The Accidental Dating Experiment (How to Date #4) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: How to Date Series by Lauren Blakely
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
<<<<112129303132334151>80
Advertisement


It wasn’t to avoid my father’s Want to play golf Wednesday? text.

I was wound up waiting for Juliet’s answer. Hoping she’d say yes.

Now that she has, I’m not going to kick back. I’m going to make damn sure I can deliver for my friend and colleague.

Who’s pretty handy, it turns out. I’m learning all sorts of things about Juliet during our stay in this house.

How much she cares about her parents’ happiness.

How open-minded she is to new ideas.

And how well she knows her way around a toolbox. Right now, she’s kneeling on the hardwood floor in the poker room, plucking screws from a compartment while she uses a Phillips head to emphasize her points.

“I’ve got this whole dating coach thing mapped out,” she begins, and I’m damn eager to hear her plans. Hell, I’m thrilled she’s devised some already. “So, I’ll pick three men from Date Night. We’ll go on three dates.”

Rather than stand here like a sloth, I join her on the hunt for screws. “Sure, that makes sense. Have you used that app before?” I ask as I kneel next to her, looking for the right size in the toolbox to fix this table.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, only a few thousand times, and I’ve picked badly. Though, in my defense, the single men of the world are pretty skilled at hiding their toxic traits long enough to lure you in.”

Shit. I don’t want her to think I was judging or blaming her for her dates not being worthy of her. “Completely understood,” I say. I look up from the toolbox, meet her gaze, and speak from the heart. “Honestly, I think what you’re doing is totally brave. It takes a lot of guts to put yourself out there.”

“You do?” It comes out gentle, curious. Like my opinion matters.

“I truly do.”

“Thanks,” she says, dipping her face for a few seconds. Then she looks up, her expression soft. “I appreciate you saying that and your encouragement. It is a little scary. But I think I’m excited.”

“Me too,” I say without any sarcasm either.

She holds my gaze for a beat longer than I’d expect, and the look in her green eyes makes my pulse spike. But that’s just how things go when I’m near her. I’m used to my body’s reaction when we get close.

She breaks eye contact and pokes around in the toolbox some more. When she finds the screw she’s looking for, she brandishes it theatrically. “And to answer your question, yes, I used Date Night when I went out with Ludwig a few weeks ago.”

“Was he as douchey as the name implies?”

“If by douchey you mean did he like to quote famous women like Maya Angelou and Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Marie Curie, and choke up while quoting them, then yes. And if you want to know why he cried, it was because he was, quote, so moved by the accomplishments of women he had to share.”

I cringe. “Like I said, bad boy. But that’s the worst kind of bad boy. Because he thinks he’s a good guy.”

“He was convinced he was an inspiration to women everywhere,” Juliet says as she lines up the screw in the joint of the leg where it meets the table.

My palms are itching to do something. I feel a little useless right now, and I hate it. “Can I help?”

She flashes a smile. “Yes, you can help by listening to my rules.”

Fair enough. I comply.

“Anyway, I’ll use Date Night to find the men I would like to date,” she says, and my eye twitches.

My nose crinkles.

My chest burns.

The dragon is disturbed. But I remind myself she won’t really be dating those guys. She won’t be dating anyone for real this week.

Except me, for all intents and purposes.

Stand down, dragon.

“That makes sense. But I’ve got a rule of my own,” I say, holding my ground. This matters.

“Okay,” she says cautiously.

“No picking for shock value. We want this experiment to work.”

Her glossy lips part in an exaggerated O. “You mean don’t pick a twenty-two-year-old who lives at home, doesn’t vote, and says he only wants a girl who’s not like other girls?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Though, it would be fun to see you try to role-play an apolitical, sexist jerk,” she says, returning to her normal voice. I can spot the compliment in there and I like it. But I won’t make too much of it.

“I know you’re tempted to do that for the pure entertainment value,” I say.

“Soooo tempted,” she says as she turns the screwdriver. “But I’ll behave and select legitimate potential matches only. And then you’ll familiarize yourself with the guys…and choose the date activity?”

That all sounds reasonable, like a well thought out dating experiment. I only have one question. “When do you want to start?”

Shit. Did that sound too eager? Nah. I’m good at playing it cool.


Advertisement

<<<<112129303132334151>80

Advertisement