Three Blind Dates (Dating by Numbers, #1)

by Meghan Quinn

It’s the people in our life who mold us, and I’m far from being molded completely.”

“Type-A personalities can be very attractive.” So can brown hair and brown eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome, just the way I like them. Well, I don’t know if he’s handsome, but I’m going to assume he is.

“You’re going on a date?” “Why not?” I shrug. “I told myself I’d give every date a chance.

“You’re really doing this?” “I am. I think this could be it for me.” I’d be a fool to not at least give it a try.

My nerves ratchet up all kinds of embarrassing reactions caused by the gorgeous man in front of me. I can feel it, there’s no denying it, especially by the way I’m tongue-tied, unable to say anything . . . I’m awkward.

Dimples, the kryptonite for every woman.

God, he’s funny and so easygoing.

This guy is too cute.

I’m lucky I get to do something I love, but it also comes with a lot of hard work, long days, and full schedules.”

Why is he so secretive? Is he hiding something? Should I be concerned?

The strong and powerful yet kind and funny man standing next to me is holding my hand without a second thought, as if he’s been meant to hold my hand his entire life.

Almost every weekend in the summer we were out on the beach. It’s where I grew up, and honestly, it’s where my heart is—within the wake of the tumultuous waves.

They were all about dating each other, even when they were married.” “That’s sweet.” He nods. “They are a beautiful example of true love.”

You’re smart, beautiful, and have a great job, so there had to be some wisdom behind your years.

I have to see him again, no doubt in my mind. There is something special about him, something I haven’t seen in another man before, something I don’t want to let go.

I take it your grandpa has passed.” Nodding, Jack takes a deep breath. “When I was a junior in high school. It really messed with my head. He was my best friend, and it about destroyed me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about him. I just hope one day I’ll be able to retell his stories to my kids while they listen to the waves crash, or at least attempt to.”

I always think making friends as an adult is hard, but finding someone to spend the rest of your life with, now that’s the ultimate challenge. There’s so much vulnerability. You have to be strong and confident, but when that’s not your personality, when you embarrass easily, it almost feels like torture, trying to communicate with another adult about your feelings.

“There’s no way in hell I would be able to say goodbye to you forever tonight. I not only want to see you again, but I need to see you again.”

Good God, that man is dangerous. Dangerous for all the right reasons.

The anticipation of waiting for that special person to connect with you again. In an age where instant gratification is the norm, it’s a beautiful thing to have to wait for a little mailbox to light up.

Maybe if you actually kissed me last night, you wouldn’t have to daydream about what my lips taste like. My suggestion: next time you see me, kiss me.

“There’s a million rules we have to follow to not look like some kind of stalker. Like don’t text too soon, don’t respond right away, don’t tell the person how you feel. Hell, who came up with all these misconceptions of dating?”

It’s like people don’t want to look too desperate, they want to play it cool. But who cares? If you like someone, then you like them. Let it be known, right?”

“Let’s make a deal, right here. By the end of the night, if we think this could go somewhere, if we enjoyed our time together, we let it be known. None of this running around the rules bullshit.”

“You know”—Beck runs his hand along his jaw—“I like your passion. There aren’t many people out there who would end a blind date and erase it from their memory from the possibility of disagreeing over a movie.”

Top five romcoms, that tells a lot about a man.

Being single is fun . . . for a little bit. But I’ve realized that there comes a time in a person’s life when they just want to be able to have a partner in crime, someone you come home to every night, and wake up with every morning. Someone who cheers during your triumphs and carries you when you fall.

But what I really want, what I truly, desperately want is romance. I want to hold my husband’s hand in a movie or when we walk to the store. I want to yell at him one minute over something stupid, then be making passionate love the next, simply because we can’t stay mad at each other. I want to be cherished, for someone to call me his own. And I want to give myself to that someone for as long as we both shall live. I want to be in love.

I might be a tease with no follow-through. At least that’s what it’s feeling like right now. But is that really who I am or have I been burnt before, enough to not trust that I’m the girl who gets to keep the guy?

It’s been so long since a man has brought me such ecstasy.

“I usually have more of an emotional connection with men before I jump into bed with them.”

I know dating isn’t something I’m very experienced at, but we seem to be very physical with each other.” And it’s great, but I think I should be expecting more. I know I want more, but is that realistic?

He shakes his head, and I realize right then and there, no matter how much I push, how much I question him, Beck isn’t going to talk because he’s not mentally ready. If there is one thing I know well, you can’t force anyone to talk if they don’t want to.

It’s about making a connection on another level, and I don’t think you’re mentally ready for that. You need to clear out the tainted headspace you’re hanging on to.”

“You want more.” So much. “I want it all. The marriage, the husband, the children. I’m already there, looking for it, but I think you’re just coming out of the fog you were in.”

“You’re amazing, Sassy, you know that, right?” “I do now.”

“It just didn’t work out. We’re on different wavelengths right now. But it’s okay. We ended things on a wonderful note, and I’m sure I’ll see him again. Even if it’s just as a friend. No doubt in my mind.”

I know the right man for me is out there and honestly, Going in Blind has brought me closer to happiness than I’ve experienced in a long time.”

“He was very closed off. He wouldn’t talk about anything that delved too deep into who he was or his past.”

I want to find someone I can spend the rest of my life with, someone who wants kids—a family—who can understand my work schedule but also demand some attention himself.

“Honestly, he seems to have some demons. I hope he’s trying to work through those, because until he does, he can’t move forward, not just with me, but in life.”

I’ve had so much in common with both guys in different ways, but the timing has just been . . . off.” “Is that what you’re calling it? Timing? Couldn’t it be that the men you keep being matched with have some kind of underlying issue?” “Not issue, just . . . you know . . .” I trail off, not sure how to put my thoughts into words. “An issue. That’s what it’s been and don’t deny it. Jack seemed like the perfect catch. I was even rooting for him, but one little mention of his name on national television and he scurried away.

I’ve never been a sex for the hell of it kind of girl. There has always been emotion involved with my sexual encounters, and I wonder if going all the way would have left me feeling empty rather than fulfilled.

I want more than sex.”

I hate being lonely, especially with our grueling schedule. You get to go home to Chad and your kids and have people love on you and hold you and take care of you. You have a partnership, an ever-lasting friendship, someone to hold your hand when you’re nervous or scared, or want to be cuddled.” Taking a long pull from my straw, I swallow. “I don’t want to be single. I’ve never enjoyed it; I don’t have that type of personality in my blood. So, yes, I’ll go back. I will look for another date, and who knows, third time might be the charm.”

Squinting, afraid there will be no matches, I carefully open the app and pray to the dating gods that there is someone else out there for me. Dramatic, I know. But I’m feeling pretty low after the first two dates. “You have a match.” Thank you, dating gods.

Note to self. Whiskey equals truth serum.

I bop his nose, hating my inability to stop my hands from doing stupid things.

There are underlying emotions he’s not trying to show, that he’s hiding away from me and thanks to the whiskey, I can’t quite pinpoint them.

“Besides the fact that I’ve had horrible luck attempting to pick out men for myself, I wanted to try something new. I was in a rut. I wanted to meet someone who was equally interested in starting a relationship, with the aim of marriage. I don’t want to just hookup, I want something real, something palpable with meaning.”