Cindy Kirk - The Husband List

“What kept Keenan McGregor off the list?”

Mitzi took another sip of champagne. The qualities that she’d listed had been well thought out and valid. Yet, somehow, the thought of saying them aloud made her uneasy.

She reminded herself she hadn’t gotten to where she was in life by caring what other people thought.

“Successful.” Mitzi met Kate’s gaze. “I want a man who’s achieved a certain measure of success by the time he’s reached his thirties. While I admit Keenan is good-looking and charming, he’s certainly not, by anyone’s measure, a success.”

“You’re wrong.”

Mitzi whirled.

Betsy Harcourt, Keenan’s sister, stood so close it was obvious that while Mitzi had kept her voice deliberately low, the woman had heard every word.

Mitzi flinched. “I didn’t mean for you—”

“Don’t.” With a finger pointed directly at Mitzi, Betsy spoke, her voice snapping like a whip. “Don’t say another word.”

Stunned, Mitzi obeyed. This was a side to the sweet and docile paralegal she’d never seen. The sprinkle of freckles across Betsy’s nose now stood like angry pennies against the pallor of her skin.

“You’re wrong about Keenan. Dead wrong. My brother is a success. Perhaps he doesn’t have a shiny red sports car or a big house in Spring Gulch, but he’s successful in the ways that matter.” Betsy’s eyes flashed a warning when Mitzi started to open her mouth.

“Keenan raised me when he was only a kid himself. Never did he make me feel like a burden. He went to prison to protect me. Gave up his freedom for me.” Betsy brought her clenched fist to her chest. “If you can’t see that Keenan is a special guy, then I’m telling you...stay away from him. He deserves only good things—and good people—in his life.”

Tears welled in Betsy’s blue eyes. Before they could fall, the brunette blinked them back and straightened her shoulders. She shifted her focus to Kate, who stood slack-jawed at Mitzi’s side. “Mary Karen needs to speak with you.”

“I’ll be right in,” Kate responded when she finally found her voice, but Betsy had already spun on her heel and was headed inside.

Sighing, Mitzi bit her lip. “That was awful.”

Kate nodded. “I’m afraid it’s only going to get more so, at least for you.”

Mitzi cocked her head.

“The man you were just told to steer clear of is going to be the one trimming out your new home.”

Chapter Three

Keenan glanced around the family room of the gracious home in the Spring Gulch subdivision of Jackson Hole. At just over 2,100 square feet, Mitzi’s home might not be as large as some, but the spacious interior and the stone and brick exterior was appealing and surprisingly cozy.

After spending the morning raising rafters on a house in the mountains, he was sent by Joel to help Bill on Mitzi’s home. It was the first Keenan had seen of the place. “It’s a beauty.”

“Turning out pretty nice.” Balding and somewhere in his fifties, the foreman reminded Keenan of an accountant.

Buckling on the tool belt Joel had lent him, Keenan studied the French doors leading to a vaulted screened porch. Though he thought the house was still an awful lot of space for one person, he admired the efficiency of the floor plan. “For some reason I thought Mitzi, er, Dr. Sanchez, had a condo.”

“She bought a place in Teton Village about a year ago. Apparently she didn’t like it.” Bill shrugged. “Being an orthopedic surgeon, the lady has money to burn.”

Money to burn.

Keenan wondered what that would be like. Right now he’d be satisfied with enough cash to last until his next paycheck.

“Does she come around much?” He kept his tone casual.

“Every couple of days she drives up in that little red BMW M6.” Bill sanded a piece of trim. “Friendly enough. Stays just long enough to check on the progress. Sometimes asks a few questions. That’s about it. She’s a real looker.”

“She certainly is.”

Curiosity sparked in the older man’s eyes. “You acquainted?”

“We met recently.” Keenan measured a piece of molding and made a quick cut with the miter box. “She knows people I know.”

“Gabe and Joel are both married to doctors.”

Keenan was well aware of that fact. Joel, owner of Stone Craft Builders, was married to Mitzi’s good friend, Kate. He’d briefly met Gabe Davis, the construction engineer who was Joel’s second in command. Keenan hadn’t yet met Gabe’s wife, Michelle, another local doctor.

“Speak of the devil.” Bill brushed some of the sawdust off his pants and straightened.

Keenan followed Bill’s gaze out the front window and saw a car pull to a stop in the driveway. Mitzi got out and straightened a skirt the color of the Wyoming sky, modest but short enough to reveal an enticing expanse of tanned and toned thighs.

Keenan wasn’t sure if it was the legs or the cream-colored sweater hugging her generous curves that made his insides jiggle like the gelatin Betsy served for dessert last night.

He frowned. What was it about Mitzi that made him feel like some geeky teen crushing on the school’s head cheerleader?

Best not to delve too deeply into that muddy pool, he told himself. What mattered was the last time they were together he’d brushed off the gorgeous doctor. He’d done to her before she could do to him. The realization that he hadn’t let his attraction to her tie him into knots buoyed his courage. When the front door opened and Mitzi stepped inside, the smile he shot her was easy.

Her own smile flashed warm and friendly. If she felt any discomfort over seeing him again, it didn’t show.

“Dr. Sanchez.” Bill stepped forward. As the job site foreman, working with the client was his responsibility when Joel or Gabe wasn’t there. “We’re making good progress.”

“C’mon, Bill. Please call me Mitzi.” She slanted a sideways glance at Keenan. “Hello, again.”

Keenan touched the brim of his ball cap. “Ma’am.”

She frowned then turned from him in dismissal. Her imperious gaze swept the room.

He tried to see the home through her eyes: the massive stone fireplace with hand-carved mantel against one wall, twelve-foot ceilings that pulled the eyes upward, creating a feeling of openness. Whoever had drawn up the plans had done a superb job of contrasting warmth and comfort with understated elegance.

“I’m going to wander.” She waved a hand. “Don’t let me disturb you.”

“I can show you—” Bill began then glanced down as the phone clipped to his belt buzzed. He lifted it, grimaced. “I’m afraid I need to take this. Keenan can point out what we’ve finished up today.”

“I don’t need—”

“I’m happy to do it,” Keenan said smoothly, catching Bill’s look.

Mitzi must have noticed it too, because she didn’t protest further.

“Bill set the countertop this morning.” He gestured with one hand as they entered the kitchen area. Keenan pointed out several other accomplishments Bill had mentioned when he’d first arrived.

Though Mitzi listened intently, she didn’t say much. But as the tour continued, he understood by the way her gaze kept flitting to him and lingering that lust had punched her, too. Desire, hot as a fired-up grill, snapped and sizzled in the air.

She might be determined to push him away—as he was with her—but he’d stake his life she was fighting a losing battle with the pull.

No guts. No glory.

His former mantra rose up and slapped him in the face.

“Do you have plans for dinner?” Keenan heard himself ask when they paused at the door to the last of the three bedrooms.

Her head swiveled.

“I was thinking of stopping by Perfect Pizza tonight.” He gave a careless shrug. Just because he’d succumbed to the urge didn’t mean he’d beg. “Interested?”