Four Last First Dates by Kate O'Keeffe
Series: Cozy Cottage Café #4
Published by Wild Lime Books on August 9, 2018
Genres: Romantic Comedy
What do you do when you’ve agreed to a pact with your friends to get married, but neither you nor the guy in your sights is quite ready to fall in love? Bailey De Luca is the last of her friends to complete the Last First Date pact—to marry the next guy she dates. But lady luck must be in a bad mood, because so far, it's all come to nothing. Everywhere she looks people are in love. Everyone except her. Is she fundamentally unlovable? Or is it that she’s already found—and lost—The One? Whatever the reason, one thing's for sure: Bailey never expected to be alone at thirty. When one of her friends announces her engagement with a rock that could eclipse the sun, Bailey throws herself into a new business. Starting up Cozy Cottage Catering seems like the perfect way to bury her head in the sand. But fate has other ideas, and soon Bailey is swept off her feet by the oh-so cute Ryan Jones. Ryan may seem like the perfect combination of Prince Charming meets Thor (without the hammer), but is Bailey ready to be with him? Or will the ghost of her past love prevent her from finding happiness again? Escape to New Zealand in this fun, feel-good sweet romance. Books in the Cozy Cottage Café series: Book 1: One Last First Date Book 2: Two Last First Dates Book 3: Three Last First Dates Book 4: Four Last First Dates
The next “speed date” was so nondescript and dull, not even my list of probing and unusual
questions helped. And I wasn’t here for nondescript and dull. I was here to find “The One.”
Well, that was the plan at least.
As I sat half listening to Nondescript Guy carry on about how important his health was
and how he liked to have granola each morning to keep himself “regular”—talking about
bowel movements on a date? Really?—I did my best to stifle a yawn.
I scanned the room. I could see Fake Jamie-slash-Fabio chatting up some new victim,
and Adam talking with Perky Blonde at the adjacent table. Marissa waved at me from the bar,
catching my eye. She shrugged, her palms face up as she nodded at my current “date.”
I gave my head one shake to indicate Nondescript Guy was a non-starter, and she
scrunched her face up.
I stole another glance at Ryan. He and Paige were deep in conversation, and he didn’t
look my way.
“. . . and you see, that’s why the flora of your gut is so important,” Nondescript Guy
said, an earnest look on his face. “Not a lot of people know that, but it’s vital for good
health.”
“Absolutely,” I replied, having no clue what he was talking about. Wasn’t flora a word
scientists used for plants? I thought remembered it vaguely from high school biology.
“I’m glad you understand. That’s important to me, to have a partner on the same health
journey as me.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. A “health journey” didn’t exactly sound like
something I could get on board with. You see, I had a bit of a cake habit. Baking, eating, the
lot. And I had a great excuse—my café was known for its cakes. We always had a variety to
suit most tastes, even offering a couple of gluten-free options lately, too.
Although I’m not sure Nondescript Guy and his “health journey” would approve of
even those.
Fortunately, the bell sounded, so I didn’t have to pass comment. Instead, I smiled and
said, “Nice to meet you.”
He got up and moved on to Perky Blonde. I heaved a sigh of relief.
“Hello.”
I looked up to see a small, bespectacled man standing by my table. He was dressed in a
button-down shirt and khaki pants. He looked more than a little nervous.
“Hi,” I said brightly, trying to put him at ease. Although he didn’t look like they type of
guy I’d dated in the past, I knew I needed to keep an open mind. “Please, take a seat.”
questions helped. And I wasn’t here for nondescript and dull. I was here to find “The One.”
Well, that was the plan at least.
As I sat half listening to Nondescript Guy carry on about how important his health was
and how he liked to have granola each morning to keep himself “regular”—talking about
bowel movements on a date? Really?—I did my best to stifle a yawn.
I scanned the room. I could see Fake Jamie-slash-Fabio chatting up some new victim,
and Adam talking with Perky Blonde at the adjacent table. Marissa waved at me from the bar,
catching my eye. She shrugged, her palms face up as she nodded at my current “date.”
I gave my head one shake to indicate Nondescript Guy was a non-starter, and she
scrunched her face up.
I stole another glance at Ryan. He and Paige were deep in conversation, and he didn’t
look my way.
