looked at me like I’d made an asinine statement.
