Blind Date with a Book Boyfriend: a funny dramatic & steamy novella

by Lucy Eden

I picked my head up and looked at her.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. We didn’t use a condom that night, and this month, my period was late, so I took about four tests, and they were all positive.”

  I sat up and placed a trembling hand over her belly as if I’d be able to feel something moving inside.

  “When was this?” I asked.

  “Last week.”

  “When were you gonna tell me?”

  “I was saving it for an anniversary surprise, but then you said you wanted to try for a baby…” She shrugged.

  “Why didn’t you tell me when I just asked you if you wanted to try for a baby?”

  “I wanted to have sex first.” She shrugged again.

  “I remember doing something similar and getting my kissing privileges revoked.” I rolled onto my back and slid her onto my chest.

  “I don’t make the rules.” She grabbed my face and kissed me. “But I still have to go to the doctor, confirm the results, and wait to hear a heartbeat.”

  My heart was pounding in my chest. Jordyn was pregnant, and I was the father. I was going to be a father. I wanted to scream from excitement. I wanted to cry because I was gonna have a kid that Lola and Abuela would never meet. I wanted to call my parents and Erica. I wanted to hire an architect to start designing a nursery for the office. I wanted to wrap Jordyn in bubble wrap and hire a security detail and a doctor to follow her around twenty-four seven. Mostly, I wanted to hold the mother of our child in my arms and kiss her. So that’s how we spent the rest of the morning.

  “So, what’s your plan for today?” she asked as she dug through her drawer for a t-shirt.

  I watched Jordyn dress and stared at her flat belly, imagining how beautiful she would look swollen and pregnant.

  “It’s been exactly one year since we met, so I figured we’d recreate our first date.”

  “Does that include getting felt up in a movie theater?”

  “Whatever the lady wants.”

  “Will you run around Monty in your underwear again?”

  “I was hoping we could skip that part.” I grinned at her.

  “Boo.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me. “That was my second favorite part.”

  “Second?” I asked when our lips parted. “What was the first?”

  She raised a suggestive eyebrow at me and smiled.

  “Well,” I bent down, slid my palms under her thighs and hoisted her onto my waist before walking towards our bed. “We don’t have to wait for the end of the night for that.”

  My heart was still pounding when I opened the door to the bookstore and led Jordyn inside.

  “It’s empty today.” She looked around. “But I see the manager’s here.” Jordyn smiled and pointed to the two owners, one of whom was holding a small brown and white fluffy dog: the manager.

  “I guess it’s a slow day.” I smiled as we passed the counter where they were standing. One of them gave me a quick nod and my pulse quickened.

  Jordyn was picking up books, examining the covers and replacing them on the shelf.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like being hungry and then not knowing what to order when you get to the restaurant because everything on the menu looks so good.” She turned to me and grinned. “Maybe I’m hungry. Can we go to Public School and come back?”

  “I have a full day of stuff planned, so why don’t we find a couple of books now?”

  “Okay.” She shot me a suspicious look. “Well, help me decide.”

  “A Duke by Default?” I suggested.

  “Already read it… Wait, you haven’t read that one?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “It’s over. I’m moving out.” She giggled and kissed me. I started our pile of books.

  “Rafe: A Buff Male Nanny?” I held up another book.

  “Yes! But strictly for research purposes.” She grinned at me.

  “Don’t you want to read the blurb first?”

  She looked at the cover again. “Nope. Put it in the pile.” She smiled, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Here’s one called Daddy.” I grinned at her. She took the book from me and read the blurb.

  “I don’t think you’re gonna find much parenting advice in this one, but we’re taking it.”

  “Cherishing the Goddess?” I held up another book.

  “I love the cover. That title is ridiculous. Read the blurb.”

  “Billionaire Alexander Wolfe—” I began.

  “Ugh, billionaires. Gross.” She smirked at me.

  “Hey!” I frowned at her. “You’re about to have a billionaire’s baby.”

  “About to have a billionaire’s baby? That’s a great title. We should write that down and send it to Harlequin.” She laughed. When she saw I was narrowing my eyes at her earlier comment, she laughed even harder.

  She stood on her tiptoes to give me a sorry not sorry kiss, and I knocked over our small pile of books while she was distracted.

  “Shit. Let me get that.” I took a deep breath and lowered myself to one knee before looking up at her.

  “Mike?”

  I sucked in another deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to focus and remember the speech I’d planned. I’d dreamed of this moment practically since the day I met her, and now that it was here, I wanted it to be perfect. I was going to tell this kind, sexy, and funny genius how much every day of the last year meant to me and how lucky I was to have her in my life.

  “Jordyn, I didn’t believe in love at first sight until—”

  “Yes!” she screamed.

  “What?”

  “Yes. You’re asking me to marry you, right? Or did you really bend down to pick up the books?”

  “Well, no. I mean, yes,” I stammered, “I am asking you… I was going to ask—”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  “Yes?” I asked. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. A small part of me was actually worried she might say no, but the look on her face melted all doubts.

  “Yes!” she repeated.

