by Amy Andrews
Talk nerdy to me
Samuel Tucker is absolutely the last person scientist Cassie Barclay would ever date. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but he’s also far too cocky for his own good and thinks that Pi is a tasty afternoon treat. So when he asks her to dance at her friend Reese’s non-wedding she’s wondering why on earth she says yes!
Tuck is used to people assuming he’s all brawn and no brain, and amuses himself by winding Cassie up. But when he finally takes her to bed, suddenly it’s Tuck who can show Cassie a thing or two! Can he convince her that love and sex have nothing to do with logic and everything to do with chemistry?
SNEAK PEEK EXCERPT FROM
GIRL LEAST LIKELY TO MARRY
“Are you okay?”
Cassie nodded automatically, but she doubted she’d ever be okay again. She felt like she’d just had a lobotomy. Could a kiss render you stupid?
“I think I should go now. Unless...” He dropped his gaze to her swollen mouth.
Cassie shook her head and took a step back. No unless. Go, yes, just go. He’d turned her into a dunce.
Tuck smiled at her dazed look. It was nice to have left an impression on Little-Miss-Know-It-All. “Good night, Cassiopeia.”
Cassie was incapable of answering him. She feared she’d been struck mute. As well as dumb. She watched him swagger to his room opposite hers, slot his key in, open his door. He turned as he stepped into his room.
“I’ll be right over here. If you need a cup of shhu-gar.”
Cassie had no pithy comeback as his door clicked quietly shut.
Dear Reader,
I’m so excited to be involved in my very first Harlequin KISS continuity and to have worked with three authors who are not only wonderful writers but absolutely fabulous women! Writing a set of linked stories especially when each writer is separated by vast amounts of land and/or ocean can be challenging, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say we had a lot of fun during our online brainstorming sessions. I know for me there was something beautifully symbiotic about the depth of friendship between our four fictional friends and the way our friendships deepened over the course of the continuity.
I had a great time writing Girl Least Likely to Marry, affectionately known to us and those who follow me on Twitter as the #jock and the #geekgirl. I was very excited to be writing Cassiopeia, a bona fide Mensa-level genius. Big Bang Theory is one of my favourite TV shows and I really wanted to write a female Sheldon—although, not quite that extreme! But, I have to tell you, it was much more difficult than I ever imagined. As someone used to writing heroines with emotional depth, Cassie was a true challenge because while she had IQ to burn, her EQ was practically nonexistent. It took me quite a while to get a handle on her and I think I only really managed it by getting inside the hero’s head. Tuck, in his laid-back Texan way, totally got Cassie. And getting to know him gave me a way to understand her.
I think out of all my heroes, I love Tuck the most. And that’s not just because he’s the kind of guy that belongs on a billboard advertising underwear (you know the kind, right?) but because his utterly alpha competitive spirit refused to let Cassie settle for the half-life she’d accepted as her lot.
I really hope you enjoy Cassie and Tuck’s story about two people who weren’t looking for love but found it anyway!
Love, Amy
Girl
Least Likely
to Marry
Amy Andrews
ABOUT AMY ANDREWS
Amy Andrews has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chickens and two black dogs.
She loves to hear from her readers. Drop her a line at www.amyandrews.com.au.
Other Harlequin® KISS™ titles by Amy Andrews:
Driving Her Crazy
This and other titles by Amy Andrews are available in ebook format—check out www.Harlequin.com.
To Aimee Carson, Heidi Rice and Kimberly Lang. Thanks for the laughs, ladies—
it was an absolute pleasure. Lets do it again sometime!
PS. A quick thank you to Aimee and Kim
who explained to me the meaning and context of
that great American word jonesing. I am a total convert and plan on using it much, much more :-)
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Excerpt
PROLOGUE
Ten years ago, Hillbrook University campus,
upstate New York…
Cassiopeia Barclay tapped the rim of her wine glass to the other three. ‘Of course it’s not the end,’ she said, looking around at her fellow flatmates. ‘Of course it’s just the beginning. Tonight may be our last night together but not for long. We’ve got the road trip coming up soon, remember?’
The women all nodded in agreement although trust fund princess Reese looked quickly away, throwing back a hefty slug of her champagne. Gina, the Brit, followed suit, knocking her drink back with practised gusto. Southern Belle Marnie sipped regally, her good manners always on display.
Denying her Australian roots, Cassie also sipped her drink. Not because of good manners, or in deference to the expensive Dom Perignon that Reese and her Park Avenue pay cheque gave them access to—Cassie couldn’t care less if she was drinking Dom or Dr Pepper—but because everything she did was calm and measured and logical.
