Because of the List

by Amy Knupp

  Bit by bit, the top ten characteristics disappeared and the flames grew. At the first hint of heat on her hand, she dropped the paper into the sink, ready to turn on the faucet if necessary. She fought the urge, though, empowered somehow by the sight of the list vanishing.

  She stared at the ash in the sink after the paper was gone, the burning scent in the air giving her the oddest satisfaction. When Lorien jumped up on the counter, Taylor didn’t even scold her.

  “Well, kitty, here goes nothing.”

  VIENNA HAD A LOT OF FRIENDS. A lot of pretty friends, Alex thought as he looked around the Worth backyard from behind the rented bar counter they’d set up on the patio. The crowded gathering was a cross-sampling of her life, from people he remembered from kindergarten to those she’d introduced as grad-school buddies.

  And yet the only one who really caught his attention was Taylor.

  The dress she wore gave him an alluring view of the slender, sexy legs that had been imprinted in his memory—stretched out beside him and wrapped around him in the moonlight. Her heels were so high it was a wonder she could walk, but they did amazing things for her. The flowered dress was modest compared to some of the getups here, but he had trouble taking his eyes off the way it followed the curve around her hips, cinching in at the waist.

  He itched to run his hand over that curve, in the dress if he had to, but he’d prefer a smooth expanse of pale skin beneath his fingers. Her hair was pulled up in a carefree, sexy style unlike anything he’d ever seen on her. Fortunately, he was stuck behind the bar doling out beer and wine.

  Their mom had gone all out for her little girl, as Vee deserved, putting no cap on the guest list. The food and beverage spread was impressive, with three expansive tables positioned around the yard, each offering an assortment of appetizers supplied by a catering company. She’d sprung for an ungodly amount of wine and beer with the agreement that Alex and Marshall would serve as bartenders. Of course Marshall had yet to show his face. Everyone would be better off if he’d escaped to some bar far from the festivities.

  Alex suspected this was, in addition to a celebration of Vienna’s achievements, his mom’s unofficial salute to the beginning of her empty-nest years. There was the small issue of her overgrown boys bunking with her, but Alex, for one, hoped to be out of there soon. Marshall—well, it might be best if he was kicked out.

  Cheryl Worth was in her element. She’d added several of her own friends to the guest list—those who’d known Vienna since she was born. Neighbors, coworkers. Alex hadn’t seen her pull out all the stops like this since Marshall had finished school, back when Alex was relatively new to the army and had made it home on leave for the party. Alex was the lone child who hadn’t done her proud with a degree, advanced or otherwise. He had a hunch that their mother would throw a bash the day he resigned from the service.

  As he was filling a red plastic cup with beer from the keg and gazing toward Taylor instead of the tap, his sister came up on the other side of him and bumped him with her hip.

  “Guest of honor isn’t supposed to be behind the bar,” he said, bumping her back.

  “Guest of honor can help herself. Especially when the bartender type is staring at one of the guests.”

  Alex feigned intense concentration on getting just the right head on the beer. He handed it to the guy on the other side of the tall, surprisingly sturdy counter, a bookworm-hippy-looking twentysomething who was no doubt from the grad-school camp. The guy said, “You’re the beer master, man. Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” Alex watched him walk off then turned to Vienna. “Friend of yours?”

  “Of course,” she said enthusiastically. “They all are.” She giggled and he guessed she was already feeling the wine.

  “More chardonnay, princess?” He took her glass and picked up the opened bottle of white.

  Vienna nodded. “I like how you ignored the bit about my good friend Taylor.”

  “What bit was that?” He filled her glass three-quarters of the way full and handed it to her, then turned to the female partygoer holding out an empty wineglass.

  He busied himself pouring the cabernet she requested, hoping Vienna would wander off any minute now.

  “She looks hot tonight, doesn’t she?” his sister said. He could tell her eyes were on Taylor, though he avoided looking at her himself.

  “Something you need to tell me?” he asked. “Is this why you never go on dates?”

