Free The Dating Intervention: Book 1 in the Intervention Series by Hilary Dartt

behind him, then Luke, with a sword in each hand. Finally, Summer walked in, holding hands with a toddling Hannah.  
    “We’re all hungry, Aunt D,” Nate said. “Mom says your cooking had better be good, because she doesn’t want to take us out to eat after this.”
    “Nate!” Sarah said. “You weren’t supposed to tell her!”  
    “Yeah, jerk,” Luke said. “You’re supposed to say it’s delicious, no matter what. Remember?”  
    Summer shrugged apologetically at Delaney.  
    Great. Everybody’s expecting this to be terrible.  
    Fortunately, she didn’t disappoint. The chicken was mushy, as she’d anticipated when she took it out of the oven. The asparagus was overdone, limp and squishy and falling apart in strings. The potatoes were lumpy and bland.  
    “Aunt Dee, is this your first time cooking, like, ever?” Sarah wanted to know.  
    “It’s my first time in a long time. I wanted to show your mom and Aunt J that I can cook. It’s not great, but it’s edible, right?”
    “I hear crickets chirping,” Nate said.  
    “Summer? Josie? What do you guys think?”  
    “Well …” Summer said slowly. “Josie?”  
    “ Ay , Summer. It’s bad, Dee. I mean, yes, it’s edible. But it’s bad. If I was at a restaurant I’d send it back. Sorry.”  
    Delaney grimaced. “So I need those cooking lessons, huh?”  
    “Yes,” chorused her guests. “You do.”
    “All right, all right. Sign me up.”  
    Because Delaney cooked and Josie had to get home to her cheesy TV and more paper-grading, Summer volunteered to do dishes if Delaney would sword fight with the boys and watch Hannah.
    They’d all eaten it, Delaney thought as she used her broom to ward off the sword-wielding boys, but she’d barely been able to choke it down herself. Before tonight, she’d expected to feel triumphant when everyone finished eating. Now, she just felt embarrassed.
    Summer and Josie were right. Just like the rest of her life, her cooking skills needed a serious boost.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    “A rum and Coke,” the business exec told Delaney as he slid up to the bar. “Actually, might as well make it two.”
    He’d walked into Rowdy’s a few minutes before, wearing dejection like a wet sock, uncomfortable and sticky. Tie untied and dangling limply, collar unbuttoned, head down, he tucked his long legs into the space between his stool and the bar. Delaney’s intuition cringed and brought Jake Rhoades to the forefront of her mind. She wondered what he was up to tonight. Was he relaxing on his couch with a Rolling Rock? Or playing pool over at Fast Jack’s?
    She dropped a couple of ice cubes into a short glass and poured Mister “Make it Two” his first rum and Coke. Messy hair, a stain on his shirt and elbows on the bar: she pegged him not only as a man who’d been wronged, but also as an all-nighter.  
    “He’s so your type, Delaney,” Ivy whispered conspiratorially, wiggling her eyebrows. “He’s going to hit on you. Wait and see.”  
    That is my type?  
    “You think so?” Delaney said.  
    “Oh, yeah. Turn on that Big Delaney Charm, and he’s going to turn into a quivering puddle of desire.”  
    “Or a quivering puddle of rum and Coke. He asked me to pour him two at once and he just finished his second.”
    Because Delaney had a certain amount of introspection, she was willing to admit it took quite a bit of effort to keep her voice neutral as she kept Mister “Make it Two” saturated with rum and Coke all night. Big Delaney Charm came naturally, after all, and it plowed down intuition like it was a dry cornstalk in mid-winter. By the time midnight ticked by, she lost count of the number of times she had to stop herself from making a witty, clever, or otherwise flirtatious comment to a man who really was turning into a puddle before her eyes.  

    ***
    “She’s eyeing that floppy-haired, pinstriped, red-eyed slob,” Summer murmured to Josie.
    The two of them sat in the back corner of