by Cindy Kirk
Mr. Right-Next-Door
For orthopedic surgeon Mitzi Sanchez, every step up the ladder of success has been the result of hard work and self-sacrifice. She’s got the perfect life in the perfect town. Now she just needs the perfect man….
Pilot Keenan McGregor’s life changed forever when he took the blame for someone else’s actions. He just wants to rebuild his life, and he’s definitely not looking to settle down. Still, whenever he’s working with Mitzi, their connection is undeniably electric! Soon they’re more than just friends-with-benefits—but can Keenan convince the good-girl-next-door that she’s the only woman who can tame his heart?
“If I did come, it would be because I’m hungry. And because I haven’t had…pizza…in weeks.”
“Understood.” He hadn’t had…pizza…in years, either.
“It wouldn’t be a date,” Mitzi said quickly. “And I won’t allow you to pay my share.”
“Hmm.” Keenan rubbed his chin. “I don’t recall offering.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. She didn’t even crack a smile. “I’ll be blunt. I’m not looking for a relationship with you.”
“Sheesh, Mitzi.” Keenan lifted his hands, palms out. “Way to blow a simple invite into the stratosphere.”
She blew out a breath. “As long as we understand each other.”
Though she did a good job of hiding it, he saw the desire lurking in her eyes. Ah, yes, they understood each other. Quite well, in fact.
He fixed his gaze on her, let it drop and linger on her breasts before returning to her lips. “I know exactly what I want.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, tonight what you’re going to get is pizza.”
* * *
Rx FOR LOVE:
Just following doctor’s orders…
Dear Reader,
When I write a book, I often weave in little things from my everyday life into the story. The scene in The Husband List where Mitzi takes Keenan to a grocery store on “sample” night as a way to make his food dollars stretch was taken from my own past. When my husband and I married, I was still a full-time student. Money was tight. Very tight. Think going to the grocery store and putting items back when I reached the checkout lane and didn’t have enough money. Think eating everything in the house (we came up with some pretty interesting combinations) until my husband got paid. Think going to the grocery store on sample night….
Though it wasn’t easy, we feel a sense of pride looking back on the way we handled those difficult times.
While I may no longer have to put things back when I reach the checkout lane or eat everything in the house until payday, just last week I went to sample night at a local grocery store. Not out of necessity, but because it’s so much fun!
I loved writing Mitzi and Keenan’s story, and I hope you enjoy reading it!
Warmest regards,
Cindy
THE HUSBAND LIST
Cindy Kirk
Books by Cindy Kirk
Harlequin Special Edition
∆If the Ring Fits #2139
∆Jackson Hole Valentine #2169
∆The Doctor’s Not-So-Little Secret #2184
∆His Valentine Bride #2243
∆The Doctor and Mr. Right #2255
**Expecting Fortune’s Heir #2258
∆A Jackson Hole Homecoming #2267
∆One Night with the Doctor #2291
ΩA Sweetheart for Jude Fortune #2312
∆The Husband List #2331
Silhouette Special Edition
Romancing the Nanny #1818
*Claiming the Rancher’s Heart #1962
*Your Ranch or Mine? #1986
*Merry Christmas, Cowboy! #2009
∆The Doctor’s Baby #2040
∆In Love with John Doe #2051
∆The Christmas Proposition #2088
Harlequin Books
Special Edition Bonus Story: The Anniversary Party—Chapter Six
*Meet Me in Montana
∆Rx for Love
**The Fortunes of Texas: Southern Invasion
ΩThe Fortunes of Texas: Welcome to Horseback Hollow!
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
CINDY KIRK
has loved to read for as long as she can remember. In first grade she received an award for reading one hundred books. As she grew up, summers were her favorite time of year. Nothing beat going to the library, then coming home and curling up in front of the window air conditioner with a good book. Often the novels she read would spur ideas, and she’d make up her own story (always with a happy ending). When she’d go to bed at night, instead of counting sheep she’d make up more stories in her head. Since selling her first story to Harlequin in 1999, Cindy has been forced to juggle her love of reading with her passion for creating stories of her own…but she doesn’t mind. Writing for the Harlequin Special Edition series is a dream come true. She only hopes you have as much fun reading her books as she has writing them!
Cindy invites you to visit her website, www.cindykirk.com.
To my NIA buddies.
You make getting up early
to exercise a true pleasure!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Excerpt
Chapter One
The home in the mountains, decorated for fall, now included a banner above the fireplace proclaiming Welcome Home, Keenan. Across the room, a large buffet table held generous portions of everything from brisket to wedges of key lime pie. Travis Fisher and his wife, Mary Karen, had pulled out all the stops for this welcome-home party. Or rather, a get-out-of-prison celebration.
Waiters in black pants and crisp white shirts circulated throughout the house holding silver trays with hors d’oeuvres and champagne.