  Vienna slapped him lightly on the arm. “I like boys. Just not now. I need to establish my career.”

  “Lots of them to choose from tonight.”

  “They’re my friends, Alex. Quit diverting.”

  “Diverting? Is that a fancy marketing term?” He laughed as he handed a short, curvy blonde a cold beer.

  Vienna set her glass aside and served the next two people at the same time.

  “Show off,” Alex said.

  “So.” Vienna faced him now that there was no one waiting for a drink. “You and Taylor.”

  “This again?” He helped himself to an unused cup and carelessly filled it. Took a gulp and frowned at the amount of foam on top. He needed to be fired from this “job” if that was the best he could do. He flicked as much of the foam out of the cup as he could.

  “It’s obvious you’re attracted to her, army guy.”

  He squeezed the plastic cup until it made cracking sounds and the beverage went to the top. “It’s not that easy.”

  Vienna nonchalantly waved at a group across the patio who had just arrived. “You’re making it more difficult than it has to be.”

  Two women came up to the bar, making no secret of the fact that they were eyeing Alex. He was relieved for the interruption.

  “What can I do for you ladies?” he asked.

  The brunette on his left leaned on the counter, giving him a front-row seat to her ample and exposed cleavage. She definitely knew how to accentuate her assets. He did his best to keep his eyes on her brown ones, thinking they were pretty eyes once you finally noticed them. “If you mean drink-wise, I’d like a glass of white wine.” She left no question that she had other possibilities on her mind.

  “Page, you girls are trolling for trouble tonight,” Vienna said, amused. “I have to caution you, though, this is my brother.” She waved toward the backyard. “Many other better-adjusted guys out there.”

  “You’ve been holding out on us, Vienna,” the other woman said. She had short, spiky, two-toned hair and round cheeks. Though lacking the cleavage of her friend, her outfit, a tight-fitting, lacy camisole, commanded attention, as well.

  “Pick your poison.” Alex held a bottle of chardonnay and one of Riesling before Page. She pointed at the Riesling and shot him a flirty look. In another time and place, maybe she would have sparked his interest.

  “You?” he asked her friend as he poured the first glass.

  “I’m a beer girl.” She walked to the side of the house and carried one of the bar stools they’d brought up from the basement back to the bar. She set it in front of the counter, off to the side, and climbed onto it. Extending her hand, she said, “Kylie. Nice to meet you…?”

  “Alex,” he said, because there was no way out of this. Yet. He was stuck on drink duty until Marshall showed up.

  “We thought we’d keep you company, Alex.”

  A HALF HOUR LATER, the lovely ladies were still keeping Alex company. He’d played nice, flirted back here and there for the first ten or fifteen minutes.

  All the while Page and Kylie tried to draw him into conversation, he’d subtly watched three men monopolize Taylor out near his mom’s birdbath. They made her laugh. One of them had touched her damn arm.

  And here he was.

  He took a drink of his now-warm beer. Just as well that the Bobbsey Twins were camped out. It prevented him from storming over there and doing something impulsive.

  If Vienna had invited the guys to her party, they were most likely not serial killers. So Taylor wasn’t in any danger
. Whom she decided to talk to was neither his business nor his problem.

  He managed to continue to interact—albeit in a half-assed way—with his apparent fan club while making a game of privately rating the women who came up to the bar on a scale of one to ten. He probably would’ve given Page and Kylie a seven and a six and a half when they’d first approached, but they’d each had a point deducted for wearing out their welcome.

  The sun had set and the yard was illuminated by tiki torches that doubled as bug repellent. Strings of outdoor lights in the shape of flip-flops were strung between trees and around the windows of the house. The laughter got louder as the level in the second keg got lower. The roar of the party would probably be bothersome for the surrounding neighbors, but, in a genius move, his mom had invited every last one of them.

  Alex’s top rating so far was an eight, awarded to a pretty woman with long blond hair, and, wouldn’t you know it, she was with a skinny, academic-looking guy in Harry Potter spectacles. Not that it mattered. Alex wasn’t on the hunt tonight, merely desperate for entertainment while he tended bar.

