Chapter 5
Five
Delaney
The Millbrook Diner hasn't seen this much excitement since Mayor Patterson's wife caught him kissing the librarian behind the gazebo three summers ago.
Every booth is occupied, conversations suspiciously hushed, and I swear Sue Gilbert has repositioned herself four times to get a better angle on our corner table.
Someone must have tipped them off about our meeting…
Mac slides into the cracked vinyl seat across from me, his broad shoulders blocking my view of half the diner. Good thing, because I don't need to see the entire town watching us like we're dinner theater.
"So," he says, wrapping his large hands around a coffee mug that looks tiny in his grip. He looks much better now than he did yesterday, like he got a good night's sleep for the first time in weeks. "Ten dates to prove love exists. What exactly does that mean?"
I pull out the notebook where I've been scribbling ideas with Maya since our confrontation.
My handwriting looks manic, words crossed out and rewritten in the margins.
She has taken this whole thing just as seriously as I have, helping me plot out each date and the tropes they represent, along with alternatives to switch out if we need to.
Which is why I'll be speaking to her later about taking the liberty of sharing our meeting with the entire town.
"Romance novels are built on specific tropes. Scenarios that happen over and over because they tap into universal truths about attraction and love," I begin, waving my hands around enthusiastically, the way Maya always teases me about.
"Or because people want to read the same fantasy repeatedly." Mac's voice carries that familiar edge, but his eyes are focused on my notebook with genuine curiosity.
"That's what we're testing." I flip to a fresh page, uncapping my pen with more confidence than I feel.
I can't stop thinking about how crazy this is—sitting across from him, laying out the rules of a bet.
"Each date will be based on a different romance trope.
Fake dating, forced proximity, enemies to lovers–"
"We're already doing fake dating. And enemies to lovers."
The comment catches me off guard, and I look up to find Mac watching me with an intensity that makes my stomach flip. "We're not enemies."
"What would you call it?"
I think for a moment. "Philosophical differences."
Mac laughs, and the sound transforms his whole face. For a second, I see the boy I used to pine after during summer vacations, before grief carved lines around his eyes. "Right. Philosophical differences that involve you storming into bed and breakfasts and challenging me to prove love exists."
"You insulted romance in front of millions of people," I say defensively, my mouth popping open.
"I stated facts."
"You hurt people." The words come out sharper than I intended. "Including yourself."
Something flickers across Mac's expression before he schools it back to neutral. "So how do we structure this bet? What are the rules?"
I'm grateful for the redirect, even though part of me wants to push that crack in his armor. "Full participation in each scenario. No sabotage, no half-hearted attempts. You have to genuinely engage with each trope."
He raises a brow. "Define 'genuinely engage.'"
"Whatever the scenario requires. If it's fake dating, you hold my hand and act like a boyfriend. If it's forced proximity, you can't storm off when things get uncomfortable."
He leans forward, lowering his voice. “If you want me to touch you, Delaney, all you have to do is ask. We don't have to construct such a spectacle around it.”
My mouth hangs open in shock. “That's not… this isn't–” I shake my head, unable to find the words. “It's not about that, Mac. Surely, if I wanted to seduce you, I would have gone another route.”
“Would you?” He asks teasingly, the ghost of a smile on those full lips.
I swallow, glancing around before I lean close and lower my voice the same way he did. “I've learned a thing or two from those romance books you hate so much. I can make a man worship me on his knees without some petty wager.”
I don't know where the words come from, but I'm definitely enjoying the look on his face in response.
His jaw tightens, knuckles rapping on the table as he leans as far away from me as possible. "And if you can't convince me? What do I get when I win?"
"When?" I raise an eyebrow. "Confident much?"
"I've seen what love does to people, Delaney. I've lived the aftermath."
The way he says my name, low and rough, makes heat pool in my stomach.
I force myself to focus on business. Glancing around, I drop my voice to a whisper.
"I already told you. If you win, I’ll display your autobiography prominently in the bookshop for a full year.
Front counter, window display, the works. "
He shakes his head. "I don't care about book sales."
"Then why agree to this?"
