Still, her interest was piqued, and she hadn’t been able to think of another solution since her dad’s will was read almost a year ago. That was never a good combination. Plus, her writer brain really wanted to know about what was in it for him.

“What’s your bet with your cousins?”

He let out a resigned sigh. “It’s to go out on six dates with the same woman who responds to the Bramble bio by Christmas and not fall in love with her.”

Too bad for the young pup sitting across from her, the years when that would have made her stop everything to pitch in and help were gone. She was a grown-ass woman. She didn’t play anymore.

“Yeah, no. I’m gonna have to turn down your unusual proposal. I’ll figure out another way. I have to.” She let out a weary sigh, because she really was too old for the kind of bullshittery that went with having a man in her life. “Sorry again for Sir Hiss and the dogs. Do you need me to call someone to give you a ride home?”

Chelle was turning toward the kitchen to put away her nursing supplies when Nash reached out, his hand stopping millimeters from hers and setting off every one of her oh-hey-there-we-liked-that-a-lot nerves that went straight to her clit.

Whatever.

So it had been all batteries all the time for too long. That didn’t mean she needed to change anything about how she was living her life. She was more than fine.

He pulled his hand back without actually touching her, flexing his fingers as he did so. “It really could work.”

She was about to tell him to forget it—again—when that little nugget of a question popped in her head. It was a “what if” that usually meant the perfect idea for a book, but this time it was all about real life and having an opportunity that very few women who’ve had to deal with a mansplainer ever get. A giddy thrill zoomed through her and had her clasping her hands together so she didn’t clap with excitement.

“Only if I can give you a mansplainer makeover,” she said, turning the very bad—and yet very, very good—idea around in her head.

It was the kind of idea that probably wouldn’t work out, but if it did…oh! If it did. It was as enticing as that late-night declaration from a friend that one more shot of tequila wouldn’t do any harm. So salut and cheers to the universe, because she was going to go for it even if this idea would leave her with a massive hangover and all the regrets.

“Agreed.” He nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”

One of her eyebrows shot upward, almost of its own free will, because there was no way he wasn’t full of shit. “That was a quick yes.”