Why down champagne, posh or otherwise, when it only led to a hangover?
Her first ever hangover had been here in this house, with these three women, and she had no desire to repeat the experience. That was the ultimate definition of stupidity.
And Cassiopeia Barclay was far from stupid.
In fact with an IQ of one hundred and sixty-three she was officially a genius.
Their attention was returned to the nearby athletic field, in plain view of their deckchairs. The sky was starting its slow slide into evening but Hillbrook’s male track team could still easily be made out as they went through a training drill. It was a regular ritual for the ‘Awesome Foursome’, as they’d been dubbed, and Cassie joined in because these three women had been her family, accepting her social inadequacies without question, and they enjoyed it.
But, try as she might, she didn’t get the fascination with either sport or the men who played it. Most of them were no doubt here on some trumped-up scholarship and Cassie found that pretty annoying. Why was it that there was no money to support scientific research but somehow there was always cash for another track field?
Gina sighed as a particularly buff guy leaned over, touching his toes, exposing the backs of his legs, his shorts riding up to reveal a peek at one taut buttock. ‘Now, that is a well put together arse,’ she murmured, her British accent even more pronounced in this very Am
erican setting.
Marnie rolled her eyes. The blonde from the Deep South was as different from the Englishwoman as was possible. She was petite and perky, with an innocence about her that stuck out like a sore thumb next to Gina’s brash sexuality. But Cassie had seen Marnie come out of her shell over the course of the year, much like her, and a lot of that was owed to Gina and Reese’s differing but vibrant influences.
Reese smiled at Gina indulgently. She’d been doing that a lot this last week, Cassie realised belatedly. Smiling. Gina’s assertion earlier that it had something to do with a certain Marine had been confirmed by Reese’s startling confession that said Marine was the one.
Imagine that! After a week!
Sometimes Cassie felt like an alien in their midst, and it was nothing to do with her Australian accent. Even at nineteen they all seemed sophisticated women of the world next to her, introverted geek girl—Marnie included.
Reese had just dropped the bombshell that she’d fallen in love at first sight, Gina was slowly working her way through the entire eligible—and not so eligible—male population of the United States, and Marnie was sighing over her friend’s big white virginal wedding.
It was utterly perplexing, but also interesting—from a behavioural science perspective. How much more could her friends achieve if they locked up their hormones and concentrated on their chosen careers like she had? Still, these three women had opened her up to a whole world that she hadn’t been aware of before, and all new experiences were beneficial.
Back home in Australia she’d led a largely solitary existence. Either at home with her parents, shut in her room and absorbed in some research or other, or at university doing the same thing.
There’d been no girlfriends. No boyfriends. No late-night drinking or ogling track teams.
But here at Hillbrook her ‘gal pals’—yes, according to Gina they were gal pals—hadn’t taken her social awkwardness, lack of fashion sense or inept dancing as an excuse. They’d dragged her to nightclubs and frat parties, and to bars where they served cocktails by the jug and Karaoke was King. They’d loaned her dresses and shoes, done her make-up and styled her hair and, most importantly, they hadn’t taken no for an answer.
She had a lot to thank them for. She would look back on her year in the US as a social experiment, with her as the subject, from which she had collected some very useful data.
‘One day, Gina,’ Reese said, interrupting Cassie’s train of thought, ‘you are going to fall hard and fast for some guy, and I hope I’m going to be there to tell you I told you so!’
Marnie raised her glass. ‘Cheers to that,’ she said.
Gina scoffed in her very English way with a toss of her glossy dark hair. ‘To hell with that.’
The others laughed as they returned to their regularly scheduled programming—the track team. Cassie followed suit, smiling at Gina’s running commentary but perplexed by it at the same time. She was deeply thankful that jocks did nothing for her and that she was far too rational to be swayed by hormones.
Sure, as a scientist she understood that human beings were under the influence of their biological imperative to mate, but she also believed in head over heart. Certainly Gina wouldn’t be in the quandary she was now if she’d been thinking with her brain instead of her ovaries.
Sleeping with Marnie’s brother Carter last week had really rattled Gina. Cassie was generally fairly oblivious to nuances, but she’d have had to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss Gina’s edginess. Quite why Gina was edgy Cassie had no idea. What was done was done. And it wasn’t Gina who was engaged to be married, was it?
Which was exactly what she’d told Gina when she’d confessed the transgression to her last week and Gina had sworn her to secrecy.
It was at times like this that Cassie was glad she’d vowed never to fall victim to love. How could she when she simply didn’t believe in it? And, even if she did, she didn’t have time for the messy, illogical minefield of it all. Not while there was a big universe to study which was infinitely more fascinating than any man.
