Page 24 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

“It’s a Delgado family trade,” I tell him, accepting the to-go container Brad passes me. He opens up his own before giving me an expectant look. “My dad and uncle co-owned the business before my dad passed. We never got on well, me and my dad. At least, not after he and my mom divorced. But…I always liked the idea of construction. Of working with my hands and building something from nothing. Always loved the smell of sawdust, too.It reminds me of my childhood, I guess. Or at least the good parts.”

Brad nods before saying, softly, “Delgado. That’s your last name?”

I nod, and he whispers it—“Joey Delgado”—like he’s testing the syllables on his tongue. I shouldn’t like that so much.

“And you?” I ask.

“Bradley,” he answers before taking another bite of his food.

I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth. I set it back down. “Your name…is Brad Bradley?”

His head bobs in a nod.

Oh, good Lord.

I have to ask… “And your middle name?”

“Ulysses,” he answers, easy as pie.

I take a slow breath. Expel it. Hold back my laugh. “Your full name is Brad Ulysses Bradley?”

“Sure is,” he says, shooting me a grin. “What’s your middle name?”

“Francis,” I tell him.

He hums. “I like Joey-roo better.”

Clearing my throat, I say, “You realize when you call me that, you’re basically calling me a baby kangaroo-roo?”

Brad pauses, considering that, before a smile splits his face. “Dude. That’s awesome.”

I huff a laugh and pick my fork up again. “Whatever you think, bub.”

His eyes widen to a ridiculous degree. “B-U-B. Bub. Holy crap! I never realized.” He lets out a small laugh, sounding so pleased my chest warms. “That’s pretty perfect, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I agree, trying not to think too hard about why the endearment felt so good to say. Nor why this right here feels like an infinitely better date than my brief meeting with Lewis, even though this isn’t a date at all.

No, I don’t linger on any of that. I enjoy my dinner beside Brad Ulysses Bradley, and when he asks me to tell him more about construction, it’s all too easy to let the hours while away.

Chapter 7

Brad

“On a scale from one to ten, how sexy is a ’stache? Seven? Eight?”

Jason looks up from his lunch slowly, blinking at me.

“No? Okay, is it more or less sexy than…” I check my notes. “A ‘dick guaranteed to rearrange your guts.’” I grimace. “Yikes. Do people like that?”

“Are you reading porn bios?” my friend asks. “Please,pleasesay yes.” After a second, he adds, “Although I’d have questions either way.”

“It’s not porn. I’m trying to find the perfect guy for Joey,” I explain patiently. I swear, sometimes it takes a minute for Jason to catch up.

“And Joey’s perfect guy either has a mustache or a mega-dick?” he questions.

“Ugh,” I groan. “You’re right. Neither is good enough. Guess I’m back to square one.”

Jason shovels a bite of salad into his mouth, the hospital cafeteria bustling around us. His nursing schedule can be a bit chaotic, so I’m lucky he had time for an actual lunch break with his bestie—aka me—today. I’m not too proud a wingman to accept help from an outside source.

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