Three Last First Dates Read online

  Three Last First Dates

  A romantic comedy of love, friendship and even more cake

  Cozy Cottage Café Series

  - Book 3 -

  by

  Kate O’Keeffe

  Three Last First Dates is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  ISBN-13: 978-1976434822

  ISBN-10: 1976834823

  Edited by Chrissy Wolfe at The Every Free Chance Reader

  Cover design by Sue Traynor

  Copyright © 2017 Kate O’Keeffe

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  My name is Marissa Jones, and I’m totally committed to not being committed.

  There, I said it. It was out there.

  In fact, I had a long and impressive history of avoiding commitment. I was the Commitment-Phobia Queen, if you will. I was good at it, really good. If you looked “commitment-phobe” up in a dictionary, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if you’d have found a photo of me, running away from some bewildered-looking guy as quickly as my feet could carry me.

  That was why, when it came to dating, I was fussier than an OCD patient off their meds. And why not? A girl had to have standards, right? I never expected to “settle” for someone, and nor did I want to. No way. No one but Mr. Absolutely Right would do for me.

  Only problem was, I was having a hard time finding him.

  That’s why I agreed to a pact with my best friends to marry the next guy I dated. Which in hindsight, for a commitment-phobe like me, was an off-the-charts crazy thing to do. Certifiable. I had really only agreed to the pact because I was sick of dating—that and the large amount of chardonnay I had imbibed that evening.

  To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t really taken it all that seriously at the time.

  And then “the thing” happened and I knew I had to find him, I had to find The One. There was simply no more time to waste.

  But, instead of going on a regular old date with some random guy, I decided to go on three dates in one day. I liked the math: one of me, three of them. It more than worked in my favor.

  Not only that, I had thoroughly vetted each of the three guys before I even threw on my outfit for the first date. If this was going to work—and I really, really wanted it to—I needed to go in with my eyes wide open.

  “I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” Paige said, shaking her head and smiling at me over our cups of coffee, what was left of our slices of cake in crumbs on our plates. “Three dates in one day? You’re brave.”

  “Why not? You and Cassie put all your eggs in one basket, and I don’t want to do that. I mean, I know you ended up with the right guys in the end, but they weren’t the men you went on your Last First Dates with, right?” They nodded. “Well, I figured going out with three different guys has to improve the odds.”

  “You’re right about that.” Paige nodded, her eyebrows raised. “Can you give us the lowdown on who these guys are? We need all the details, right, Cassie?”

  “Oh, yes. Especially how good they look with their shirts off,” Cassie added with a wicked grin.

  “Well, I’m hardly going to find that out on a first date, but”—I raised my hand in the Girl Guides’ salute—“I do solemnly swear to report all important details to you as they transpire.”

  My friends were thoroughly invested in me finding The One. They had been in on the pact and were now both coupled off. Cassie had found hers, a guy from our workplace called Will, and was now blissfully happy, and Paige had just started dating hers, a guy called Josh who wore the nerdiest T-shirts I’d ever seen. But they seemed incredibly happy, too, and that was what mattered.

  That was what I wanted.

  Bailey was our other friend in on the pact, but she was currently behind the counter, serving the customers at the Cozy Cottage Café, a place Paige, Cassie, and I hung out at a little too often for our waistlines. Paige had recently become Bailey’s business partner, and we had grabbed a rare chance to sit down together and share a cup of coffee and a slice of Bailey and Paige’s delicious cakes. Personally, I had just cleaned up a slice of orange and almond syrup cake, the one I always had at the Cozy Cottage.

  “So?” Cassie said, looking at me in expectation.

  “Okay.” I laid my hands flat on the table on either side of the empty dishes. “As you know, I’m going on three dates with three different guys all on the same day and they get to choose where we go and what we do.”

  Although I wasn’t running a scientific experiment or anything, I had decided each guy would get to choose where we went and what we did on our dates. That way, I could get a clue as to what kind of people they were pretty quickly—and whether they were right for me. I mean, if one of them had said we were going to go to a chess tournament and then onto a war museum to see an exhibition of nineteenth century medals, I might have had second thoughts about dating him.

  Paige clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is so exciting!”

  I pressed my lips together. Exciting? Maybe. Terrifying? Definitely. I swallowed down a lump in my throat, pushing my bobbed hair behind my ears.

  “Just think, one of those men is The One for you.” Paige’s face shone as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

  Paige had always been the romantic one of our group of friends. She was the one who suggested the pact on the beach that night, the one who truly believed we all had a special person out there, just waiting to be found. Although she’d got the love speed wobbles not that long ago, she was now a fully carded member of Happy Coupledom and wanted everyone else to join the club, too.

  “Well, he’d better be,” I said, pushing my anxiety down. “I’ve put a lot of time and effort into vetting these guys.”

  And all I would say about that is social media was a wonderful invention for us would-be stalkers.

  “Tell us about them,” Cassie said.