  As he drew another two beers from the keg for the Mooneys, who lived two doors to the south, he felt a feminine arm trail across his back and around to his side. He briefly closed his eyes, guessing Kylie had disembarked from her stool.

  “Hey, babe, I missed you.”

  Taylor?

  Calling him babe?

  Making a move on him in public?

  He wondered who’d slipped a mickey into the beer he hadn’t managed to finish. Or maybe into her drink.

  Glancing around to confirm it was in fact Taylor and not an overactive imagination on his part, he finished pouring the beers and handed them to the guests. He turned and looked questioningly at her. Taylor widened her eyes meaningfully. Before he could grasp her scheme, she smiled sympathetically at Page.

  She was rescuing him.

  “There you are,” he said warmly, finally playing along with her. He leaned down and kissed her. Added some tongue action to make it convincing. All part of the charade.

  Like hell.

  When he stopped to get his bearings and remind himself this was for show, Taylor surprised him again by pulling him back to her lips. Who was he to refuse her?

  Page, who’d still been hanging over the bar, now latched on to Bill Copperfield, a neighbor with about twenty years on her, but single. Maybe they’d make each other happy.

  “You didn’t mention you had a girlfriend,” Kylie said, starting to sound sloppy.

  “You didn’t ask.” Alex barely spared her a glance as he sent Taylor a thank-you with his eyes.

  Kylie pointedly looked Taylor up and down. “I wouldn’t have pegged her for your type.”

  “You would’ve been wrong,” he said, feeling Taylor stiffen at the cheerfully delivered insult. He pulled her close to his side and there was no charade involved in the protective move. It came without thought, just as naturally as kissing her had been.

  Dangerous ground, he told himself.

  “Would you mind grabbing me another beer?” Kylie spoke to Taylor as she handed over her empty cup.

  Alex took it before Taylor could. “My pleasure.”

  Taylor narrowed her eyes momentarily, then smiled at him as she picked up the beer tap. She held it up, silently offering to fill the cup while he held it. He choked back a laugh. Who knew Taylor had such a wicked side to her?

  When the cup was full, he handed it to Kylie, who had climbed down from her self-made throne.

  “Thanks, sexy,” she said, then turned on her stiletto and stalked off to find her next prey.

  Alex turned to thank Taylor but found her taking drink requests. In the past five seconds, a line had appeared out of nowhere. He fell in beside her and refilled at least a dozen beer cups as fast as he could.

  “You don’t have to help,” he said in Taylor’s ear.

  “I want to.” She handed over a shiraz to one of his mom’s friends. “I’ve pretty much exhausted my party-talk repertoire. Having a job is good.”

  They spent the next hour serving drinks almost without a pause. Taylor took care of pouring wine and Alex was the beer guy. He tapped the third and final keg.

  “Vee hangs out with a bunch of drunks,” Alex said as he wiped up the spilled beer from the counter.

  Taylor shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her gaze landed on the empty stool Kylie had occupied and she pulled it behind the counter and inched her way up on it. Crossing one leg over the other, she flexed her shoes. “They look a lot better than they feel.”

  He meant to respond. Maybe he nodded. But the view of her calf and lower thigh…

  It wasn’t a revealing glimpse. Just sexy skin and perfect leg. He had a heck of a time keeping his eyes off her as they were once again inundated with thirsty guests.

  The cases of wine soon ran out, and not long after, the last keg was running low. Word spread quickly and there was talk of moving the party to a bar, which suited Alex fine. He leaned his back against the counter and pulled his shirt away from his chest to get it to stop sticking. “I’d say Vienna owes us both a big, expensive dinner.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Taylor said, standing. “I’m beat. It’s time for me to go home.”

  “Speaking of owing…” Alex touched her arm. “I owe you one for your heroic rescue.”

  “You looked sort of miserable.”

  “Scared for my life.”

  “You do kind of owe me,” she said, grinning.

