by Kennedy Fox
“Five hundred and sixty-nine dollars!” April shouts from the front table, standing and waving her arms around as if she’s a contestant on The Price is Right. Good lord.
Jessica chuckles. “Alright, do I hear six hundred?”
“Seven hundred!” another girl calls from the back. Son of a bitch.
I look over at April who’s digging more money out of her purse. “Eight hundred!”
“Nine hundred,” the other girl yells.
“Damn, ladies.” Jessica whistles. “Current bid is at nine hundred. Do I hear a thousand?”
“One thousand, forty-two dollars!” April shouts, and I can tell she’s at her max bid.
The girl in the back remains silent, and I know this is it. April wants this date so damn bad that I almost feel terrible for what I’m about to do. Then again, if I do this, then Evan will owe me, and that thought alone makes me shiver with excitement.
“Do I hear one thousand two hundred?” Jessica asks. “Going once…”
Kiera narrows her eyes at me, waiting to see if I’m going to bid or not. I look over at April, and she looks so damn hopeful. Then I look up at Evan whose lips are in a firm line with a tortured expression that cracks me up, but I hold back the smile, so he doesn’t think he’s going to win.
“Going twice…”
I swallow, jerking my hand up. “Fifteen hundred!” I shout louder than I meant to, and all eyes turn toward me.
“Sold for fifteen hundred dollars!” Jessica announces.
April gives me a look that says she might murder me, and I give her a shrug with a grin. Healthy competition is good for her, but before I can say anything to her, she grabs her bag and storms out.
“You seriously had me worried up there,” Evan says from behind me, taking me by surprise when I feel his hot breath against my cheek. “Thought you were going to leave me hanging high and dry.” Goose bumps form over my skin the closer his body gets to mine.
“I almost did,” I tease, turning my head, which is a bad idea because our lips are now only inches apart. “You owe me a fifteen hundred dollar date now.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure you get your money’s worth.” He winks, before taking the seat next to mine.
“Dylan Hart. You’re up next, baby.” Jessica’s voice pulls me out of my daze, and I watch as Dylan struts up the stage in a fitted suit. He’s tall and lean, wearing a cowboy hat and boots. “If any of you ladies are brave enough to bid on my man, you better be fifty and older.”
The crowd chuckles.
“Dylan’s a hardworking rancher with a six-pack that makes you want to lick honey right off him. His dark hair and chiseled jawline will make you swoon in two seconds flat. And don’t even get me started on his strong, large hands, ladies. All that muscle you see is earned from hard labor, and his calluses feel amazing roaming down your bare back.”
“Jessica!” Dylan scolds, walking over and spanking her right on the ass.
“What? I’m just stating facts.” She giggles.
“Baby, my grandma is here,” he tells her, and the crowd laughs because neither realizes we can hear them on the mic.
“Okay, anyway. Let’s start the bidding.” Jessica positions Dylan in the center of the stage. “I know what he’s worth, ladies, but what are y’all willing to pay for a date with my man? Let’s start at one hundred dollars!”
The room is painfully silent as no one dares to cross Jessica. It’s almost comical, but I feel bad, considering men and their egos.
“One hundred!” a woman finally calls out, and everyone’s head turns.
“Thanks, Aunt Katie.” Dylan groans, blushing, making the rest of us laugh at his expense. The bidding only goes a few rounds, and his mom ends up winning at three hundred and fifty dollars.
A couple of ranch hands are auctioned off before Jessica announces the final bachelor. I already know it’s Jackson by the flock of women rushing to the front of the room.
“Geez,” I say, looking at them all.
Kiera rolls her eyes, shaking her head.
“This is where the real moneymaker is,” Jessica says. “Ladies, get ready for Jackson Bishop.”
They hoot and holler as if this is a male strip joint, which isn’t too far off, considering how many women are standing at the stage waving their arms around. Jackson walks down the stage with a shit-eating grin, wearing a nice suit that fits him in all the right places. You can tell he doesn’t dress up often, but he sure as hell knows how to fill it out.