“. . . and you see, that’s why the flora of your gut is so important,” Nondescript Guy
said, an earnest look on his face. “Not a lot of people know that, but it’s vital for good
health.”
“Absolutely,” I replied, having no clue what he was talking about. Wasn’t flora a word
scientists used for plants? I thought remembered it vaguely from high school biology.
“I’m glad you understand. That’s important to me, to have a partner on the same health
journey as me.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. A “health journey” didn’t exactly sound like
something I could get on board with. You see, I had a bit of a cake habit. Baking, eating, the
lot. And I had a great excuse—my café was known for its cakes. We always had a variety to
suit most tastes, even offering a couple of gluten-free options lately, too.
Although I’m not sure Nondescript Guy and his “health journey” would approve of
even those.
Fortunately, the bell sounded, so I didn’t have to pass comment. Instead, I smiled and
said, “Nice to meet you.”
He got up and moved on to Perky Blonde. I heaved a sigh of relief.
“Hello.”
I looked up to see a small, bespectacled man standing by my table. He was dressed in a
button-down shirt and khaki pants. He looked more than a little nervous.
“Hi,” I said brightly, trying to put him at ease. Although he didn’t look like they type of
guy I’d dated in the past, I knew I needed to keep an open mind. “Please, take a seat.”
“Oh, I err . . . okay.” He pulled a pad and pencil out from his back pocket and sat down
opposite me.
I glanced at his name tag. “Your name is Reg? Is that short for Reginald?”
He nodded. “Lieutenant Reginald Barclay the third, actually.”
Lieutenant? Very formal. He didn’t look much like a military man, with his slim frame
and lack of stature. But who was I to judge?
“Nice,” I said with a smile, trying not to let on what I was thinking.
“It’s not ‘nice.’” He scowled at me as though I’d insulted him. “Lieutenant Reginald
Barclay is the most underrated member of the Starship Enterprise.”
The what now?
“Oh.” Not for the first time tonight, I didn’t know quite what to say.
“It’s all Captain Kirk and Spock, the superstars of the series.”
“This is a Star Wars thing?”
“Star Wars?” he spat, his features forming a disapproving scowl.
You’d think I’d insulted his mother.
“Star Trek.” He shook his head, his lips forming a thin line. “Reginald is a crew
member of the Starship Enterprise.”
“Gotcha.” I didn’t at all.
“He needs his time in the spotlight, too, you know. He was a technical genius, not one
of those ‘look at me, I’m an alpha male’ types.” He glared at me as though I was personally
responsible for this Reginald Whatshisname’s lack of superstar status. “Beta males are just as
important for the procreation of the species.”
I cleared my throat. Is this guy for real?
I glanced down at his notepad, landing on a way to move the conversation on. “You’ve
come prepared.”
“Yes, I . . . have some key questions I’m looking for answers to.”
“Okay,” I replied, steeling myself for what was to come.
He flipped the notepad open and studied his notes.
I waited and waited.
And waited.
I shot my friends a desperate look I hoped they could read. It went something like “get
me the heck out of here!”
“Ah, excuse me, Reg?”
opposite me.
I glanced at his name tag. “Your name is Reg? Is that short for Reginald?”
He nodded. “Lieutenant Reginald Barclay the third, actually.”
Lieutenant? Very formal. He didn’t look much like a military man, with his slim frame
and lack of stature. But who was I to judge?
“Nice,” I said with a smile, trying not to let on what I was thinking.
“It’s not ‘nice.’” He scowled at me as though I’d insulted him. “Lieutenant Reginald
Barclay is the most underrated member of the Starship Enterprise.”
The what now?
“Oh.” Not for the first time tonight, I didn’t know quite what to say.
“It’s all Captain Kirk and Spock, the superstars of the series.”
“This is a Star Wars thing?”
“Star Wars?” he spat, his features forming a disapproving scowl.
You’d think I’d insulted his mother.
“Star Trek.” He shook his head, his lips forming a thin line. “Reginald is a crew
member of the Starship Enterprise.”
“Gotcha.” I didn’t at all.
“He needs his time in the spotlight, too, you know. He was a technical genius, not one
of those ‘look at me, I’m an alpha male’ types.” He glared at me as though I was personally
responsible for this Reginald Whatshisname’s lack of superstar status. “Beta males are just as
important for the procreation of the species.”