Mac studies me for a long moment, his blue eyes unreadable. Around us, the diner's normal chatter has dropped to whispers. "Maybe I'm curious to see how far you'll go to prove a point.”
Thankfully, he follows my lead and lowers his voice the same way I had to state his terms. I wish we set this meeting up at my shop so we could have some modicum of privacy. “How about if I win, you have to come to every Howlers game when I return next season? In my jersey."
I frown. “Why would you want that?”
“Because I'm willing to bet you haven't been to a single hockey game your entire life. If I have to take part in your world, you'll have to fully take part in mine when you lose.”
“In your jersey?” I swallow. Is there some hidden meaning behind wearing a guy's jersey number to his game? I'm probably missing a huge piece of whatever joke he's trying to make.
He nods. “These are my terms.”
I lift my finger. "Maybe you're scared I'll actually succeed."
Another laugh, but this one has an edge. "Terrified."
The honesty in his voice catches me completely unprepared. Before I can respond, Maya slides into the booth beside me, her arrival breaking whatever spell had settled over our corner.
"Sorry, I'm late." She sets her laptop on the table and shoots Mac a chilling glare. "I've still been doing damage control on social media since your little podcast explosion."
Mac's shoulders tense. "How bad?"
"It started off as us trending on three platforms, threats in our DMs, and someone started a petition to have you banned from all bookstores in New England, but I've managed to flip the script in our favor. I can only imagine what hell your publicist is going through." Maya's smile is sharp.
“I hadn't even considered what my publicist is dealing with,” he admits.
"Might want to give her a call,” she suggests with a pointed look. “Your event yesterday helped tamper it down quite a bit. The good news is, I've gotten them distracted with this bet.”
“You've posted about it?” Mac asks in a panic, his eyes shifting to all the people around us as realization dawns on him.
Did he really think the diner is always this busy?
“Right. We're going to have a nice long talk about boundaries,” I tell Maya, offering a look that could kill.
“People are fascinated by it!” She chirps, holding her phone out for him to see all the notifications. “If we play it right, this could actually help both of you."
“Who is she again?” He asks me. Neither of them have warmed up to one another since their introduction at the shop just before doors opened for his signing. She claims she's standing in solidarity with Lily, but I think she just can't stand the alpha-athlete type after working with them.
“I'm your best bet at fixing this horrible image you insist on creating for yourself.”
His angry expression falters, and I watch the resignation fall over him. He has no choice but to go along with this now. “Play it right, how?”
Maya opens her laptop, showing us a social media feed full of comments about our original confrontation. Apparently, someone followed me and filmed part of it through the inn's doorway. I cut my gaze to Maya's unapologetic face.
"We document the whole thing. Show Mac's journey from romance cynic to... well, whatever he becomes. Turn the negative attention into something positive."
"A publicity stunt." His voice is flat. “Maybe I should talk to my team before agreeing to anything. See what they think about the bet and how they predict it will affect my image.”
"A redemption arc," Maya corrects. "Go ahead. Your team will love it. People go bonkers over a good comeback story. Hockey player learns to believe in love again after tragedy? That's catnip for romance readers and sports fans. You'll double your audience."
I glance at Mac, trying to read his expression. "We don't have to document anything if you're not comfortable–"
"Do it." Mac's decision is immediate and surprising. "If we're doing this, we might as well go all in."
"Really?" Maya looks as shocked as I feel.
Mac shrugs, but there's something calculating in his expression. "Like you said, people love a comeback story. Maybe it's time I gave them one."
The conversation turns to logistics after that. Maya outlines her social media strategy while Mac and I hammer out specific rules for each date. He's surprisingly engaged in the planning, asking detailed questions about what each trope entails.
"Question about the fake dating one," Mac says, pen poised over the napkin where he's been taking notes. "How fake are we talking?"
"What do you mean?"
"Hand holding, casual touching, acting like we're together. But how together?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "Whatever the situation requires."
"That's not an answer."
I offer him a sharp look. "We'll figure it out as we go."
Mac's gaze lingers on my mouth before flicking back to my eyes. "Dangerous territory, considering you're trying to make me fall in love with love."
I force myself to smirk at him to hide the terror coursing through my veins at his words. "Scared you'll lose the bet?"