  “Well, the first guy I’m meeting is probably the wild card of the trio. His name is Coleman, and he’s really smart and creative and interesting. He’s Matt Damon.”

  I always liked to work out which Hollywood star the guys I dated resembled. If I couldn’t find one, or much worse, the guy resembled someone like Danny DeVito, I didn’t take things any further. Call me shallow, but I liked a guy to be easy on the eyes.

  Was that a crime?

  Coleman had Matt Damon’s blue eyes and his hundred-watt smile, and although he was taller than his Hollywood counterpart, he had a similar kind of quiet confidence.

  “Matt Damon, huh?” Paige said.

  “Yup,” I confirmed.

  “So, why’s he the wild card? Smart, funny, looks like Matt Damon. These are all good things, right?” Cassie asked, looking from me to Paige and back to me again.

  “Yeah, it’s his job that’s kind of . . . out there,” I replied.


  “Oh? What does he do?”

  “He’s a . . . mortician.” I held my breath, awaiting their reaction.

  “What?!” Cassie and Paige shrieked in unison. Café patrons at neighboring tables turned to look at us. I shot them a sheepish smile to reassure them I wasn’t currently torturing my friends.

  “Settle down, you two. He’s not all weird and creepy with it. He’s a regular guy. He just does something . . . out of the ordinary, that’s all.”

  “What’s out of the ordinary?”

  I looked up to see Bailey standing beside our table, smiling down at us. She was dressed in her trademark Cozy Cottage Café red apron with white polka dots, matching the one Paige discarded to come sit with us fifteen minutes ago.

  “Want to take a seat for a second? Marissa’s telling us about the dates she’s going on this weekend.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Bailey said, pulling a chair from an empty neighboring table over to ours. “Paige? Is it okay if you keep an eye out for customers?”

  “Of course,” Paige replied.

  Paige had only become joint owner of the Cozy Cottage with Bailey a matter of a few weeks ago, and already they had made a bunch of changes to the place, including opening on a Friday night for musical performances. In my confident moments, I had been toying with asking them if they would allow me to sing one night, but I hadn’t plucked up the courage to do so yet. One day, maybe.

  The Cozy Cottage Café was our favorite hangout. With its welcoming atmosphere, comfortable seating, and large fireplace, it felt more like you were in someone’s living room than a café in busy downtown Auckland. It was the perfect setting for our cozy catch-ups. As Paige had put it, it was our happy place.

  “What is this thing that’s out of the ordinary?” Bailey asked as she flicked her dark curls behind her shoulder.

  “Marissa’s first date is with a mortician!” Paige said, with obvious delight.

  Bailey tilted her head to the side. “Well, that is out of the ordinary. How exactly did you meet a mortician?”

  “Actually, we met at the supermarket.” I looked at my friends’ open mouths. “Morticians eat too. Geez! Anyway, you know that urban myth about how if you have bananas in your shopping cart on a Tuesday you’re telling others you’re single?”

  “Ah, no?” Cassie replied.

  “Well, it’s a thing. Trust me. So, he and I both had bananas in our baskets and he commented on how I had a larger bunch of bananas than he did and that it wasn’t fair and he was going to call the Banana Police.”

  “Oh, how cute!” Paige said. “He’s a flirt.”

  “He’s a flirtatious mortician. That’s kind of weird, Marissa,” Cassie said.

  I shrugged. “He’s human; we flirted. Big deal. Anyway . . .” I flashed my interrupting friends a look. “We flirted up a storm, right there in fresh produce. As you know, I’m a seasoned veteran when it comes to flirting.” I grinned at my friends. It was true, I could flirt with the best of ’em. Although that’s usually as far as it went, thanks to my commitment-phobia.

  That was all about to change now. It had to.

  “Where are you going on your date with this mortician?” Bailey asked.

  “A flirtatious mortician,” Cassie added.

  I chose to ignore her. “We’re meeting for brunch at Alessandro’s, that swanky café downtown.”

  “So, not a cemetery?” Paige asked, elbowing Cassie.

  “Or a morgue?” Cassie added with a giggle.

  “No,” I said firmly. “Go on, get the jokes out of your system. But remember, this guy could be the one I marry and have children with, and you’ll have to be nice to him then.”

  Of course, I got why they thought Coleman’s job was weird. Heck, I thought it was weird. But really, it’s just a job like any other—only with lots of dead bodies and sad people around you all the time.

  “No more jokes, I promise,” Cassie said as she tried to suppress a grin.

  “Except, if Josh could make a shirt for him, I bet it’d say, ‘Keep embalmed and carry on,’” Paige said, referring to her boyfriend’s penchant for pun T-shirts.

  I noticed Bailey’s eyes sparkling as she pressed her lips together. “That one’s funny, you have to admit it, Marissa.”

  I shook my head good-humoredly and let out a sigh. “You three should be on the stage.”

  “I would have thought he would have gone for something a little more original than brunch at a café, though,” Bailey added.

  I shrugged. “It’s what he chose.”

