Page 49 of Beau & Autumn

“Hey, I’m just keeping it real.” He runs out from the bunker firing. “You gonna back me up, dude or just sit there on your hands?”

“Shit, sorry.” I run after him, my gun pointing as I aim at everything in my path. My heart isn’t in it, and he knows. Autumn has my thoughts jumbled.

I still haven’t replied to her text because I had no idea what to say. I also got so busy at work bottling and left my cell charging in my office; something I rarely do. Now it looks like I’m ignoring her.

“I guess time will tell,” he says. “But you gotta put yourself out there, bro. If she doesn’t know how you really feel, then it’s kinda pointless.”

Of course Fletcher doesn’t know about the whole marriage idea. I can’t say anything as I promised Autumn, but if I confess how I feel now, then she’s going to run a mile.

Then again, marrying her without saying how I feel also feels dishonest somehow.

I can’t seem to get a damn break.

“I guess…”

“Women are complicated,” he goes on, the regular Dr. Phil. “You have to get into their brains, and even when you do, there’s no guarantee you’ll figure it out.”

“Uh huh, once again, remind me of the last time you dated?”

“I have a date this weekend, actually.”

I balk. “Who with?”

Another pause. “I’ve no idea. It’s a blind date.”

“Fletch, you gotta stop puttin’ yourself out on those dating apps. Haven’t you watched America's Most Wanted?”

“You’re forgetting one vital thing.”

“And that is?”

“I can hack into anything and do a background check.”

I laugh. “I forgot that.”

“I figure if her only crime is not returning her library books on time, it’s a fairly safe bet.”

“Is she from town?”

“I told you I don’t know yet. I’m keeping this one on the DL, that way if I like her, I’ll do a check after the date. No point in wasting my energy or resources before we’ve even had a coffee.” I guess he has a point.

“I bet your fingers are itching to do it.”

“The trouble with chicks these days is they’re selling themselves short.”

I snort. “How do you figure?”

“They seem to always go for the rich guy, the smoothest line, or the guy who wears a suit well and looks like Henry Cavill. How can I compare with that? I’ve come to realize I can’t. No point shooting above my average if all the chick is interested in is looks. I’ve got a brain, bought intel at six and I can hack into Homeland security, though I can’t exactly put that on my dating app profile.”

“Aww, Fletch. Want me to break out the violins?” I laugh.

I get what he’s saying. There’s a stigma sometimes against smart guys who don’t have what women consider to be ‘traditionally’ good looking.

“Not all of us look like a Bassett,” he sighs.

“Hey, you’re not ugly bro. I definitely saw Penny Roundtree checkin’ you out that time we had drinks at Moose’s.”

“You told me. Penny’s too shy, she barely says a word around me.”

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