Bachelor for Hire (Bachelor Auction #1)

by Charlene Sands

  “Code, I want to see your face now,” she said softly.

  He rolled her over and set her down on the bed. Her eyes gleaming, she roped her arms around his neck and nodded. He pushed inside her again and heard her softly whimper his name. He knew then, she was as ready as he was. He quickened the pace, her rapid breathing matching his and then the dam burst and he watched Hayley’s face, the pure pleasure erupt on her expression as he drove them as high as they could possibly go. She opened her mouth to soft screams and Code made guttural sounds.

  The release wracked their bodies. In unison, they shuddered. And came down to earth slowly, wrapped in each other’s arms. Code fought emotions wanting to ruin this moment. He fought feelings and memories and refused to acknowledge that Hayley Dawn was anything more than a temporary blip on his female radar.

  He wasn’t that much a fool to fall for her. He wasn’t going to put himself in a position to have her walk out on him again, which was what would surely happen. Hayley had a full life outside of Marietta. She had a career and people. The reminder blocked any further notions from entering his mind.

  He kissed the top of her head. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “No. I was…Code?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m glad it was with you.”

  “What was, Hayles?”

  But he knew.

  “All of it,” she said in a sweet voice that tugged at his heart in ten different ways. “Talking to you in the clearing. Making love under the sun. Riding horses. And now this.”

  Shit.

  Code couldn’t lie. He couldn’t block out her words, no matter how hard he tried. Emotions rocked and rolled and his head was beginning to ache. The truth was, he couldn’t imagine her with any man but him. So when he said, “Yeah, me too.”

  He hated that he meant it.

  Chapter Six

  “First off, you always treat a gun as if it’s loaded. Never assume it’s not,” Code said, standing beside her, holding a semiautomatic pistol in his hand. They were about fifty yards behind the cabin, well away from the horses that might get spooked by gunfire.

  Hayley had taken a morning ride with Code, her butt absorbing the brunt of the saddle again and holding up a little better than yesterday. Now, staring at the black metal weapon in Code’s hand, she’d take a bruised behind and a riding lesson over learning how to shoot any day. She’d asked for this. And she wanted to learn. Yet, until now, she didn’t realize how intimidating it would be.

  “The next rule is to always keep your finger away from the trigger. Until you’re ready to use it.”

  A chill ran down her spine. The thought of actually using the weapon played havoc with her mind. She wouldn’t go within a mile of the trigger, unless…

  “When holding your weapon, always point it in a safe direction. So, where would that be, Hayley. If I put this gun in your hand, where would you point it?”

  She inhaled a deep breath and pointed away from them, to an area isolated and open, away from shrubs and trees where someone might walk up. “I’d point it there.”

  “Right. That’s the safest direction, in terms of this lesson. The next rule is pretty doggone important. Never shoot your weapon unless you’re willing to destroy your target. Because, if you do it right, that’s exactly what’ll happen. Got that?”

  She took a hard swallow and nodded. “Yes.”

  Code showed her that the gun was unloaded, the magazine empty of cartridges. Then he told her to open her palm and he placed the semiautomatic pistol in her hand. “How’s it feel?”

  “Cold.” Deadly. “I think I like riding horses better.”

  She sensed him studying her, but she couldn’t look away from the piece of metal in her hand. “Until you feel comfortable holding the gun, I’m not going to teach you anything more. You can’t be afraid of it, sweetheart. Respect it, yes. Fear it, no.”

  “I’m going to be fine, Code.” She used her most convincing voice. “Tell me more.”

  He pushed breath out of his lungs as if making a tough decision. Then he continued. “This here is the safety,” he said, pointing it out. “It should be on at all times, except when you’re ready to shoot. But it’s not infallible. Think of the gun like a machine. Sometimes they break down, so again, don’t rely solely on the safety. Keeping your finger off the trigger, pointing the gun in a safe direction, all of that matters.”

  “I got it.”

  He showed her how to hold the gun in two hands, keeping her thumbs over each other and away from the slide. He stood behind her and adjusted her hands. “Are you ready to shoot?”

  “I think so.”

  “Grip the slide and pull back. Now you’re ready. You’re gonna put your finger on the trigger and squeeze.”

  “How do I aim?”

  “I’ll show you that later. But for now, center yourself, hold your hands still and give it a good squeeze. Be sure your thumbs are out of the way.”

  She squeezed the trigger and click. Nothing happened. What a relief.

  “That’s good, Hayley,” Code said, taking the pistol from her hands.

  Only a few minutes had gone by, but Hayley felt like she’d been out here for hours. Sweat beaded up on her forehead and when Code handed her a water bottle, she took a good long swig.

  After her water break, she practiced several more times and with each pass, she was becoming more and more comfortable holding the gun and taking a shot. Next Code showed her how to load the weapon. He opened a box of yellow dummy rounds and that part was easy, setting up the rounds into the magazine. She practiced that several times as well.