I cleared my throat. Is this guy for real?
I glanced down at his notepad, landing on a way to move the conversation on. “You’ve
come prepared.”
“Yes, I . . . have some key questions I’m looking for answers to.”
“Okay,” I replied, steeling myself for what was to come.
He flipped the notepad open and studied his notes.
I waited and waited.
And waited.
I shot my friends a desperate look I hoped they could read. It went something like “get
me the heck out of here!”
“Ah, excuse me, Reg?”
He looked up at me as though I were some sort of irritation to him. “What?”
“We only have four minutes together. You know that, right?”
“Yes, yes.” He waved his hand in the air at me.
I knitted my eyebrows together. This was feeling less like a date and more like a visit to
the school principal.
“Aha!” he exclaimed, making me jump.
“You’ve found your question?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Great.”
“What is your bust measurement?”
My mouth dropped open. “My bust measurement?”
“Yes.” His tone was matter-of-fact tone. “Your bust measurement, otherwise known as
the circumference of your . . .err chestal area.” He made a circular motion in the air with his
hands.
I crossed my arms on the table in front of my “bust.” I cleared my throat. “Why do you
want to know that?”
“Because I assessed you as you arrived, and you have the proportions I am most
invested in.”
What? Invested? Proportions? What was this guy, a freaking mad scientist? Or, worse
yet, a serial killer?
“Invested in for a date?” I asked, really not wanting to know the answer.
“Of course!” he replied a little too loudly. “Why else would I be here? There isn’t any
other explanation. I’m here for the dating. I want to meet someone to date.”
I wasn’t buying it. I glanced down at his notepad. There were numbers scrawled over
the page. I let out a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re doing
some research or something?”
He pursed his lips and glared at me. “Who said that?” His eyes darted around the room
in accusation.
I shifted in my seat. “Ah, me?”
He let out a puff of air. “I’m here for the dating, and as part of that, I would like to
know what your bust measurements is, thank you.”
To my astonishment, he half-stood and reached into his front pocket, pulling a blue
plastic measuring tape out in a long coil.
“We only have four minutes together. You know that, right?”
“Yes, yes.” He waved his hand in the air at me.
I knitted my eyebrows together. This was feeling less like a date and more like a visit to
the school principal.
“Aha!” he exclaimed, making me jump.
“You’ve found your question?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Great.”
“What is your bust measurement?”
My mouth dropped open. “My bust measurement?”
“Yes.” His tone was matter-of-fact tone. “Your bust measurement, otherwise known as
the circumference of your . . .err chestal area.” He made a circular motion in the air with his
hands.
I crossed my arms on the table in front of my “bust.” I cleared my throat. “Why do you
want to know that?”
“Because I assessed you as you arrived, and you have the proportions I am most
invested in.”
What? Invested? Proportions? What was this guy, a freaking mad scientist? Or, worse
yet, a serial killer?
“Invested in for a date?” I asked, really not wanting to know the answer.
“Of course!” he replied a little too loudly. “Why else would I be here? There isn’t any
other explanation. I’m here for the dating. I want to meet someone to date.”
I wasn’t buying it. I glanced down at his notepad. There were numbers scrawled over
the page. I let out a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re doing
some research or something?”
He pursed his lips and glared at me. “Who said that?” His eyes darted around the room
in accusation.
I shifted in my seat. “Ah, me?”
He let out a puff of air. “I’m here for the dating, and as part of that, I would like to
know what your bust measurements is, thank you.”
To my astonishment, he half-stood and reached into his front pocket, pulling a blue
plastic measuring tape out in a long coil.
“You’re serious?” I guffawed. I shot a nervous look over at my friends. They all had
incredulous looks on their faces, watching the bizarre speed date with “Reg”—allegedly the
most underrated of the Starship Enterprise crew—unfold before their eyes.
“I thought I’d made that clear already. Do you have an objection?”
I crossed my arms. “Actually, I do.”
His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up his face with his index
finger. “Well, in that case, I will need to hug you.”
“Hug me?”
This was getting more and more perverse.
“Yes. That way I can assess you, since my measuring tape appears to be so abhorrent to
you.” His tone suggested I was slow on the uptake and he needed to explain things more
clearly. “It won’t be as accurate, of course, but if you won’t provide me with your consent, I
shall have no choice.”
