Prejudice Meets Pride by Rachael Anderson
After years of pinching pennies and struggling to get
through art school, Emma Makie’s hard work finally pays off with the offer of a
dream job. But when tragedy strikes, she has no choice but to make a
cross-country move to Colorado Springs to take temporary custody of her two
nieces. She has no money, no job prospects, and no idea how to be a mother to
two little girls, but she isn’t about to let that stop her. Nor is she about to
accept the help of Kevin Grantham, her handsome new neighbor, who seems to
think she’s incapable of doing anything on her own.
Fun, compelling, and romantic,Prejudice Meets Pride is
the story of a guy who thinks he has it all figured out and a girl who isn’t
afraid to show him that he doesn’t. It’s about learning what it means to trust,
figuring out how to give and to take, and realizing that not everyone gets to
pick the person they fall in love with. Sometimes, love picks them.
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Excerpt
Every part of Kevin screamed at him not to take it. He
didn’t want it or need it. Why couldn’t she let it go and forget about it? Why
wouldn’t she let him ease some of her burdens? He wanted to—so much. It was
killing him how much. But then he looked from the envelope to her eyes, and in
that instant, he knew he couldn’t turn down the money. She needed him to accept
it.
So he did, though he hated himself for it. To him,
forty bucks was pocket change. To her, it was a weeks’ worth of groceries.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Thank you for loaning it to me.”
“Anytime.” His eyes captured and held hers. “I mean it,
Emma. Anytime.”
“I know,” she said softly.
That would have to be enough for now. Kevin fingered
the envelope, wishing there was something he could do. Something she’d let him
do. “Would you like to borrow my lawnmower?” he asked tentatively, worried the
question would make her go all ape on him again. “It works.”
Emma’s hand covered her mouth, muffling a strangled
sound. Was that a sob or a snicker? Kevin couldn’t tell. Please don’t
let her be crying. He never knew what to say or do when a woman got
all weepy.
The sound came again, and Emma’s eyes filled with
suppressed humor. Whew. It was a snicker. She was trying not to laugh. Did that
mean he could press his luck?
He gestured toward his mower. “Or, I could always
mow it for—”
“No.” And just like that, all traces of humor were
gone. “I’ll mow my own lawn, thanks. Then I’ll clean it up, refill it with gas,
and return it to you in better shape than before. Because that’s what you do
when you borrow something.” It sounded rehearsed—a lesson ingrained in her by
parents or someone else. “And then I’ll find a way to repay you for everything
else you’ve done for me. Because I hate—hate—being in your debt.”
Kevin stepped forward and rested his hands on Emma’s
shoulders, still clutching the envelope. He shook her shoulders lightly until
those beautiful gray eyes met his. “Emma, you don’t owe me anything.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes—”
“No, you don’t,” he said firmly, then held the envelope
in front of her face. “As far as I’m concerned, this makes us square.”
She didn’t try to say anything this time, only
continued to stare at him with eyes that he could drown in. He lowered his hand
from her mouth and shoved the envelope in the back pockets of his jeans, where
he felt another envelope containing the art gallery tickets.
He pulled them out. “And speaking of not owing me
anything, I happen to have two tickets for some big art gallery show tonight in
Denver. They were given to me and didn’t cost a dime,” he quickly added. “Would
you like to go?”
Her eyes clouded in confusion. “With you?”
No, with Sam or even Becky. Anyone
but him. He was taking Nicole out tonight,
not Emma. Nicole. If
only his heart would stop pounding on his chest to say,
“Yeah. With me.” The
words were out before he could stop them. “I can see if Sam’s available to
watch the girls.”
“You mean like a date?” Emma said.
Did he mean that? Kevin wasn’t sure. Everything that
had seemed so clear moments before suddenly became murky and garbled. “How
about we call it two friends hanging out? Something tells me you could really
use a break.”
The confusion left her eyes, and she frowned. “Great.
So now I’m the charity case again.”
Worried that he’d inadvertently turned up the heat on a
pot that had only just begun to simmer, Kevin amended, “I meant a date. It’s
like a date.”
Author Rachael Anderson
A USA Today bestselling author, Rachael Anderson is the
mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending
guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises
tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make
homemade bread, which she is really good at eating.
Author Links:
How
about one more Excerpt…
“You owe me,” Kevin teased, watching her closely for a reaction.
Guilt appeared first, followed by resignation. She
placed her cool hand on his arm. “Would you settle for a thank you? That seems
to be all I ever say to you, but I don’t have much else to offer.” She looked
so tired, defeated even, as though the rigid strength he’d glimpsed earlier was
all used up. What had happened? More than ever, he wanted to pull her into his
arms and try to coax some of it back. What was it about her that drew him to
her? That made her look beautiful, even next to Nicole, and cause Kevin to miss
her when she wasn’t around? Why was his heart suddenly racing like a teenager?
“‘Thank you’ works,” he said, his voice husky.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly before
wilting. She dropped her hand and clasped her fingers together. “Before I lose
my nerve, I, uh—need to ask you something.”
When she said nothing more, Kevin prodded, “Yes?”
“I was, uh, just wondering if—” Her lips clamped shut
as though she couldn’t force herself to say the words. Her fingers fidgeted,
and she couldn’t stand still. It was almost comical watching her fight whatever
inner battle was going on in her mind.
“Out with it, Emma,” Kevin said as he fought back a
smile.
Her eyes met his for a brief moment before looking down
at the floor. “Is that job offer still on the table?” she said in a rush, still
looking at her feet.
Anxiety flared in Kevin’s gut for a moment, then
quieted almost as quickly. Not only was Emma intelligent and confident, but she
was strong and good. She’d do fine.
“Yes,” he said firmly. “The offer is definitely still
on the table.”
Hopeful eyes turned up to his—eyes brimming with
moisture. She threw her arms around Kevin and hugged him tight. For a few
shocked moments, he stood there, wondering what to do. Then he wrapped his arms
around her the way he’d wanted to do earlier. As she sniffled into his shirt,
he rested his chin on her head. Her hair smelled lightly of cherry blossoms,
and her body felt soft and strong at the same time. He didn’t want her to pull
away.
But she did eventually. Her eyes were bright with a
mixture of defeat and relief. Kevin knew it had cost her a lot to ask him that,
yet she’d done it. And he knew exactly who she’d done it for.
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