  “Cartridges range from twenty-two to forty-five caliber. Those numbers are based on size. For instance, this pistol is a thirty-eight, or point thirty-eight inches.”

  Hayley nodded, listening to Code’s explanation. It was clear, he had vast knowledge of the subject, but he presented it to her in a way that was easy for her to understand.

  When the lesson was over, Code gathered up his weapons and ammunition. He placed everything carefully into a knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. Then he grabbed her hand and they strolled toward the cabin. “You did real good, Hayley.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “The more I practiced, the better I felt about it. I won’t say I’m comfortable yet, but I’ll get there. Your instructions were easy to follow. You could’ve been an instructor.”

  “I was for a while. I trained recruits in the Army.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other,” he said quietly, squeezing her hand as they walked on.

  The slippage of time over an eleven year time period was a gap that would probably never be filled. It made Hayley sad to think it. She wanted to know everything about Cody Matthews since the days of his football stardom in high school and their beleaguered friendship afterward.

  Before they entered the back door of the cabin, Code did his usual eye scour of the area. Once satisfied, he unlocked the back door and allowed her entrance. Stepping in behind her, he headed straight for the fridge and grabbed a cold beer. “Want one?”

  “No thanks.”

  She leaned against the counter, and watched him swallow huge gulps, his throat working hard to push the liquid down. His raw masculinity was a big turn on for her. She liked spending her days with Cody. More than she should.

  “Tomorrow, we can practice again,” he was saying, “before we head home.”

  “Wish we could stay.” The comment slipped out of her mouth accidentally and she held back a cringe.

  Cody froze with his lips to the bottle, eyed her for a second and then polished off the remainder of his beer. The bottle went down a little hard on the counter, but his eyes softened. “No sense wishing for things that can’t be, sweetheart.”

  She smiled halfheartedly without agreeing or disagreeing with him. She didn’t want to spoil the short time they had
left. She changed the subject. “So, what would you like for dinner?”

  “Surprise me. I’ll put my gear away and then give you a hand.”

  Her choices were few, either chicken or pasta. She decided to live dangerously and use both in a dish. She liked experimenting with food and Code wasn’t a fussy eater. Pretty much, anything she put in front of him, he ate without complaint. She liked that about him. She also liked that he wasn’t so macho that he wouldn’t help out in the kitchen.

  After getting the chicken cooking on the stovetop, she began boiling water for the pasta. Code entered the room, his face washed, his dark hair wet and pushed away from his face. He had such strong lines, his nose, his jaw, the bulk of his throat. He had come to mean so much to her in such a short time. And tonight was going to be their last night together.

  “What can I do to help?” he asked.

  “Oh, uh…why don’t you chop up lettuce and tomatoes? We’ll have salad with the meal. Oh, and I think there’s a bottle of wine left. Will you open it? I like to sip as I cook.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She tried to focus on the dish she was creating, certain that Code wouldn’t touch the wine. One beer every now and then was all he’d drink. Even though this was a “date”, he didn’t let his guard down. She should be grateful that he was diligent about keeping her safe. But having him near, knowing all this would end tomorrow, weighed heavily on her mind.

  Minutes later, Code came over with the opened wine bottle in his hand. She pointed to the plastic cup beside the stove. “Fill her up, please. To the top.”

  He arched a brow and gave her a serious look, before tipping the bottle and pouring. She only shrugged away his silent question. So what if she wanted a little fortification? A little buzz would go a long way for her tonight. Her emotions were all over the place and her burgeoning confusion about her priorities in life was starting to gnaw at her. Grandma Marie would call it drowning her sorrows. She often told Hayley never to dwell on her regrets. To feel a minute of remorse, and then move forward, which was how Hayley had lived her life.

  Up until now.

  Now, things were getting complicated.

  “Give me a splash or two in the fry pan,” she said to Code, “if you don’t mind.”

  The pan sizzled as wine rained down, coating the cooking chicken and making a light sauce mingling with the juices.

  “Smells delicious.”

  “I hope so. I’m sorta of experimenting as I go.”

  “I like the way you experiment,” he said in a low drawl that made her skin prickle and her nipples harden. Lately, his innuendo was enough to coax the clothes off her back. Oh, she had it bad.

  “Why don’t you pour yourself a drink?”

  He shook his head. “No can do.”

  The wine bottle went down with a clunk and then Code’s arms snaked around her waist as she was drawn up tight against him. Her back plastered to his front, his warm breath flowed over her ear. “I don’t need any more incentive to want you. I’m pretty much a goner once your green eyes land on mine.”

  The tickle of his breath and the sweetness of his words turned her around in his arms to gaze at his beautiful face. This weekend had been magical for her and within the deep set of his eyes she found the same held true for him.