Dr. Mitzi Sanchez turned down the dumplings and baby quiche then took a glass of wine from a passing waiter before stepping into a secluded alcove to study the scene before her. Since moving to Wyoming three years ago, she’d been to a lot of parties in Jackson Hole.
While it appeared most in attendance had come with someone, she’d arrived alone. Her last guy, an NFL football player, had been more of a fling. But even in a casual relationship she required monogamy, and that hadn’t been in Kelvin’s playbook.
Across the room she saw her associate, Dr. Benedict Campbell, and his wife, Poppy. Of all her relationships, he’d lasted the longest. While on paper they should have been perfect for each other, they’d argued constantly. After they broke up, he’d begun dating Poppy and was now a happily married man with an adorable baby boy.
She didn’t want a baby—not quite ready for that commitment—but she would like to be happily-with-someone. Mitzi heaved a sigh.
“That’s quite a sigh.”
She turned toward the sexy baritone and her heart stuttered. With hair the color of rich mahogany and hazel eyes that tended toward gr
een, Mitzi found the man’s square jaw and strong features pleasing. He smelled of soap and a familiar warm male scent that made something tighten low in her abdomen.
“Hel-lo.” Mitzi widened her smile and let the word hum between them.
Because Keenan McGregor—the man they were welcoming home—had grown up in Jackson Hole, Travis had invited friends from his school years. Many of whom Mitzi had never met.
Still, Mitzi thought she knew every attractive man in Jackson Hole. “How did I miss seeing you?”
“You were too busy ogling the buffet table.”
“I was not—” she began, then stopped when a dimple flashed in his left cheek. The rat was teasing her.
“Actually I was checking out who was here.” She lowered her voice as she spoke, forcing him to lean close. Mitzi saw his eyes darken as he inhaled the sultry scent of her new perfume.
She took a sip of champagne. This party might be fun, after all. She batted her lashes then extended her hand. “Mitzi Sanchez.”
His hand closed around hers and she felt a jolt. She glanced up, stunned by her response. But if he’d experienced the same sizzle it didn’t show.
“A pretty name for a very pretty woman.”
Though it was a compliment any reasonably attractive woman would hear in a bar any night of the week, he offered it up with such sincerity, Mitzi felt herself smiling back. When his gaze slowly slid down her body, the earlier sizzle ignited into a full-out electrical fire.
Too fast, Mitzi told herself. Take a step back. They’d been words to live by and had kept her from making a few disastrous mistakes through the years.
Deliberately, she shifted her gaze to where their pretty blonde hostess, Mary Karen, stood surrounded by friends, talking animatedly with both hands. Instead of her normal jeans and sweater, MK looked adorable in a royal blue sweater dress with a shawl neckline.
Mary Karen had told everyone the party would be casual. For this crowd that meant anything from jeans to fall dresses and heels. Though the hunk beside her looked mouthwateringly good in Wranglers and a wheat-colored sweater, Mitzi enjoyed dressing up almost as much as she liked changing her hair.
For tonight’s event, she’d chosen a corduroy skirt in camel and a crisp cotton shirt in pumpkin spice. Her hair, which changed color so much she couldn’t quite recall the original shade, was blond tonight with streaks the color of peanut butter. In a whimsical mood, she’d pulled the sides back and secured the strands with two of her favorite clips.
“You have bones in your hair.”
Feeling more in control, Mitzi turned back to him and gave a throaty laugh. “They’re femurs.”
“Why do you have femurs in your hair?”
“I’m an orthopedic surgeon,” Mitzi explained. “I found these hair clips at an eclectic little boutique in L.A. I pull them out for special occasions.”
He took a sip of the drink in his hand, which looked like water but may have been vodka. Shadows played in his eyes, making them unreadable. “Tonight is special?”
“It is for Keenan McGregor. The guy got a get-out-of-jail-free card after being convicted of manslaughter.” Mitzi lifted her glass of champagne as if making a toast. “A cause for celebration if I ever heard one. Don’t you agree?”
“Definitely.” His lips curved slightly upward. “An orthopedic surgeon? My arm was broken when I was ten so I guess we have that in common.”
Even with a glass of champagne in her hand and a handsome man at her side, Mitzi still wore her doctor’s hat. He’d said his arm was broken rather than he broke his arm. If he’d been a child, the wording would have put her on alert. But the man before her was definitely no boy.
“The last thing I want to do when I come to a party is talk about medicine. Let’s chat about something more interesting.” She stepped closer. “Such as you.”
He didn’t retreat, merely took another sip of his drink. “I’m not all that interesting.”
Oh, but he was. His rugged good looks and confident demeanor called to her in a primal way and made her determined to uncover all his secrets.