“Six feet, three inches of solid perfection, Jackson’s a horse trainer who works hard and plays even harder. He’s wild in and out of the bedroom, and if you’re looking for a good time, Jackson’s the major of Wham-Bam-Thank-you-Ma’am, so don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Jessica quips.
Chuckling at her MC humor, I lean toward Kiera. “I feel like Jessica and I would be great friends,” I tell her, and she nods her head in agreement.
“I don’t know her really well, but from what I’ve heard, she’s really good for Dylan.”
“Persistent,” Evan adds himself to our conversation. When I turn and look at him, he continues, “Basically mauled Dylan the first time they met and hooked her claws into him.”
I shrug. “Sometimes that’s what it takes.”
“We’re going to start the bidding at four hundred; otherwise, we’re going to be here all night. Do I hear four hundred?”
A parade of women yell, and I know for sure they weren’t kidding about him. The bidding goes back and forth for what feels like forever when finally it ends at two thousand five hundred.
“Sweet Jesus,” I mutter when it’s finally over. “I was waiting for clothes to start coming off soon.”
Kiera snorts. “Give it a few minutes.”
Mrs. Bishop comes back to the mic and thanks Jessica while everyone applauds. She announces the total amount raised from the event and how it’s more this year than the previous one, which makes the room erupt into applause.
“Six years, baby!” Jackson comes out shouting, holding his arm up in victory as if he’s holding up a trophy. I shake my head at his antics and wonder how the hell he and John can be twins. They’re so different, it’s comical at times.
“I’m going to say good night to Trent, then we can go,” Kiera says as I stand and push my chair in.
Nodding, I dig into my wallet for my checkbook and write out my donation. Evan watches me with a smirk and an amused look.
“Yes?” I arch a brow.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?” I ask, tilting my head down to sign my name.
“What panties you’ll be wearing on our date. I think I’ll start a collection.”
I look up at him and scowl. “The only panties you’re going to add to that collection are ones you go and buy yourself.”
I rip the check out and hand it over to the volunteer who’s collecting the winning bids.
“We’ll see.” He winks.
“You’re so full of yourself,” I say with a laugh, unable to stay mad at him when he gives me that cocky grin of his.
“It’s called confidence, sweetheart. But, if I recall, you were full of me not that long ago, so don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.” His crass words make me want to smack that smug smirk right off his face.
Such an ass.
The next morning on my way to work, I stop at The Grind Café and pick up two coffees. I normally bring a travel mug from home for my commute, but I woke up and realized I was all out of coffee beans, causing me to spew a variety of curse words.
Knowing how Evan likes his coffee, I order one for him, too, and decide to play nice today since our date is coming up. However, if he decides to be an asshole, I can threaten to throw it at his groin instead.
Though I wouldn’t because it’s a sin to waste gourmet coffee.
“Good morning.” Veronica greets me the moment she sees me. I swear that woman never sleeps. I’d almost bet she’s here more than I am,
which is saying a lot since we work on rotation for ten to fourteen days straight.
“It is a good morning, isn’t it?” I smile wide, bringing the coffee to my lips, then taking a sip. I notice her eyes widen as she looks at my cup. “Something wrong?” I ask her curiously.
“Oh um, no. Sorry.” She waves it off and plasters on a smile.
Okay, that was odd.
I can sense Evan before I see him, and when he walks up behind me, I feel his hand on the small of my back. “Since you brought me coffee, I won’t even yell at you for being late.”
Turning my head to face him, I roll my eyes. “Pretty presumptuous in thinking it’s for you.” I pick up the cup and hand it over to him. He flashes me a wink before tilting it up to his lips.
“Black,” he confirms with a knowing grin. He takes another sip, and his brows pull together as if something’s wrong. “This tastes like…” He doesn’t finish his sentence before shifting the cup and reading the logo. His eyes widen just like Veronica’s did, and now I know I’m missing something.
