Because of the List
Harlequin Superromance
December 2011
ISBN-13: 978-0373717484
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Taylor McCabe likes equations. They make sense. But one buttoned-up computer whiz plus an injured army pilot simply does not add up. It's time to get over her childish crush on Alex Worth, her brother's best friend, and find a husband. Enter The List – Taylor's ten must-have traits for a viable suitor.
But her plan goes awry when Alex insists on vetting each contender. The way he dismisses them feels like the actions of a protective boyfriend. Strangely, his attitude makes her even more attracted to him. Too bad he doesn't meet even one of her requirements….
Reviews and Readers' Comments
"Fantastic!!...BECAUSE OF THE LIST has to be one of my top 3 favorite books this year."
—Blogger/Reviewer B Renae Reads
"I love books that evoke many different emotions, a book that grabs me by the heart and makes me feel like I'm right in the middle of the story.
Because of the List is that kind of book!"
—Reader Blanche P., Goodreads
"These are well-drawn characters with complex personalities and
realistic reactions to life’s problems."
—Alexandra Kay, Romantic Times Book Reviews
Excerpt
If Taylor ever needed a new career, carpentry had some surprisingly attractive possibilities, even if she didn't particularly have a gift for it.
Thanks to the do-it-yourself book the man at the hardware store had recommended, she was getting the hang of beating the life out of the nails as she drove them through the kitchen trim. And if she happened to picture Alex's head as she pounded, who could blame her?
As the hammer connected with her thumb, she yelled and growled her frustration loudly. Darn that man for getting in her thoughts and making her lose her concentration.
Someone knocked at the front door. She tossed the stupid hammer down and got up, sucking on her thumb as if that would take away the pain.
She checked out the peep hole before opening and growled again, more quietly this time.
Why did her heart speed up at the sight of Alex standing on her front porch? Was it rage-induced? Lingering embarrassment? The usual nerves he brought out?
Yeah, sure. Lying to herself was fine as long as, in the back of her mind, she knew she was lying. Right?
He knocked again, harder, and she jumped. Lord, why now, when he'd blown her off all day? She looked tired, dirty and generally awful. At nine o'clock this morning when he was supposed to pick her up, she'd at least been refreshed and smelled clean. She'd even considered putting on some lip gloss and mascara but that idea had fizzled when she discovered her rarely used mascara was dried and crusty.
"I know you're in there, Taylor. I heard you yelling your head off."
She opened the door. "I did not yell my head off."
"Heard you clear out here."
"You're eleven hours and seventeen minutes late."
He shoved his hand in the pocket of his cargos and glanced toward the driveway at nothing. Dusk was falling, spilling streaks of pink and lavender across the sky. "May I come in?"
She pressed her lips together, moistening them. When his gaze lowered to them, she took a quick step back and let him inside. They stood in the entry, two feet and a heavy silence between them.
One would think she'd made peace with awkward moments after twenty-six years, but no. She pushed loose strands of her hair behind her ear and fumbled for what to say. "You don't need to help me with the house," was what finally came out.
"I think I have someone to buy Quinn's Winchester."
"Okay." That was the last topic she'd expected. "You know where it is."
"That's not why I'm here."
"Oh. Then why?" She was curt with him and it felt good, but not as good as the hammer action.
He craned his neck to see into the kitchen. She'd pushed the table to the middle of the room to access the walls. "What are you doing in there?" He stalked past her with purpose, as if he needed to save the day.
"I'm getting my house ready to put on the market."
"You're doing the trim? By yourself?"
"Myself was the only one around when the work needed to be done," she said pointedly.
The only sign he even remembered he was supposed to have helped her this morning was the flicker of his lids downward. Or maybe he was just blinking.
"What do you know about replacing trim?"
"Before today, hardly anything." She took the hardcover book from the table and waved it in the air. "But, amazingly, when there's something a girl needs to learn, there's always a book out there that will teach her."
"How are you cutting the pieces?"
She wasn't yet. Had put that part off for as long as possible while she removed the old trim, then started with a long piece that didn't need to be cut. "With a saw."
"What kind of saw?"
"The right kind. I rented one."
He looked around for it, but it was out in the garage.
"It wouldn't be very bright to bring it in here, would it?" she said smugly. "It's big, messy. I don't want sawdust in my orange juice."
"Garage?"
She nodded and he went for the back door before she could say anything. Baffled, she followed him out.
The light in the garage was on, the door closed. Alex opened the small side door and went in. She'd left her car in the driveway and placed the saw, the trim and everything else she'd bought this morning where her car was usually parked.
"You left the garage unlocked with all this stuff in here? What is it worth, a couple grand?"
"In case you hadn't noticed, I was still working. I'll lock up when I'm done for the night."
"I'll do the cutting."
She was dying to have someone, anyone but her, work the saw. That sharp blade terrified her. But her stubborn streak was even stronger than her fear. "I've got it covered."
He turned and stared at her, disbelieving at first. Then his shoulders dropped a notch. "You're really pissed."
"No." Okay, maybe.
"You have every right."
"You think?" Apparently she was loosening up with him enough to say exactly what popped into her head. That was progress, in a twisted way.
"Scarlet..." He turned away, rubbed his palms together.
She leaned against the wood stud of the unfinished wall, studying him. Something was up. He was...nervous? Around her? Maybe just contrite. As he should be.
Alex turned around, looking at the cracked concrete floor. "I'm sorry."
"This was never a good idea. You're trying to recover, get your leg healed. I meant it when I said I could do this-"
"That's not what I'm talking about." He walked over and stood in front of her. Crossed his arms over his chest. Made eye contact, and she felt the impact of that gaze down to her toes. "I'm sorry I kissed you."
He might as well have punched her in the gut. She took in a shaky breath. "That's not exactly what a girl wants to hear..."
"That's not what I mean. Don't twist it around."
"'Sorry I kissed you' is pretty straightforward."
He reached out, squeezed her shoulder. Let his hand linger on her upper arm for a second before dropping it. "It can't happen again. I'm...look, I know Quinn's not here. God, do I know that. Every second of every day, I have to live with that..."
He broke off and his throat moved as he swallowed.
"It's a guy thing," he continued. "Because of me he's not around to do what big brothers do. Carry the heavy stuff, work the saw, scare off assholes who could hurt you. Last thing I want to do is be the asshole."
If you'd like to read more of Because of the List,
pre-order your copy now! Sale date is November 29, 2011.