She reached out and gave his upper arm a squeeze, the simple touch making him lose his words. Her hazel eyes were beseeching. “Come on, Ash. I know it’ll feel weird at first, but holing yourself up in that apartment isn’t good for you. Plus, don’t be such a snob, fancy writer boy. Hang out with us backwoods bumpkins.”

She’d amped up her already strong accent to damn near unintelligible with the affected twang. He couldn’t help but smile. “You’re going to goad me into going?”

She gave him a pointed look. “If that’s what it takes. I’m a wee bit relentless.”

“You don’t say.”

“Look, you’ve just been cheated on. You’re in writer’s block. You had to leave New York. Being Broody McBroody Pants helps none of that. To change your situation, change what you’re doing. And if nothing else, have a damn drink and eat some cheese fries. That makes everything better.”

“The prescription from Dr. Breslin. Liquor and cheese fries.”

“Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it. Play nice, and I’ll even throw some wings into the deal.” She waggled her eyebrows.

He sighed. “You’re not going to let me say no.”

“Nope,” she said happily and patted his shoulder. “Now go and get showered because you look disgusting and smell like stale books. I’ll swing by and pick you up in an hour.”

He shook his head, too tired to argue. “Why are you doing this? The only thing you agreed to was getting along while we worked here. You don’t have to bring me into the rest of your world.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “But you have a bit of my kryptonite going, I’m afraid. And I can’t stand by and ignore it.”

“Your kryptonite?”

She nodded. “Yep. A broken heart in need.”

“I’m not in need.”

“Yes, you are. You’re in need of cheese fries. Wings. And possibly a one-night stand to cleanse that been-cheated-on fog,” she declared.

He blinked, a record scratch sounding in his head. “What?”

She patted his chest. “But we’ll worry about that one later. First, freshen up. Next, fries. Then…”

He stared at her, almost expecting her to list a third f-word after the other two.

“Oh, don’t look so scandalized,” she said with a laugh, “like I’m offering to provide a hooker for you. I’m just saying. If we go somewhere with single women, don’t rule it out. You know what they say about the best way to get over someone.”

Get under someone else. He’d heard that, of course, but he’d never been one to follow that advice. He’d always been a monogamous dater. How’s that working for you? a snarky voice in his head asked.

He gave Kincaid a nod. Maybe she was right. He didn’t need help forgetting Melanie. He’d already burned that memory to ashes. But he could use a distraction from a certain someone else. “I’ll be ready in forty-five minutes.”

A pleased look filled her eyes. “There you go. Now was that so difficult?”