“What’s wrong?” I feel like I’m in the twilight zone with Veronica and Evan’s reactions. “Is it a bad coffee shop or something? Are the owners republican or puppy murderers or something?” When Veronica lowers her eyes, I know it’s deeper than that.
“Nothing,” Evan clips, swallowing hard. “Thanks.” He sets the coffee cup down and walks off before I can say another word.
“Veronica,” I whisper her name in a plea. “Can you please explain what I missed?”
“It’s not my story to tell,” she says, pursing her lips together, and I’m worried she’s not going to give me anything until she leans forward and continues. “But a woman named Alicia worked there, and he went there every morning before work. They grew close from what I understand, and one morning, she was brought in from a car accident.”
“Oh my gosh.” I inhale sharply, feeling remorseful that I basically just handed him a reminder of those events.
“He’d been running late that morning and skipped grabbing his coffee. A couple of hours later, she arrived and was in really bad shape. Long story short, Evan went above and beyond to save her life, but it was too late.”
“She died,” I say, my voice flat and sad. “Wow.” Is that why Evan shuts people out and has a brooding nature to anyone who tries to get close to him? Perhaps. But as doctors, losing patients is part of the job. Unless there’s a connection that makes it more than just personal.
“And not that he ever came out and said it, but I’m pretty sure he liked her. Evan’s always been all work and no play, but every morning, he’d come in with his cup of coffee, smilin’ like a fool, and it set the tone for the entire day. After she died, he stopped going in there completely, and his whole demeanor changed. He blamed himself for a long time, and I think a part of him still does.”
Chapter Seventeen
EVAN
I step out of the shower, quickly dry off, then wrap a towel around my waist. As I walk to my bedroom, drips of water fall from my hair and run down my chest. Standing in front of the clothes I laid out across the bed, I wonder if I’m overthinking this.
It’s been years since I’ve been on a real date, but it feels like decades. Medical school and focusing on my residency took most of my time, and when I finally found the courage to ask a girl out, the opportunity passed me by. I deserve the title Mr. Undateable. I think about Alicia for a moment, and sadness rushes over me. It’s hard to know when it’s our time to go, but I know for a damn fact her life was cut way too short.
The day after the bachelor auction when Emily brought me that cup of coffee, I froze. Tasting that coffee and seeing the logo on that cup dug up old, painful memories. I’ve avoided that place for years, and I’d done a pretty good job until then. I shouldn’t have reacted that way, but I’m human. Sometimes it’s difficult to be emotionless when a wound has been partially reopened. Fortunately, she let it go and didn’t ask questions. I know I owe her some kind of explanation, but I’m not ready to go down that road yet.
It’s almost been two weeks since the bachelor auction since we had to wait until our next day off. I pulled some strings so we both have a later shift tomorrow. Instead of going in bright ass early, we’ll start midmorning instead. Seeing Emily every day at work and knowing this night was approaching had us both anxious. With private glances and stolen kisses, she’d tease me and work me up, push me into the supply closet and kiss the hell out of me, then walk out, leaving me to suffer from a major case of blue balls.
I haven’t told her what I have planned for tonight other than I’m picking her up around seven, which is in forty-five minutes.
To say I’m rusty when it comes to dating is the understatement of the century. We’re technically doing this because of a fundraiser, but it feels much more than that. It’s personal at this point. Considering I owe her a massive favor for bidding on me in the first place and saving me from my number one crazed fan, I’m sure Emily’s loving every minute of this. Though she’ll never admit it, I think she intended to bid on me anyway.
The past few auctions, I’ve gone out with women who were twice my age. We’d have an early dinner, conversation that always revolved around church and their grandkids, and then it was over. This, on the other hand, is much different and directly conflicts with our unspoken agreement that what we have stays private and between us only.
