The all new standalone in the Dating series by New York Times Bestselling author Monica Murphy is LIVE!
Eleanor Murray is tired.
Tired of going on awkward dates. Tired of meeting men who just aren’t that into her. Tired of being set up on blind dates by her well-meaning friends.
She is a believer of true love, of finding that happily ever after, and she wants it. She deserves it. But at the rate she’s going, she’s pretty sure it’s never going to happen.
Until a friend creates a profile for Eleanor on a new dating app. At first, she’s reluctant. Dating apps aren’t the way to finding true love, are they? But then she makes a connection on Rate a Date, and this gorgeous, confident guy almost seems too good to be true…
Mitch Anderson has a secret.
He’s just moved to Las Vegas for his high profile job and after years of playing the field, he’s looking for a serious relationship. He wants to find a woman who likes him for who he is, not what he does. Meeting Eleanor on the dating app, he’s intrigued. Meeting her in real life while she’s in town for a bachelorette weekend, he completely falls for her. Now he’s in way over his head.
Their chemistry is combustible. They can’t keep their hands off each other. But will Eleanor forgive him when she finds out who he really is?
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Excerpt:
“You’re just saying that.”
“Not really,” I tell her truthfully. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Mitch.” She draws my name out, like she’s all embarrassed. “You really think so?”
“Oh, I know so.” I lean back, taking her in. “I can’t wait to meet you in person this weekend.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not some secret serial killer, are you?” She asks this with such seriousness, I start to laugh all over again.
“Even if I was, do you think I’d tell you?” I grin, unable to contain it. “I’d keep it a secret, right?”
“True.” She smiles. Laughs a little. “It’s just…my friends don’t want me to meet you by myself. They want to come with me.”
“Swear to God, I’m not a serial killer, Eleanor,” I say solemnly, holding my hand up and making the peace sign. “Scout’s honor.”
“That’s not what you do when you say scout’s honor,” she says quickly. Little Miss Smartypants. “You do your fingers like this.” She holds up her hand, the first three fingers up and pressed close together.
“How do you know that? Were you a secret Boy Scout? Have a brother who was one?”
“I, um, dated a guy who was an Eagle Scout.” Her expression turns sheepish. “He was really into the Boy Scouts.”
“Was that in high school?”
“Uh. No. College.”
I’m frowning. “College?”
“Well, he got his Eagle Scout status his senior year, but was still involved with the scouts through college. And—beyond.” She presses her hand against her forehead and briefly closes her eyes. “Fine, I went out with him after he graduated college. I never really went to college. I went to beauty school.” She drops her hand, sending me a meaningful look.
“So you went out with a guy who was still excited about being an Eagle Scout…and he was a grown man.” I start to laugh. “Sounds fun.”
“I’ve not had the greatest luck when it comes to dating guys,” she admits.
“Oh yeah?” I’m rubbing my chin again, contemplating her. Wondering what the hell is wrong with all the men in her life that they don’t know how to treat her.
And then I realize how lucky I am that they all blew it so now I have my chance.
“Yeah. I’m just—I don’t pick well. And I always get really awkward around guys.” She rolls her eyes. “I can say really dumb things. Or I just act all nervous and weird. I start to ramble.”
“Like now?”
“Yes.” She laughs. “Like now. I’m rambling. I’m totally rambling and you don’t look bored, so I take that as a good sign.”
“I think the rambling thing is cute. I like your awkwardness.”
“Wait until you see it in person.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person,” I tell her with a sly smile, making her blush. “I can’t wait to give you a hug. See what you smell like.”
“Mitch.” Her cheeks look on fire.
“What? I’m serious. You wear perfume?”
“Of course.”
“Use scented shampoo?”
“Duh. I’m a hairstylist.”
“Then I can’t wait to see how all those scents mix and create the essence of you.” Oooh, that was a good one. I didn’t even mean to say that. It just spilled out of my mouth.
“Aw, you’re being so sweet.” She sends me a heated glance. “Kind of sexy.”
“You think me talking about how you smell is sexy?”
“Honestly, Mitch? I think everything about you is sexy,” she says with a little sigh, right before she claps her hand over her mouth. “I probably shouldn’t have said that.” Her voice is muffled behind her palm.
“I love that you said that,” I say, warming up to this conversation big time. “I think you’re pretty fucking sexy too, Eleanor.” Hesitating, I wonder if I should tell her what I did in the shower.
Maybe not.
“Have you ever sexted with someone before?” she asks, sounding genuinely curious.
“I guess.” I shrug, not really wanting to answer her. Makes me feel like a slimy shit to admit that yes, I have. Lots of times. “Sort of. I’ve made plenty of booty call messages. DTF, stuff like that.”
She frowns. “DTF?”
“Down to fuck.”
“Oh.” Her eyes are wide. Her mouth is formed in this perfect O. “Oh.”
“Back when I wasn’t big on relationships,” I add. “But I’ve changed.”
“You have?”
“Yeah. I’m looking for a special girl.”
“Really?”
“I want a long-term relationship.”
“It’s too bad you’re moving,” she says, sounding sad.
I don’t want to focus on that right now. I don’t even know if this girl is the one. She has great potential. But we need to meet in person first. Test it out.
“We’ll see each other this weekend,” I remind her.
“I know!” Her face brightens. “And I’m excited.”
“So am I, Eleanor.”
So am I.
Meet Monica:
Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is both self-published and published by Random House/Bantam and HarperCollins/Avon. She writes new adult, young adult, and contemporary romance.
She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she’s not writing, she’s reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She’s a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.
Connect with Monica:
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