  I screamed, jumped to my feet, grabbed her around the waist, and spun her around before remembering she was probably carrying our baby, set her down, and gently patted her belly. “Shit. Sorry, babe.”

  “Shut up, I’m fine. I’m engaged. I’m engaged!”

  “She said yes!” I screamed to the empty store.

  “Baby, who are you— Mom?”

  Jordyn’s parents, my parents, and my sister emerged from wherever they were hiding in the store and surrounded us. My mother rushed towards us, grabbed my fiancée’s bare left hand and shook it at me.

  “Micah, where’s the ring?” she demanded.

  Shit. I was so excited I forgot I had it. I dug around in my pocket for the ring my mother spent three months helping me design and presented it to Jordyn.

  “That is a huge diamond. Is that real?” she gasped.

  “Of course, it’s real, sweetheart,” Mom said. “Only the best for my daughter-in-law.” She grinned at us, and I saw she had tears in her eyes.

  Dad gently pulled her away from us, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.

  “If it’s too big, we can trade it in for a smaller one,” I whispered, and kissed Jordyn’s temple when we were out of Mom’s earshot. It was a four-carat cushion-cut diamond. The ring was ridiculously expensive and completely impractical for a programmer, but it was worth every penny to the look on Jordyn’s face as she gazed at it.

  “Well, you already got this one.” She shrugged, still not taking her eyes off the ring. “So, we might as well keep it.” She shot me a giant grin and kissed me, before running into her parents’ arms.

  “I have no idea what that woman sees in you, but if you ever get divorced, I’m on Team Jordyn.”

  “Good to know.” I put my arm around Erica’s shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Congratulations, Mik
e. You deserve this.”

  “Thanks. I wish Lola was here to see it.”

  “What makes you think she isn’t?”

  This was usually the point where I teased her about the new age-y, spiritual hippie phase she was in, but this time, I was curious.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think it’s a coincidence you met the love of your life while hanging out in a romance bookstore when you and Laura were so obsessed with sappy love stories?” She raised her eyebrow in question before turning in Jordyn’s direction. “I hope I’m next,” she called over her shoulder.

  After a big lunch at Public School 310, we spent the rest of the day reenacting the more PG aspects of our first date with our families before dropping Jordyn’s parents off at the Culver.

  My hopefully pregnant fiancée and I spent the rest of the night making love. Afterwards, I stared at the ceiling, thinking about what Erica had said to me in the bookstore while Jordyn drifted off in my arms.

  “Mike,” she said in a sleepy mumble, “if this baby is a girl, we should definitely name her Laura.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.” I dropped a kiss on her head.

  “Good night, goofball.”

  “Good night, baby doll.”

  The Soundtrack

  Usually, this is the point in my one of my books where you would find the Spotify playlist containing songs featured in and inspired by the book.

  (If you’re interested in my book playlists you can find them here. I worked really hard to put them together and I think they’re pretty good.)

  Instead here’s a list of all the books referenced in the story. I have personally read and enjoyed all of these books. Mike & I both cut our romance teeth on Jude Deveraux’s Velvet Quartet — tag yourself: I’m definitely an Alyx— and Brenda Jackson’s annual reunion cruises are definitely author goals.

  Most of the books on this list are small press or indie published and all of them can be purchased at The Ripped Bodice:

  The Duchess Deal - Tessa Dare

  The Princess Trap - Talia Hibbert

  The Bromance Book Club - Lyssa Kay Adams

  Velvet Promise, Velvet Song, Highland Velvet, Velvet Angel by Jude Deveraux

  Indigo - Beverly Jenkins

  Forget Me Not - Brenda Jackson

  White Whiskey Bargain - Jodie Slaughter

  Pink Slip - Katrina Jackson

  Everything She Never Wanted - Tasha L. Harrison

  A Duke by Default - Alyssa Cole

  Rafe: A Buff Male Nanny - Rebekah Weatherspoon

  Daddy - Jack Harbon

  Cherishing the Goddess - Lucy Eden

  *note: Daddy by Jack Harbon is not currently available from The Ripped Bodice, but I needed the title to make the joke work—I hope it worked. However, Kitten by Jack Harbon is sold at TRB and is also a very good book.

  Author’s Note

  Dearest Reader,

  * * *

  Thank you for reading Blind Date with a Book Boyfriend.

  The idea for this story hit me after my last meeting with the incredible romance authors of the RWANYC chapter. I was naturally excited about my upcoming signing and wanted to do something to commemorate the event.

  The Ripped Bodice has fueled some major milestones in my short writing career. I decided to make the leap into self-publishing after reading The 2016 State of Romance in Publishing Diversity Report. Almost a year later, I’d published my first paperback and The Ripped Bodice was the first store to carry Everything’s Better with Kimberly on its shelves. A signing at TRB is on every romance author’s bucket list and I’m still pinching myself.

  A normal person would buy a souvenir coffee mug & take a selfie in front of the store. I decided to write a book.

  I hope you loved reading Mike & Jordyn’s story as much as I loved writing it.

  For those who asked and anyone who may be wondering, if by some chance I get invited to do another signing at TRB, I will write Erica’s story.

