COULD THE WRONG MAN ON PAPER BE THE PERFECT MAN IN REAL LIFE?
Cate Harmon likes lists. While this may serve her well as a financial planner, her girlfriends think that creating a checklist for her ideal man is going a step too far. But she has one, and she’s sticking to it.
Cate has always dreamed of starting a family and settling down and yet she’s the only one of her close knit friendship group still unattached. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to lower her standards.
Enter Dave, a reformed bad boy with gorgeous hair and eyes the wrong color. Dave doesn’t tick any of the boxes on Cate’s list. It’s unthinkable that she would develop feelings for him, and yet … Cate finds herself being drawn to Dave in a way she’s never felt before.
Will Cate confront the reasons behind her list? Or will she risk losing a man who could be better than any list she could ever dream up?
This romance where opposites attract is perfect for fans of Rachel Gibson, Susan Mallery, Victoria Dahl, and Susan Elizabeth Phillips.
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Belinda is a marketing communications specialist and copywriter who allowed an addiction to romance and chick-lit to get the better of her. She was named a top ten finalist in the Romance Writers of Australia Emerald Award in both 2013 and 2014.
Her other addictions include music and cars. Belinda’s eclectic music taste forms the foundation of many of her writing ideas and her healthy appreciation for fast cars means she would not so secretly love a Lamborghini. For now she’ll have to settle with her son’s Hot Wheels collection and writing hot male leads with sports cars.
Belinda lives in Sydney and blogs regularly about writing and reading at www.belindawilliamsbooks.com
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I heard a low whistle, and realized I’d been staring at Dave’s backside while he retreated. I looked in the direction of the whistle.
Scarlett’s eyebrows were raised in appreciation and she was focused on Dave, not me. “Is that your plumber?”
“That’s my plumber.”
“Nice.” She sat down in the seat next to me. “Did you get his number?”
“Oh right. You already have his number. He’s your plumber. Well, that makes it easy.”
“Easy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I saw you staring at his butt. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“He’s my plumber!” I protested.
“So? It’s not like a doctor-patient confidentiality thing. He’s looked at your drains. Big deal.”
“But?” Scarlett crossed her arms and gave me a stern look.
I blinked, flustered. “He’s my plumber.”
“Yes, Cate. He’s your plumber. What’s the problem?”
“He’s not my type,” I said quietly.
Scarlett leaned in, arms still crossed, and waited until I met her dark eyes. “He’s not on your list, is he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shot back, alarmed.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re very specific about your type.”
“So?” I wasn’t going to go the effort to deny it. Scarlett could be exhausting when she put her mind to something.
She eased back into her seat and uncrossed her arms, satisfied with my reluctant honesty. “Maybe you could loosen up a bit.”
“And go out with a plumber?” I said, not trying to hide the disbelief in my voice.
Scarlett placed her hands on her cheeks in mock shock. “Oh my God. He uses his hands for living. How uncouth.” Her expression turned sly. “In my experience, men who are good with their hands are good in other areas.”
“Scarlett! What would John think?”
She snickered shamelessly. “He doesn’t care, because he knows I eat at home.”
I shut my mouth, silenced once again by my friend’s brazenness.
She shrugged. “Seriously. He was hot.”
“There’s a lot more to a successful and rewarding relationship than chemistry,” I replied primly.
She grinned at me. “Chemistry is a good place to start though.”
“Fine. Chemistry is important,” I allowed, “but there’s still a lot more to it than that.”
“And I’m sure you’ve got it listed and color-coded in a spreadsheet somewhere, don’t you?”
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