Page 11 of Marrying the Guide

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Page 11 of Marrying the Guide

I laughed. “You always told me you were too much for me to handle. Something about you being a power bottom and me being too bossy?”

He sighed dramatically. “Yeah, I do admit we would’ve had compatibility issues.”

“Now that we’ve settled that, can we focus on my problem? I need you to tell me what to do for a first date with a guy. And maybe what to wear.”

“The latter is easy. Wear a white button-down shirt that’s just a little tight. It’ll show off your gorgeous body with all those big muscles. Pair it with nice jeans or, if you wanna go dressier, a pair of slacks, and you’re good.”

Okay, that was easy enough. “And what can we do? I asked him out, and I want to do something original. Something special.”

“Tell me about him.”

“His name is Onno, and he’s from the Netherlands.”

Five minutes later, I stopped talking.

“And you’ve only met him twice?” Bubbles asked.

“Yeah, and we FaceTimed once.”

“Howie, my friend, you’ve got it bad. But I have an idea.”

He wasn’t wrong, and his suggestion was gold.

Onno had needed a little time to recover from the hike, so we’d agreed to meet three days later. Dressed according to Bubbles’s instructions, I wore jeans and a tight white button-down. Considering what we were going to do, I’d probably have to chuck the shirt afterward, but it would be worth it.

Onno was waiting for me outside the bakery. When he spotted me, he took me in thoroughly. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. I love your shirt. It makes your eyes pop.”

When I’d shared my suspicion that Onno had low self-esteem, Bubbles had told me to be liberal with the compliments.

Onno’s face lit up. “Thank you. I borrowed it from my brother. We’re the same size, and I didn’t bring that many clothes with me.”

“I can imagine. Are you ready to go?”

“Where are we going?”

I gestured at my truck, parked on the other side of Main Street. “To a little town called Berne. It’s about a fifteen-minute drive.”

“Do I need to bring anything? You didn’t tell me what we’d be doing.”

“Nope, you’re fine. And I’ll explain on the way there.”

I held out my hand, and he took it, his cheeks growing adorably red. “I still can’t get over how big the cars are here,” he said as we walked to my pickup. “We don’t have these back home.”

“No? Why not?”

“They wouldn’t even fit in most parking spaces or garages. The Netherlands is a tiny country that’s densely populated, so everything is small. Houses, gardens, roads, parking garages—everything is a hell of a lot smaller than here. Plus, gas is much more expensive. I can’t imagine this is a very economical car.”

I chuckled and held the passenger door open for him. “Oh, it’s not.”

He awkwardly climbed into the cab, but that wasn’t strange if he’d never been in a truck. I closed the door after him and got in myself. “I got this truck because I often have to haul equipment to the outdoor activities I participate in. Backpacks, tents, coolers, you name it. I can throw it all in the bed. I even have a rack that fits two kayaks.”

“That makes sense. So, what are we going to do?”

God, I hoped I’d gotten it right. “Well, you told me you were trying to do all kinds of things you’d never done, like kayaking and hiking, so I figured I’d continue that theme. No worries, it’s not something physical.”

He laughed sheepishly. “Thank you. I was about to get worried I would embarrass myself again.”




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