At the fridge he cracked a coldie and took a few deep mouthfuls, then started unpacking his workbag and emptying his pockets onto the kitchen counter—phone, notebook, pen, half-dead torch—then went to chuck out his food wrappers.
That’s when he saw it.
A crumpled bit of paper, lying beside the bin.
Normally, he wouldn’t care and would’ve kicked it in with the rest.But the neat script was unmistakable.Sharp.Neat.Too tidy to be anyone else’s…
But Amara’s.
He’d seen enough of her handwriting at the police station to recognise it.
Curiosity won, and because he was a nosy prick—which came with being a cop—he straightened it out, and grinned when he spotted the title:
The Not-to-Love List
‘Hello…’ Porter leaned against the fridge, beer in one hand, the paper in the other.Simple layout.Neat handwriting.No hearts or swirls, just bullet points and brutal clarity—very Amara.
He should have thrown it in the bin.
Hmm…
Instead, he took another sip of his beer and decided to dissect it—Montrose style.
RULE #1?: Not too good-looking.
Porter squinted at the words, then murmured to the empty room.‘So… average at best?… Brutal.’
He took another sip of his beer.
‘Guess that rules out anyone with a sixpack and a modelling contract.But good news for the rest of us blue-collar battlers.’
RULE #2: No game playing: say what you mean and mean what you say.
He nodded, ticking an invisible box in the air.‘Fair.Boring, but fair.’
RULE #3: No secrets: no hidden past, and no cryptic text messages from old friends late at night.
Porter smirked.‘Right, so no burner phones or classified cases?Well, that’s me out.’
RULE #4: Must be financially independent: no more men who only want in on the Montrose bank account.
Porter let out a low whistle.‘Deadset, how rich are you, Montrose?’
RULE #5: No one who wants me to change.If he doesn’t like me the way I am, he’s not the one.
Taking a slow swig of beer, he muttered, ‘I hear you, sister,’ giving another approving nod to her list.
RULE #6: No cowboys, stockmen, or rodeo riders: because of Cowboy Craig—too much flirting drama.And Stone is just a high-flying cowboy!
Porter arched a brow.‘No stockmen?Bit limiting, isn’t it, Montrose?’Considering she worked in the middle of cattle country.
Even knowing this might come back to bite him, he did it anyway—laid the list on the countertop, plucked up his pen, and scribbled under rule six:
What about lawmen?Asking for a friend.
Onwards and down the page he went to her next rule:
RULE #7: No commitment-phobes: if you’re not ready to stay, don’t waste my time.