  * * *

  Thank you:

  To Zaida Polanco, thank you for accepting my ridiculous phone call, only saying that it was bad idea once and telling me everything fun and romantic about Culver City while I scribbled down your every word. I’m so glad you’re pleased with the finish product. If it flops, I’m blaming you.

  For the record, I still think the Sinner joke killed. Get it? Killed? Okay, I’ll see my self out.

  The T&T crew. Thank you for inspiring me to improve simply by being better at writing than I am & thank you for talking me out of writing things that are sure to get me canceled.

  My amazing beta readers Marina Garcia, Lydia San Andres & Lory aka “Fact or Fiction” Wendy who read every word of this story, practically as I was writing and helped me eliminate all the eye rolling and the monsters.

  Kai for editing this story with almost no notice. You’re a rockstar.

  Romance Rehab, especially Jennifer, for your brilliant author services, particularly, the blurb critiques. You will pleased to know that Mike now longer bites his bottom.

  Judy, thank you for catching all of the words I missed and deleting all the extra spaces.

  My ARC team for giving their time and energy to read my work and help spread the word.

  Thank you so much, dear reader, for reading Blind Date with a Book Boyfriend!

  I hope you liked it. Please consider leaving a review wherever you share your good news!

  * * *

  February 2020

  Also by lucy eden

  Visit lucyeden.com for purchase details

  Everything’s Better With You

  Everything’s Better With Kimberly

  Everything’s Better with Lisa

  Cherishing the Goddess

  An Angel for Daddy

  Bear with Me

  Resolutions

  * * *

  Don’t miss my next release!

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  Click Here to Sign Up or visit Lucyeden.com

  Bonus Chapter

  one: cole

  2-6-5-3. Red X.

  “Fuck!”

  2-6-5-3. Red X.

  “Shit!”

  I typed my code into the keypad a third time with no success.

  "Goddammit!" I kicked the wood doorframe of the hundred-year-old Harlem brownstone I'd called home for the past six years.

  “Hey, asshole! Shut the fuck up!” a female voice shouted from the ground-level apartment.

  I looked over the banister to see a short woman with waist-length, chestnut-colored hair staring up at me, holding a baseball bat.

  "Crystal?" It was too dark to see her clearly. I was definitely more than a little buzzed, and my biological mother was the only short woman with long dark brown hair I knew. But why was she holding a baseball bat, and why was her voice different?

  With a little difficulty, I walked down the stairs to get a closer look. The woman took a step back as I approached and held the bat higher, tightening her grip on the neck.

  "My name is not Crystal, and I live here."

  Upon closer inspection—as close as I could get without getting clocked in the head, anyway—I could tell she definitely wasn't Crystal. She was younger, way more beautiful, with pale golden brown skin and she didn't have my birth mother's bright blue eyes. Crystal also moved back to Missouri four years ago. Most importantly, tiny Babe Ruth definitely didn't live in my house. I was drunk, but not that drunk.

  "You live in here?" That wasn't exactly how I meant to phrase that, but my brain and my mouth weren't cooperating. Also, I'd become aware that I was leaning against the brick wall of the stoop to support my weight.

  "Yes," gorgeous, not-Crystal hissed. "I live here." She was so sincere that I was hit with a wave of confusion, and when it ebbed, realization slapped me in the face. I took a step back and looked up at the door I had been kicking a moment ago, then I looked to the right at the door I should've been kicking.

  “Shit.
” I did it again. I went to the wrong fucking house.

  Why did these brownstones all look the same?

  I turned to head to the brownstone where my code would work, and I guess I turned too fast because I stumbled and had to grab the railing to keep from crashing to the ground.

  "Are you okay?" She lowered her bat, but she didn't take a step forward. I was drunk. I tried to enter the wrong house, and almost busted my ass in front of my sexy neighbor.

  “I’m fine, Crystal. Mind your business.” This ordeal was embarrassing enough without Batgirl, suddenly concerned for my welfare.

  Hadn’t she just called me an asshole?

  I didn't need her help. I was a grown-ass man who needed to walk twenty feet to his front door.

  "Excuse me?" she said. "Again, dickhead, my name is not Crystal, and you screaming in the middle of the night woke me up from my much-needed sleep, so it is my business."

  I turned to face her and felt myself sway as I tried to stabilize. Her outburst was sexy as fuck and I felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

  Nope. Nope.

  That was definitely the alcohol talking.

  I can’t kiss her.

  I have to get home.

  The word home floated to my consciousness, but instead of focusing on that goal, I decided to speak.

  "You kind of look like my mother, but not really. Her name is Crystal. I'm fine. Just got confused. My house looks exactly like my sister's house." I pointed at the brownstone next door before pointing at Kimmy's.

  "Your sister?" She gave me the look, the skeptical look I get when people found out about my adopted family. One would think I'd gotten used to it after all these years. Maybe it was all the tequila shots, but tonight it pissed me off. She continued, "The woman that owns this brownstone is not your sister, and I'm not your mother, so you need to take your drunk ass home, to your actual house, before I call the cops."