The Bookworm's Guide to Dating

your book home and seeing bent pages or a damaged cover, and while the tissue paper wasn’t exactly a metal safe, it did the job.
I wrapped the book and secured it with a sticker before putting it into a small bag for him. “Seventeen dollars, please.”
Josh handed me the twenty with a sigh. “I’m not getting this money back from her, am I?”
“No, but you know she’ll have your favorite cake in her room waiting for you as a thank you, so don’t be so grumpy.” I handed him his three dollars in change.
Literally in change.
He looked at the coins. “Why have you given it to me in quarters?”
“To be annoying. Obviously.” I grinned and shut the drawer so he couldn’t ask me to change it for three one-dollar bills. “Will that be all, sir?”
“No,” he said slowly, dropping the coins in his back pocket. “One of the guys wants to go out with you tomorrow night.”
My eyes widened. “Alone?”
“No, he’s bringing his parents.”
“Joshua.”
“You asked a stupid question, so I gave you a stupid answer.” He shrugged. “It’s the engineer. He’s in town visiting his great-aunt tomorrow afternoon and wanted to know if you were free.”
“I am so not ready to actually go out with someone!”
“Then why am I doing this?”
“Well, I’m awkward and uncomfortable? I might climb out a bathroom window? Maybe end up choking on something so he has to Heimlich me?”
“Stop panicking.”
“I can’t!”
He put the book down and took my face in his hands. “Stop it, or I’m going to slap you.”
I stopped.
He was right in front of me, his handsome face barely inches from mine, and his gaze was holding mine hostage.
Something… tingled. Somewhere inside me.
Whatever it was, it was new.
And I was pretty sure it wasn’t a good thing.
“Please let go of me,” I breathed.
“Right.” He stepped back. “I’m giving him your number. He’ll text you so you don’t have to worry about me reading your conversations.”
“How else am I going to know if I’m being totally awkward if you aren’t reading them?”
“It’s called screenshots,” he replied dryly. “But surely you can handle one dinner with a stranger?”
“The evidence up until now would say no.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Right, okay. We’re having dinner tonight and I’m going to teach you how not to be a blubbering mess into your main course.”
“It’s cute you think I’ll make it past the starter.”
“Kinsley, I don’t think you’ll make it past the door,” he drawled, his eyes sparking with laughter. “But I was trying to give you some confidence.”
“It didn’t work.”
“I know.” He grabbed his grandma’s book and stepped back. “I’ll pick you up at seven and I’ll see if I can’t teach you a trick or two. Wear something nice, okay?”
“Nice? How nice? What kind of nice? Nice like jeans and a shirt or a fancy dress and heels nice?”
He backed toward the door with a grin. “Figure it out.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the bell dinged loudly as the door shut behind him.
He was gone.
Damn it to hell.

CHAPTER SIX – KINSLEY
rule six: you do have to ask about your date’s interests.
To be fair, Jamie Pope—the engineer from Moose Knuckle—was a prompt texter.
His first message had come through at exactly five-twenty-eight p.m. with a note that he was sorry he hadn’t messaged earlier, but he didn’t finish work until five.
I wasn’t an unreasonable person, and considering I was still panicking about what the hell I was supposed to wear to tonight’s date trial run, I told him it was fine and thank you for texting.
It was a good start.
There was a lot that could go wrong between now and our date, but here I was.
Killing it.
If I weren’t naked, I’d totally brush dirt off my shoulder like a cringey nineties’ pop video.
My phone buzzed with a text message and I glanced down.
JAMIE: So where’s good in White Peak to eat? I don’t get over there much, but my great-aunt just moved into the assisted living facility so I’ll be there more often.
It was so fun to hear all the names people called that place. Assisted living, retirement home, old people’s home… I just thought it was a home for the insane elderly for the most part.
Judging by the upcoming duck parade, it wasn’t like I was wrong.
ME: Did you know they just got ducks?
JAMIE: There was a lady talking about duck-sized bonnets on eBay when I called Aunt Elizabeth.
ME: That’ll be Mabel. My friend’s grandma.
JAMIE: She sounds like a hoot. Doesn’t help the food problem though
And this was why Kinsley Lane didn’t date.
She was a squirrel, ladies and gentlemen.
She also apparently talked about herself in the third person.
She was exhausting.
ME: Sorry. I went off on a tangent. FYI, I’m prone to that.
JAMIE: Good to know LOL
ME: Umm, there’s Bronco’s bar which is owned by my friend’s parents. Hot Stone Pizzeria does great pizza and you can eat in or takeout. Bella Italia is a great eat in place, and there’s also an Indian called Moti Mahal that’s really great.
JAMIE: What’s your favorite?
ME: Casual or sit down meals?
JAMIE: A date, Kinsley.
Oh. Duh. Idiot.
ME: Bella Italia or Moti Mahal.
JAMIE: I’ll check out their websites. If you’re free tomorrow night for dinner?
My cheeks burned even though he couldn’t see.
ME: I have to close the store at six, but I’ll be good to go from seven-ish.
JAMIE: I’ll let you know.
ME: Okay, great.
Look at me go!
All right, it was a little touch and go when I brought up the ducks, but he hadn’t balked and ran away at my awkwardness, so there was that.
Basically, I really did need Josh to help me after all.
Speaking of Josh… time had swiftly passed while I was texting Jamie, and I was now running late. Quelle surprise.
I dropped my phone and stared at my closet. Without knowing where we were going, I had no idea what to