Blind Date With a #Cop (Love Canyon: Blind Date with a Book Boyfriend)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Cassie

If there’s one thing my grandmother loves more than baking pies for the church fundraiser, it’s meddling in my love life. Or rather, my non-existent love life.

Which is why I’m being hustled—yes, hustled—through the doors of The Book Boyfriend Lounge on a cool Thursday night, instead of curled up in my studio apartment with a mug of tea and a paintbrush.

“Come on, sugar,” Gran urges, pushing on my back with surprising force for a seventy-three-year-old. “You can’t paint all the time. You need to get out, meet people, maybe fall in love before my eyes go bad and I can’t see you walk down the aisle.”

“You had cataract surgery last year,” I remind her. “You don’t have any trouble seeing. Besides, I have no intention of ever getting married. Do you know what the divorce statistics are these days?”

“You’re missing the point.” She gives me the look; the same one she’s used since I was ten and refused to practice piano.

“You need to get out and join the living, dear. I know you love to paint, but there’s so much more to life.

Trust me, it goes by in the blink of an eye.

Now, put a smile on your face. Nan’s been saving seats for us.

And she says she has found the perfect book boyfriend for you. ”

Gran drags me to a table covered in cookies. I glance at her, then back at the table. “Are those…umm…male genitals?”

“Don’t be so surprised, dear,” Clara, Love Canyon’s resident eighty-four-year-old baker, smiles from behind the penis display.

“They’re educational cookies.” She lowers her voice to a whisper.

“And I do believe they’re anatomically correct.

I didn’t have time to conduct my own research, so I had to guess on the proportions. ”

I gawk at a particularly ambitious cookie that looks as though it might require two hands to lift. “Educational? For what?” I blush.

“For romance appreciation,” Clara says proudly, tucking a stray white curl behind her ear. “If we’re going to read about sexy, gorgeous men, we should have a proper visual. Here, take one. I made extra in case people want to take them home for homework.” She wiggles her brows.

Horrified, I take the monstrous penis cookie not because I want one, but because refusing Clara’s baked goods was considered a capital offense in this town.

“Come on, sugar,” Gran gives me a gentle shove. “Let’s grab a glass of wine and say hello to Nan.”

Across the lounge, Nan is perched in a corner armchair near the fire like royalty.

I’ve heard people talk about this place, but I’d never seen the Book Boyfriend Lounge with my own eyes.

It’s cozy with jewel-toned comfy chairs and big couches you can sink into.

The walls are lined with bookshelves that contain hundreds of romance novels.

But it’s the walnut bar gleaming under soft lighting that’s calling my name.

If ever I needed a glass of wine, it’s right now.

“Cassie!” Nan grins. “We’re so glad you could make it. We’ve got a blind date book boyfriend picked out for you that’s going to knock your socks off.”

“Great,” I mutter, cradling my wine glass as I slide into the seat beside Gran. “Just what I need, a fake man to spend long hours with.”

Gran pats my hand. “You might thank us yet, sugar.”

I seriously doubt it. But when Nan leans forward, her eyes twinkling like she’s about to unveil the grand finale of a magic trick, I feel a tiny prickle of curiosity.

I’m halfway through my “educational” cookie—purely for the sake of not offending Clara—when a police officer steps into the lounge. He clearly hasn’t received the memo that this is a wine-drinking-penis-cookie-romance book club.

The man is tall with broad shoulders, wearing a uniform that must’ve been tailored to fit his muscular body. I notice his dark hair is cut military-short with the perfect amount of stubble shadowing a square jaw. He’s scanning the room with keen eyes when suddenly—those eyes land on me.

I freeze mid-bite with half of a frosted testicle in my mouth.

Smooth, Cassie. Smooth.

Gran elbows me under the table. “That’s him.”

“That’s who?” I whisper, shoving the cookie under a napkin.

“Your blind date.” She smiles sweetly.

“Blind date?” I swipe my hand across my mouth, praying I don’t have frosting on my lips. “You said I was getting a book boyfriend. A book boyfriend is made of paper. Not flesh and bone.”

“Surprise, sugar,” Gran squeezes my knee. “You’ve got a flesh and bone boyfriend coming at you that I’d trade my right arm to get between the sheets.”

“Gran!” I hiss. “Are you on a new medication or something?”

“I may be in my seventies, sugar, but I’m not dead. I know a hot man when I see one. And the man Nan’s picked out for you,” she shivers like an excited schoolgirl. “Looks delicious!”

With eyes locked on me, he weaves his way through the group of preening women. He’s so ridiculously attractive I can’t look away. I pick up my wine glass, draining it.

When he reaches the table, Nan is grinning from ear to ear. “Cassie, this is your blind date, Officer Blake Donovan. Blake, meet our Cassie.”

“Date?” I echo before I can stop myself.

“Date?” He echoes back. “I thought I was here because you spotted a prowler outside?”

“Oh, that,” Nan waves her hand, “Clara’s Ernie stopped out back to drop off the cookies she forgot at home. He was banging on the door so loud we thought for sure he was a prowler.”

His mouth twitches, “Is that so?”

“Cross my heart,” Nan draws her fingers across her chest.

I want to crawl under the table and die. “I’m sorry, officer. This is all a terrible misunderstanding.”

“I see that,” he nods.

“It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

“Alright, you ladies enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As soon as he leaves the lounge, Gran kicks me under the table. “What’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “That man is perfect for you. Nan went to a lot of trouble finding you the perfect blind date.”

“I don’t do blind dates. And I don’t date men old enough to be my father.” I hiss back.

I hear a cough and look up to see a dark blue uniform.

“My shift ends in an hour. I’ll be back to pick you up for our blind date,” Blake declares.

My jaw drops, but before I can protest, he’s already walking away.

“Gran,” I groan, gripping the edge of the table. “What just happened?”

She beams, “You just got claimed, sugar.”