That was it. I’d had enough. I placed my hands palm-down on the table. “Look,
Reg—or whatever your actual name is. I’m not interested in being assessed or measured or
anything. So, can you please refrain from asking me again?”
He slumped in his chair. “But you’re the best one.”
“The best one for what?”
Why oh why did I have to ask?
He let out a puff of air. “I’m designing something, even if Father thinks it’s a ‘waste of
my education.’” He did air quotes, his face contorted in bitterness.
“What are you designing?”
My mouth was clearly disconnected from my brain at this point.
“The perfect woman, only robotic so she won’t have any of the challenges of a real
woman.”
Oh, no.
“She’s going to be incredible. Beautiful, loving, flexible, do whatever you want . . .”
I held my hands up. “Stop!” I’d heard more than enough. I slid out of my chair and
stood up.
Reginald Barclay III looked up at me in surprise. As I stepped around the table, he also
stood and attempted to swing his measuring tape around me.
I grabbed a hold of one end of it and snapped it away from him. “You have got to be
kidding me.” I smacked the tape down on the table, turned and walked away, just as the bell
sounded for the next round of “dates.”
But there would be no more “dates” for me. I’d had more than enough Jamie wannabes
and sicko mad scientist guys to last me a lifetime. I was done.
incredulous looks on their faces, watching the bizarre speed date with “Reg”—allegedly the
most underrated of the Starship Enterprise crew—unfold before their eyes.
“I thought I’d made that clear already. Do you have an objection?”
I crossed my arms. “Actually, I do.”
His glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up his face with his index
finger. “Well, in that case, I will need to hug you.”
“Hug me?”
This was getting more and more perverse.
“Yes. That way I can assess you, since my measuring tape appears to be so abhorrent to
you.” His tone suggested I was slow on the uptake and he needed to explain things more
clearly. “It won’t be as accurate, of course, but if you won’t provide me with your consent, I
shall have no choice.”
That was it. I’d had enough. I placed my hands palm-down on the table. “Look,
Reg—or whatever your actual name is. I’m not interested in being assessed or measured or
anything. So, can you please refrain from asking me again?”
He slumped in his chair. “But you’re the best one.”
“The best one for what?”
Why oh why did I have to ask?
He let out a puff of air. “I’m designing something, even if Father thinks it’s a ‘waste of
my education.’” He did air quotes, his face contorted in bitterness.
“What are you designing?”
My mouth was clearly disconnected from my brain at this point.
“The perfect woman, only robotic so she won’t have any of the challenges of a real
woman.”
Oh, no.
“She’s going to be incredible. Beautiful, loving, flexible, do whatever you want . . .”
I held my hands up. “Stop!” I’d heard more than enough. I slid out of my chair and
stood up.
Reginald Barclay III looked up at me in surprise. As I stepped around the table, he also
stood and attempted to swing his measuring tape around me.
I grabbed a hold of one end of it and snapped it away from him. “You have got to be
kidding me.” I smacked the tape down on the table, turned and walked away, just as the bell
sounded for the next round of “dates.”
But there would be no more “dates” for me. I’d had more than enough Jamie wannabes
and sicko mad scientist guys to last me a lifetime. I was done.
Bailey runs the Cozy Cottage Cafe that all her friends drink coffee and eat cakes at. It is a place where the four ladies get together and discuss their careers, and men of course! When it comes to love Bailey knows that she promised her friends to give the last first date idea a chance, that's why she's doing the most horrible speed dating night of her life. However, Bailey's already had the love of her life in Dan her fiancé, who died almost 3 years ago today. She simply cannot imagine giving her heart to anybody else.
These books are the perfect feel good romance to curl up with. I devoured it, with in hours. I would highly recommend it to all of you!
About Kate O’Keeffe
Kate O’Keeffe is a bestselling author of fun, feel-good romantic comedies. She lives and loves in beautiful Hawke’s Bay, New Zealand with her family, two scruffy dogs, and a cat who thinks he’s a scruffy dog too. He’s not: he’s a cat. When she’s not penning her latest story, Kate can be found hiking up hills (slowly), travelling to different countries, and eating chocolate. A lot of it.
Kate has written the Amazon bestsellers the Cozy Cottage Café series, the popular chick lit stories, the Wellywood Romantic Comedy series, as well as some standalone titles.
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