Unable to resist touching him for one more second, Mitzi looped a hand through his arm. “You’re just being modest. C’mon, tell me something about yourself.”
“I love to fly.”
“Are you a pilot?”
“I was.” His eyes turned dark. “I’m working on getting my license back. That’s at the top of my list.”
Mitzi thought of her own list, the one she’d compiled just that morning. After years of playing the field, she was finally ready to settle down. Her list detailed essential characteristics she required in a husband. No more wasting time dating the wrong kind of men. “I have one of those.”
“A pilot’s license?”
The question flummoxed her. Then she chuckled. “No. A list.”
“What’s on yours?”
“Nuh-uh.” She waggled a finger at him. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. I don’t even know your name.”
“Tell me one thing first.” His slow, easy smile did strange things to her insides. “How do you happen to be at this party? You’re not from Jackson Hole.”
“I’m from California.” Not about to be distracted, Mitzi steered the conversation back to him. “I take it you’re from here?”
He nodded, shifted his gaze from her.
“Since you were invited, you must know Keenan.”
Those beautiful hazel eyes returned to her. “Extremely well.”
“Point him out.” Mitzi tightened her grip on his arm. “I’ve been trying to figure out which one he is but it’s difficult. I know Betsy, but some siblings don’t resemble each other.”
She thought of her sister, who looked one hundred percent like their Mexican mother, while Mitzi took after her Argentinean father with her blue eyes and fair complexion.
“True enough.” He brushed back a lock of hair that fell sexily across his forehead.
Her body began to thrum. Mitzi had to force her eyes from his face to scan the crowd. “Can I see him from where I’m standing?”
“You can.”
“Tell me.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Which one is the convict?”
He tipped her chin up with his finger until her eyes met his. “You’re looking at him.”
* * *
For a fraction of a second, Mitzi’s blue eyes widened. Then, she laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Keenan wasn’t sure why he found the conversation amusing, but he did. “I’d show you my driver’s license but it expired when I was in prison.”
She was a pretty thing, and unlike any doctor he’d ever known. Not that he ran in that crowd. Or rather, he hadn’t in the past. Coming back to Jackson Hole, it had surprised him that so many of his boyhood pals were now important members of the medical community.
“You’re not Keenan McGregor.” Though she spoke boldly, confidently, the uncertainty in her eyes told him she wasn’t so sure. “You’re making it up.”
“Travis.” He gestured his friend over.
The popular ob-gyn, tall and lean with sandy-colored hair and a perpetual smile, sauntered toward them.
Travis had been one of a group of men who’d worked tirelessly for Keenan’s release and provided money for his legal fees. Though his friends insisted he didn’t owe them a dime, Keenan had vowed to repay every penny, no matter how long it took.
“I see you’ve met Mitzi.” Travis’s smile broadened to include the woman at his side.
“We’re getting acquainted.” Keenan shot Mitzi a wink. “I was just telling her I don’t have a driver’s license since mine expired while I was in prison.”
“You’re going to need one.” Travis rocked back on his heels. “I understand you’ll be workin
g with Joel while you get back on your feet.”
Although Keenan had only recently met Travis’s friend, Joel had offered him a job with his construction company. “I appreciate the opportunity.”
Travis’s eyes took on a distant look. “You were always fooling around with wood or engines when we were growing up.”
Out of necessity, Keenan thought with a wry smile. He’d had to keep the old jalopy he’d driven running, and if he hadn’t done repairs to the dump of a house where they’d lived, it would have fallen in around them.
“Thanks for the party, Trav.” Keenan gestured toward the room filled with family and old friends. “You and Mary Karen went to a lot of trouble to pull this together.”
“We’re happy to have you back.” The sincerity in Travis’s eyes humbled Keenan. He’d done little to deserve such loyalty. “If you need anything, anything at all—”
“You’ve done enough already.” Keenan clasped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But thanks. I appreciate the offer.”
They talked for another minute before Travis left to answer a catering question. It wasn’t until after he disappeared into the crowd that Keenan turned back to Mitzi, who’d been messing with her smartphone while undoubtedly listening to every word. “Satisfied?”
Instead of looking abashed, she grinned. “You were right.”
“About being me?”
“I had my doubts.” Mitzi looked him up and down, sizing him up. “You and Betsy don’t really look alike.”
Before he could respond, she spun on her heel. “I’m getting something to eat. Perhaps snag more champagne. I’m not on call so I’m allowing myself two glasses this evening.”
Keenan used to drink, quite a bit during high school and even more during the following years. Then he quit. Not because alcohol was a problem for him, but because he didn’t want it to become one.
He watched the pretty doctor saunter off and felt a stab of disappointment. Hanging out with her had been fun...while it lasted.
“Hey.” Mitzi turned, cast a challenging glance over her shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?”