A shout of triumph from the track brought Cassie back into the conversation flowing around her.
‘Mmm, that’s right, my lovely blond Adonis.’ Gina’s commentary continued. ‘Give your mate a hug, then.’ The men complied, as if Gina had yanked their strings. ‘Ding-dong,’ she cooed on a happy sigh, and Marnie and Reese laughed.
Cassie watched the display of male camaraderie, rolling her eyes as they high-fived and man-hugged. They reminded her of gorillas. Next they’d be beating their chests and picking nits off each other. One thing was for sure: should she ever drop a hundred IQ points and end up with some man he would never be of the jock variety.
‘Tell us about the stars, Cassie.’
Cassie glanced over at Marnie, whose head was dropped over the back of her chair as she pointed to the first star just visible in the sky. ‘That’s Venus, right…evening star?’
Cassie smiled. Marnie was forever talking about the night skies over Savannah and had loved having her own personal astronomer at her beck and call. ‘Yep,’ she confirmed, looking at the pinprick of light in the velvet sky.
‘Will we be able to see Cassiopeia tonight?’ she asked.
Cassie shook her head. ‘It’s too light here. When we’re on our road trip we’ll stop at the Barringer Crater in Arizona. We’ll sleep under the stars and I’ll show you then.’
It was the main reason Cassie was going on the trip. Time with her gal pals would be great, but she’d always wanted to see the crater site formed when a meteorite had ploughed into the earth fifty thousand years ago, and that was her priority.
‘You speak for yourself,’ Gina butted in. ‘The only stars the Park Avenue Princess and I are sleeping under are of the five-star variety. Isn’t that right, Reese?’
Reese nodded. ‘Er…yes,’ she said, looking quickly away and taking another decent slug of her champers.
‘Carter proposed to Missy under the stars at the Grand Canyon. Isn’t that romantic?’ she said, her voice dreamy. ‘Our families were on holiday together. Missy and I stayed up all night talking about how wonderful it was.’
‘Bless their hearts,’ Gina said, mimicking Marnie’s Southern drawl.
It had taken Cassie a few months of Gina teasing Marnie over the quaint Southern phrase to realise it could be used to mock as well as to sweeten. Glancing at Gina’s tense profile, she guessed this was one of the mocking times.
‘Missy wants a star theme running through the reception,’ Marnie continued ignoring Gina’s sarcasm. ‘She’s spending a small fortune on this gorgeous black drapery that billows from the ceiling and twinkles with thousands of tiny lights…’
Cassie didn’t really understand why you’d spend good money on creating the illusion of a starry sky when the real thing was up there for free. It certainly didn’t seem to be very effective budgeting. But weddings were as much a mystery to her as the notion of love, so she gave up trying to figure it out.
She was just going to lounge here with her friends and watch the stars come out.
One last time.
ONE
A decade on…
Cassiopeia watched Tuck… whatever his last name was…of quarterback fame swagger in the general direction of their table with his long, loose-limbed gait. Somehow his big, blond athleticism seemed to dominate the vast expanse of the open tent, with its delicate swathes of royal blue draped across the ceili
ngs and trailing gently to the deck. But then she had a feeling he’d probably dominate any setting.
He made slow progress. Men stopped him to slap him on the back and shake his hand. Women stopped him to bat their eyelashes and put their hands on him. He took both in his stride, shrugging off their adoration with a wide, easy Shucks, I ain’t nuthin’ grin. The man was so laid-back Cassie was surprised he managed to stay vertical.
Very different from the man she’d watched only yesterday playing a very physical game of one-on-one basketball with Reese’s ex-Marine ex-husband Mason.
Reese had left the party that had originally been intended to be her wedding to Dylan to go after Mason, but her instructions to the remaining members of the Awesome Foursome had been clear—make sure no one gets into a fight.
Reese had deliberately sat Tuck, the jilted groom’s best man, next to her—away from Gina—to prevent such a calamity.
With Tuck firmly on Team Dylan and Gina, whose favourite pastime was baiting people, on Team Reese, Cassie could already tell it was going to be a long night.
‘He sure is pretty,’ Gina murmured with relish as she tracked his progress.
A very long night.
Cassie didn’t really see the attraction. But then she’d never been a slave to her hormones. She just wasn’t programmed that way.
Sure, Tuck Whats-his-name had all the features that the female of the species looked for in a mate. He was tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped. She couldn’t see the delineation of the muscles in his chest tonight, although they were obviously there beneath his charcoal suit. She knew from his shirtless one-on-one yesterday that they were plentiful and very well developed.
And, in the animal world, muscles equalled strength.