Brittany laughed loudly, again. Funny how she would be in this frame of mind back then. She hated it when men didn’t look past her appearance.
Share the same hobbies—the man of my dreams must love the things I love. He must be an outdoorsman and love camping and fishing.
Devoted to his woman—I suppose I should have listed this one first since it’s more important than the others. I want a man who loves me and only me. I’m tired of guys who are players.
Brittany arched an eyebrow.Only seven?Why hadn’t she thought of more things to add to the list? Regardless, this was a good list, and even though she’d forgotten about it over the years, she still searched for the perfect man. However, she’d yet to find one who had all of these qualities. But was she really looking?
The tenth-grade memory of when she wrote this list had returned, and she smiled. The new guy in school had noticed her, and from the little she’d known about him, he had most of these attributes. But then like most guys she’d dated, this one turned out to be a total liar. Even now Brittany wondered if he’d told her anything that was the truth.
The memory deepened. Hadn’t she written another checklist right after he’d broken her heart? She rummaged through the box until she found it. On the corkboard, she had pinned this list over the first one. This list was titled,how to turn a guy off.
Be yourself. If you’re smart, then act it. Guys really hate that.
Don’t wear makeup. For some reason, most guys aren’t into women who look plain.
Keep your hair in ponytails. Guys like women with long hair.
Never wear dresses! Guys like to look at a woman’s legs, so don’t give them that chance!
Wear unflattering clothes. Clothes that are too tight on your body is also a turn-on for guys. Don’t give them the opportunity to ogle.
Never tell a guy you love him. If he loves you, let him tell you first.
Brittany bit her bottom lip, pondering the list. Perhaps this was why she hadn’t gotten a man yet. She was always herself, so she didn’t have to worry about number one. She wore make up, but it wasn’t caked on. She always kept her hair in ponytails, except for the times when she had to attend something formal, then she left it long. It was the same for dresses. She only wore those if she was forced to. Unflattering clothes? What could be more unflattering than what she wore now? She glanced down at her attire; a short-sleeve, button up blue shirt with black slacks, and the ridiculously ugly—but very practical and comfortable—shoes.
Hmm…So perhaps these types of clothes fit her too tight. They weren’t skin tight on her, but they were snug. However, she still felt very comfortable wearing them.
And the last item on the list… She was wise back then. Even now, she didn’t tell a guy she loved him before he said it first. From experience, if a guy didn’t say those three little words, then he wasn’t serious about the relationship.
She shook her head and leaned against the table. Her life was too complicated for a relationship, anyway. She just didn’t have time. Her job had been her constant companion since she’d been promoted to a detective a year ago.
Setting aside the checklist, she peered back inside the box to see if there were any fun tidbits she’d had as a teenager. Apparently, she’d been busy in her sewing class, because she’d made pillow cases and…something else that she had no idea what it was. Laughing, she shook her head. It was probably not very important—obviously.
As she dug deeper into the box, she saw another picture with an article. This had been cut out of a newspaper in the obituary section. The memory hit her full force, bringing an ache to her heart.
When she was a junior in high school, her older sister was killed by a drunk driver. Marla had just graduated college with an Associate’s degree, and she was out with four of her friends celebrating. The four of them had never made it to their party that night. Two of them were sent to the hospital in critical condition, and two of them went to the morgue, instead. Marla was one of those unlucky people.
Tears stung Brittany’s eyes and she sat on the nearest chair. Her sister had been so full of dreams, and it was all snatched away in the blink of an eye. There were a lot of things Marla could have changed about her life in order to make it better. First, she shouldn’t have found LeRoy—the worst boyfriend Marla had ever had. He was abusive—both mentally and physically. He was the reason Marla had gone to that party…and he happened to be one of the people in the car that had survived.
Brittany’s heart clenched. Marla should have read those lists Brittany had written. Perhaps her sister wouldn’t have ended up in the ground, buried six-feet under.
She glanced back at the checklist still lying on the table. Perhaps she needed to follow that list a little better. That way, she wouldn’t ever find a skank like Marla’s boyfriend.
Starting tomorrow, she was going to do her best to search for the man who would love and accept her, even though she was following the steps on this list. He was out there somewhere, she just knew it. Hopefully, she’d be able to find him before she was eighty years old.
She rubbed her neck and glanced at the clock on the microwave again. It was still too early to go to bed, but soaking in the tub sounded Heavenly.
After putting her box of memorabilia away, she started her bath, throwing soothing bath beads into the very warm water. She quickly shucked off her clothes and climbed inside. A deep sigh of satisfaction ripped through her. Closing her eyes, she sank lower and laid her head against the wall of the tub.
The room was quiet; only the occasional splash from the water against the tub disturbed the silence. Her mind could relax and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything. So then, why wasn’t it happening that way? Instead, her mind raced from one idea to another. Every time Austin Reeder’s face appeared in her head, she quickly ushered it out, allowing another thought to enter. Yet, just like a yo-yo, Austin’s face always bounced back to taunt.
She was going to have to meet him tomorrow, accidentally, according to Kurt. Shivers ran over her body, and she rubbed her arms. However, she couldn’t tell if the shivers were because she didn’t want to see him again, but knew it had to happen—or was it because she couldn’t stop thinking about the passionate way he’d kissed her?
If she saw him again so soon, would he want a repeat of their steamy kiss? As strong willed as she was, she honestly wasn’t sure if she’d be able to tell him no.