After Emily won, it encouraged Mama to pry, which complicates things. As a joke, I asked if I could double the bid that Emily made and go on a date with myself. Mama slapped me upside the head for even insinuating I didn’t want to fulfill my end of the bargain. She’s called and asked a handful of questions about us working together, and I politely asked her to stop. If Mama’s already acting this way before the date, it won’t be long until the whole town’s talking about Emily and me. It’s exactly how the rumor mills start around here. Considering we were seen at the wedding together and then she eagerly and so easily outbid April, they probably already have.
After I tuck my button-up shirt into my slacks and snap my belt closed, I put on my shoes. I’m even wearing Oxfords for her. The realization that I actually care about this date hits me pretty hard. Emily Bell is going to ruin me and everything I’ve tried so hard to avoid. She just came barreling into my life so easily, and now she’s inescapable. She’s at work, outside of work, and in my fantasies—the woman is dangerous.
I finish drying my hair with the towel, put on my watch, and check my phone. My brothers have done nothing but antagonize me all day about this. Baiting and taunting me about my Mystery Girl and if I’d be able to seal the deal like last time. I’m getting ready to send them all a middle finger emoji and call it a day. Though for me to pull this date off, considering I’ve worked all week, I had to get their help because the truth is, I’m not going to half ass this. Even made them swear and cross their damn hearts they wouldn’t tell Mama or Kiera. Instead of being a dick, I don’t respond with a finger salute and instead shove my phone back in my pocket, grab my keys, then head to my truck.
As soon as I step outside, I realize how damn hot and humid it is and roll my sleeves to my elbows as I walk to the driver’s side door. I back out of the garage feeling both excited and slightly nervous. Before I pick her up, I stop at a flower shop on the way and grab a fresh bouquet of roses.
“Gettin’ your mama some flowers?” the owner, Mary, asks. Occasionally on my days off, I’d bring Mama fresh flowers because I know how much she loves them, but not today.
“No, ma’am.” I smile.
“Oh, for a special lady then?” With a smirk, she wraps them in white tissue paper and hands them over.
“Something like that.” I shoot her a wink and pay my bill.
Fifteen minutes later, I pull up to Emily’s condo and see her rental car. My heart rate increases as I grab the flowers and walk toward her door. I swallow hard, then knock. After a moment, Emily opens the door, and she’s so fucking beautiful it takes my bre
ath away. Being the prowess she is, Emily looks down, causing her dark hair to fall into her eyes. It takes everything I have not to kiss the fuck out of her right then. The black dress hangs off her shoulders but hugs her tightly around her waist. My eyes gaze down her body and long, sleek legs until they land on her black fuck-me heels. I’m tempted to run my lips across her skin and skip dinner completely. If how she’s dressed is any indication of how much she plans to tease me, then I’m already fucked.
“Hey,” she finally says, looking at me from head to toe with a smirk on her face. “You look really nice.”
“Hi.” I step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then handing her the flowers. “For me? It’s almost like a real date,” she teases, but I can tell she’s genuinely happy about them. She steps aside and allows me to walk inside.
“Well, I have to make sure you get your money’s worth and all. Otherwise, my mama will kick my ass. Plus, I kinda owe you.”
She laughs, but I’m not joking about Mama.
Instantly, we fall back into our typical routine of teasing each other, and my nerves melt away. I watch her as she walks through the living room and into the kitchen to grab a vase. Images of me ripping her dress off assault my mind before I shake them away. This is more than just one night, and I’m not going to jeopardize it by not being able to control myself around her. Though that tight little number is making things really hard.
I watch as she fills the vase with water and places the roses inside. “Thank you for these. They’re really beautiful.”
“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman,” I tell her with a smile, and I’m not remotely joking. “But before we leave, you might want to pack a change of clothes and a jacket or something,” I add.
She tilts her head and steps from behind the island. “You don’t like my dress?”
“I fucking love it and have already fantasized about a dozen different ways I’ll peel it off your body, but for what I have planned later, you might not be too comfortable.”