  “Right, so first up is Coleman the flirty mortician who looks like Matt Damon. Then who is it?” Paige asked, getting the conversation back on track. “I need to focus here. I’ve got to get back to work shortly. We can’t spend all our time sitting around here, eating cake. Although, that does sound very appealing.”

  I raised my eyebrows. It was true, we had a thing for cake. We each had our favorites: Paige’s was carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, Cassie’s was the flourless raspberry and chocolate cake, and mine was orange and almond syrup cake. All delicious, all heavenly.

  “Okay. Well, the next guy I’m dating is Nash.”

  “Nash, huh? Nice name. Where did you meet this one?” Paige asked.

  “It’s a nice story, actually. I was on my way to meet you for lunch a couple of weeks ago, remember, Paige?”

  “Oh, yes! I remember you saying some guy had asked you out. The way it happened was so romantic.” She put her hand to her heart.

  “Nash is that guy. Anyway, I walked past that construction site over on Jervois Road. You know the one, they’ve been working on that place for months.”

  “Oh, yeah, I do. The builders always whistle and call out when you walk past,” Cassie said. “It’s so annoying and embarrassing. I wish they wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know, right? That’s what happened to me. Only, Nash heard them doing it and yelled at them to be quiet. Well, he used other words than ‘be quiet,’ which I won’t mention right now. They did what he said, and he jumped down onto the sidewalk next to me in his boots, took off his hard hat, and introduced himself to me.”

  “He sounds dreamy,” Bailey commented, a whimsical look on her pretty face.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s definitely that,” I replied, thinking of the way his hair was all flat when he removed his hat and how he ruffled it up with his fingers. “Dreamy” was the word for him.

  “You like him the best,” Cassie said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

  My face warmed up, much to my annoyance. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Who’s his Hollywood doppelgänger?” Bailey asked.

  “Oh, that’s easy. He’s Jon Snow. Well, Kit Harington, the guy who plays Jon Snow. Only taller. He’s got to be over six foot.”

  Bailey looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, you’ve lost me. Who’s this Jon Snow person?”

  I furrowed my brow. Bailey had to be the only straight woman on the face of the planet who didn’t know who the delectably dark, brooding, and oh-so manly Jon Snow was. “He’s on Game of Thrones.”

  “Ah, you see, I don’t watch it,” Bailey replied.

  “Yeah, I don’t either, but I know who Kit Harington is. Bailey, you need to borrow some of my trashy magazines,” Cassie said. Turning to me, she asked, “Where is date number two?”

  Before I had the chance to reply, Paige’s chair scraped across the hardwood floor as she pushed herself up. “I want to hear everything, okay? Right now, duty calls.”

  I glanced over at the counter where two professionally dressed women were perusing the shelves of cakes, pastries, and the new line of pies Bailey and Paige had recently introduced. Those pies were doing nothing for my thighs, they were so good, and I’d extended my morning runs by an extra mile or two to compensate. “I’ll fill you in. Go, run your café.” I smiled at Paige, and she beamed back at me before she returned to the counter.

  “I’m meeting Nash at Meola Reef,” I
said, naming a beautiful seaside park a few miles west of downtown Auckland. “All he said was to bring sensible walking shoes.”

  “Sensible walking shoes does not sound romantic, even if he does look like a tall Jon Snow,” Cassie said, pursing her lips.

  “I know,” I said with a shrug. “But he’s cute and I’m serious about making this whole Last First Date thing happen. I figured I’d give it a shot.”

  “Go in with an open mind,” Bailey said with a smile. “And if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have something pretty to look at.”

  I laughed. “Exactly.”

  “So, that’s Nash. Who’s date number three? Wow, this feels like an episode of that old TV show, what was it called?” Cassie asked.

  “Blind Date?” Bailey offered.

  “That’s the one. Behind curtain number one is a flirty mortician who likes to eat bananas,” Cassie said with a theatrical wave, and I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. She was right, this whole Last First Date thing was a little like being on a dating show. “Behind curtain number two, we have a construction worker who likes his women in sensible walking shoes.” Cassie grinned. “And who do we have behind curtain number three?”

  “A guy I met when I had to go to that swanky menswear place in the city to pick up a suit my stupid brother had ordered.”

  I thought of how my big brother, Ryan, had been sleeping on my sofa since his breakup with his girlfriend. He’d asked if he could stay for “a few nights.” That was nearly four weeks ago, and he was still here, depressed and virtually permanently attached to my sofa.

  “Does this man at the swanky menswear place have a name?” Bailey inquired, pulling my thoughts back to my Last First Dates.

  “He’s called Blaze,” I replied, bracing myself for my friends’ inevitable reactions. Blaze wasn’t exactly a common name in Auckland, and they were bound to have a thing or two to say about it, knowing them.

  Bailey raised her eyebrows, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “Blaze? Don’t tell me he’s a fireman. That would be too funny.”

  I shook my head. “He’s not a fireman, but he could be. He’s hot enough.”

  “Oh, no, you didn’t just go there,” Bailey said with a shake of her head.