Page 13 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

If the floor could kindly open up and swallow me whole, I would most appreciate it.

“No… I didn’t mean?—”

“For the record, Ihavebeen with a woman. And Iwouldgo into a burning building to save a kitten.”

Unable to stop myself, I roll my eyes. “Everyone says that until they’re faced with Fight, Flight, or Freeze.”

Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me? Shut up, Allie! Quit while you’re ahead…

“Well, this has been a real joy,” he says, draining the last of his coffee and tucking the book under his arm. “You and Bisquick have a nice life together.Alone.”

“It’s Biscuit,” I mutter, cheeks burning as I hastily retreat to the table where Thatcher is watching.

I sink back into my seat and Biscuit gives me a consoling lick on the calf as Thatcher barely manages to contain his laughter.

“That was maybe the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” Thatcher says.

I groan and drop my face into my hands. “You said no pressure!” I argue.

“Lesson one,” Thatcher says, “always know who you’re talking to.”

“Got it,” I reply, tucking a strand of rebellious hair behind my ear. “Learned the hard way, unfortunately.”

“To be fair,” Thatcher says, crossing an ankle over his knee, “what egomaniac reads hisownbook in a coffee shop?”

“Right?!” I peek through my fingers at Thatcher, feeling momentary triumph. “And a signed copy, to boot!”

“And there’s no way a tool like him is running into a burning building to save anything,” Thatcher adds under his breath with a snort.

“Except maybe a signed copy of his own book?” I offer, perking up now, relieved that Thatcher is on my side with this. “Next time I’ll just insult his shoes and call him a mama’s boy.”

Thatcher laughs and the sound catches me so off guardthat I actually jump. But there’s a warmth in his gaze that I hadn’t noticed before. “I mean, you did practically call him a virgin back there. But let’s hope there won’t be a next time like this one.”

“Agreed,” I say, the embarrassment still fresh, but lessening. “So, what’s lesson two?”

“Damage control,” he replies with a knowing look. “And believe me, it seems we’ll need plenty of that if what I saw over there was your best effort at flirting.”

“Fantastic,” I sigh, slumping back onto my chair and hoping my crash course in flirtation improves before I accidentally declare war on an entire book club. “Admittedly, first impressions aren’t my forte,” I admit.

“Oh, I remember. One doesn’t forget being stalked into an alley,” Thatcher quips, but there’s no malice in his voice. It’s teasing and light, and I can’t help but smile.

“Hey, you’re not exactly Mr. Smooth Talker, yourself there,” I counter, trying to match his playful tone. “Until you, I’ve never actually been able to use the line: Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” We both laugh and it feels good to finally break the tension we’d been holding on to since yesterday. “Let’s hope I don’t send every man you find for me running for the hills.”

His chuckle lessens and he shakes his head, lifting a full cup of coffee that he must have ordered while I was embarrassing myself to his lips. “A man who runs from you has to be certifiably insane,” he says.

Time stills and his smile dies as he realizes what he just said. Our eyes lock for a moment as something flutters in my chest—like a tiny bird suddenly taking flight. I never would have guessed banter with him could be so easy. Not when he was a gruff one-word guy up until now.

I clear my throat. “Well, I think running soundspainfully monotonous. So let’s cross all runners off my list, yeah?”

“No runners,” he says, his voice dropping a notch. “Got it.”

I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand. “So, what’s my next challenge, coach?”

“First, we—” He starts, but the words are cut short by the sound of the café door swinging open with a bang.

“Daddy!” A pint-sized tornado with curly black hair and bright green eyes comes barreling through the room, making a beeline for Thatcher. My eyes widen as a stunning woman follows closely behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “Duke saw you in the window and sprinted off.” The platinum blonde woman couldn’t be older than twenty-three. Her lips are plump and glossy, and her cheeks are flushed from the chase.

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