  “Yeah?” He could think of some choice ways to make it up to her…?.

  “It appears your handyman work is top-notch. I’ve got a family interested in buying my house. I’m going house-hunting with a Realtor tomorrow.” She bit her lip, her gutsy playfulness gone. “I’ve never bought a house before. I’d…love to have a male point of view. You know, fix-it stuff, opinions on furnaces and fireplaces and who knows what else.”

  That wasn’t quite what he had in mind but, funny thing, he hadn’t yet learned how to say no to her. Besides, house-hunting fitted securely into the role Quinn would expect of him.

  “Sounds like you should make a checklist. Top ten characteristics you want in a house.” He was only partially joking.

  “No. I’m trying something new.” She straightened and exhaled. “I’m going to pay attention to my gut instinct tomorrow. Going to try, anyway.”

  “In that case, you’re on. What time?”

  “Bright and early if you’re up for it.” His exact words when he’d stood her up for their first hardware-store trip. “Nine.”

  “You got it.”

  “I’ll pick you up this time.” She gave him a meaningful look.

  “Yes, ma’am. The higher your heels, the scarier you are.”

  “I’ll try to wear flip-flops tomorrow, just for you.”

  “S’there any more beer?” Kylie draped herself over the bar and held out her lipstick-stained cup.

  “There’s a little in there. Help yourself.” He gestured toward the keg. “Bartender’s officially off-duty and I have to walk my girlfriend to her car.” He tried not to hesitate over the word girlfriend, but truth be told, Kylie was too far gone to notice if he did.

  “Let me say goodbye to Vienna,” Taylor said as she hurried to one of the patio tables where his sister sat with two of her friends from grade school who’d come back to Madison for the party.

  Alex packed up the remaining empty bottles while Kylie fought to get a few last drops out of the tap. Before she could call it quits, Taylor was back, smiling at him.

  He took her hand, weaving their fingers together as they headed toward the driveway. Neither of them spoke the whole way, as if they both knew they should acknowledge the ruse but preferred to hold on to the excuse to touch while they could. By the time they got to her car, parked halfway down the block, nervousness had overcome him.

  Nervousness.

  Him.

  Bad sign. Bad, bad sign.

  “See you
in the morning,” he said as she opened her door. It took steely willpower but he backed away from her. Waved. Went on his way. Nonchalantly, of course.

  As he walked back to the house, hand in his front pocket, head down, he kicked a rock repeatedly, following its trail before blasting it forward again.

  If there was a nagging voice in his head that was set on pointing out how cozy and domestic house-hunting was, he paid it no heed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  TAYLOR DIDN’T HAVE a lot of practice trusting her instincts, but they were screaming at her right now. Or something was.

  She stood on the back screened-in porch of a house she’d never expected to like. One that, on paper, wasn’t the most practical. But she not only liked it…she was falling in love with it.

  It was a seventy-year-old bungalow with so much curb appeal it’d make the perfect Christmas card. Thick columns supported a wide, welcoming front porch, and the current owner had filled long, handmade flower boxes that stretched along both sides with dozens of pink, purple and white blooms.

  The inside was cute and well-maintained, and the kitchen and bathrooms had been remodeled recently. The first floor was full of windows. She could picture Elanor and Lorien perching on the sills, in feline heaven. The two bedrooms on the main floor were decent-size and one would make a cozy home office. But the crowning feature of the house was the master bedroom. The suite stretched over the second floor and included two walk-in closets and a bathroom with a claw-foot tub. Dormer windows at the front and back let in sunshine and fresh air, and Taylor adored the cushioned window seats.

  This was the ninth house they’d been in today. Genevieve, the Realtor Karen at work had recommended, had the patience of an old, loyal dog. She had a way of appearing whenever Taylor had questions, but otherwise she let Taylor and Alex wander around without feeling stalked.

  Alex was doing exactly what she’d asked him to—checking construction quality, plumbing systems, heating and cooling and other details it wouldn’t occur to Taylor to inspect. He’d been a big help, practically speaking, but that was all.