Page 19 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“Isn’t that ironic? What’s a lady lock?”

“You’ve never had one? They’re one of my favorite cookies. They’re shaped like cannoli, but the outside is made of a light, flaky pastry, and they’re filled with sweet cream.”

Boy was I off base about him with a scone. “Great. I’ll take two, please.”

While she gets the cookies, I look at Arjun’s number and feel a rush of excitement. After paying, I bring our treats to the table and set one plate in front of Fletch. “You were holding out on me. You do have a type. It’s flaky on the outside, sweet and mushy on the inside.”

He looks perplexed. “How does my favorite cookie translate into what I want in a woman? If I wanted that, wouldn’t I be with someone like you?”

“Are you calling me flaky? Well, maybe I am a little flaky, but guess who has a potential new client!” I wave the paper and do a little happy dance.

“Where’d you get a new client?”

“Heaven hooked me up!” I do another happy dance.

“Then you’d better get your dancing butt into that chair so we can nail down these interview questions.”

“Now? You sure you have time? I don’t want to take up your whole Sunday.”

“It’s either this or I’ll worry you’ll get your notebooks mixed up and ask him about his feet.”

I laugh.

“Seriously, though. I don’t mind helping. My only plans are to take Molly for a walk later.”

“Thank you!” I lean down and hug him. “I’ll walk Molly, just like I said, every day for a month. Two months. And don’t tell me no. Unless you don’t want me in your house because you have something to hide.”

“What could I possibly be hiding?”

“That’s what I’m wondering. Are you a secret Dexter? Do you have a freezer full of body parts? Or women chained up in your basement? Or a creepy doll collection? Aw. Do you collect teddy bears? Now I have to know, and you’re not going to change my mind. I’m walking Molly. She loves me, and I have the time, and you’re being so helpful and nice, it’s only right.”

He shakes his head, but a laugh falls from his lips. “Will you take good care of her?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t let her get hurt or play too rough with other dogs?”

I plant a hand on my hip. “Of course not.”

He lets out a long breath. “Fine.”

I squeal and hug him again, catching him off guard. As his arms circle me, he says, “I guess we’re hugging again,” and I feel him tense up. I lean back, still holding on to him. Our eyes connect, and hold, causing a flutter in my chest, like a hummingbird taking flight. My pulse quickens, and the din of the café is drowned out by something warm and enticing pulsing between us. That startles me out of the moment. “I . . . Sorry. I’m a hugger.” I plunk down in my seat, scrambling for something to say. “I’ll walk Molly every afternoon.”

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy that.”

His brows are knitted, but he says it so casually, I don’t think he noticed my foray into Crazy Town.

“But no pressure. If you get busy and can’t make it, don’t sweat it.” He grabs his phone. “I’ll text you my address and leave a key under the mat, but don’t go snooping around my house.”

“I can’t make any promises,” I tease.

His eyes narrow.

“Fine. I won’t snoop.” I make a cross over my heart with my index finger.

“Good. Now back to business. I spoke to Chuck while you were getting the cookies. You can call him when we’re done. He said he’ll fit you in any day this week if you’d like, even before or after work.”

“Really? That’s amazing.” I can’t get over how much he’s doing to help me. “I’ll call him as soon as we’re done. I work until midmorning tomorrow, but then I’m free for the rest of the day.”