  “Code.”

  He gripped her forearms, yanked her to him and clamped his mouth over hers. He kissed her until she was robbed of breath. Until her panties grew wet. Until her brain turned to mush. He kissed her until the pungent scent of smoke rose up from the stove.

  “Damn, chicken’s burning,” Code said.

  She blinked, coming out of her sensual stupor and got busy. She turned off the flame, poured water into the pan and tried to salvage the meal by working the scrapings loose. She’d eaten blackened chicken before, but this was beyond black, it was out and out burnt. To nearly a crisp.

  Code was a human vent, waving away the smoke, as the stove’s ventilation was next to nothing.

  She shrugged at the defeat. “I think we’ve lost it.”

  “In more ways than one, sweetheart.”

  She’d meant the meal, but she caught his drift. They were hopeless together, their sexual appetite far exceeding their need for food. “We could have plain pasta.”

  “Nah,” he said, with a shake of his head. “You don’t need to be working in the kitchen, there’s too much smoke.”

  She bit her lower lip and sighed. “So how do you feel about PB and J?”

  Code pulled her away from the stove, to the opened window. “I love it.”

  “Picnic in the parlor then?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  And it would be. Code had given her a weekend of pure perfection. Burnt chicken and all.

  *

  The odd combination of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich paired with Pinot Grigio filled her belly and soothed her soul, but did nothing to keep chills from invading her body. Once the sun set below the mountains, her bedroom became a virtual ice box. No working heater for this transplanted California girl meant goose bumps and shivers. In the privacy of her room, she put on her jacket one handed with her cell phone pressed to her ear.

  “Hi, Tony. Can you make this quick. I’m freezing.”

  “You’re freezing? Is it snowing in Montana?”

  “Oh gosh, if it was snowing, my teeth would be chattering too hard to carry on a conversation. Let’s just say, I’m in a place where there’s no heat.”

  “Okay, hun. If you say so.”

  “What did you find out?”

  “The news is good. I mean to say, we’ve gone over all your fan mail for the past year. There’s nothing in there that would be considered a threat. So, you’re all clear on this end.”

  “I guess that is good news.”

  “But does that mean that someone’s out to get you from your own hometown?”

  Her shoulders lifted and dropped dramatically. “I don’t know what it means.”

  “And you’re sure you’re safe? I mean, this guy you hired, is he a professional?”

  “Yes, ex-military and a security expert. I trust him.” She didn’t exactly tell her agent that she’d bid on Code in a bachelor auction. That was TMI. All he needed to know was that she was as safe as she could possibly be, under the circumstances. “And there hasn’t been any more incidents for several days.”

  “But you’re not at your Grandmother’s house now, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. I plan to go back there tomorrow.” She put Tony on a need to know basis. He was too much of a mother hen with a tendency for nagging; so as long as he was convinced she was being protected, it would be enough to keep him from worrying.

  “That’s good. So you can finalize things there and come home ASAP.”

  “I have until the end of the month, Tone. Don’t pressure me. I’ve barely had a chance to look over my grandmother’s things. It’s…hard.” Tears welled in her eyes. Once she got back to the house, she’d have to decide what stayed, what went. And what on earth was she going to do with the house? Keep it vacated? Rent it out? Selling the house she’d grown up in wasn’t an option. Ever.

  “I’m not pressuring you, but I was hoping you’d be further along in settling things in Marietta. The truth is, I made you an appointment with Oliver Rayburn.”

  “Oliver Rayburn?” He was a highly respected film producer/director whose work was top notch. She’d always wanted to work on one of his projects.

  “Yes, and the news gets better. He’s doing a remake of A Hint of Splendor and he’s considering you for the role. Before he goes out of town, he wants a sit down with you.”

  “Really? You’re not kidding.”

  “You know I’m not a kidder.”

  It was a role of a lifetime. The classic was her grandmother’s favorite movie of all time. If Hayley won the role, it would be a tribute to Grandma Marie. But not even that could bolster her enthusiasm. She should be overjoyed to be considered for this meaty role, but
right now, she was torn in two. She was assuming another role right now, that of the girl she’d once been, living a simple life in a small town. Tony’s call was a reminder that she wasn’t that girl anymore. She was a star with opportunities and obligations and commitments. She didn’t know how she felt about that.

  “You do get how important this is. Oliver thinks you might be his girl.” Tony’s excitement spilled out in a rush. “He’s got all these great ideas on how to bring the story into the twenty-first century. Wait until you hear what he has planned. You shouldn’t miss your chance.”

  “I guess not. When’s the appointment?”

  “A week from Monday.”

  Only eight days away. She began to blink rapidly. She knew what that meant. She would have to leave Marietta earlier than expected. Her shoulders sagged and her belly began to ache. “So soon?”

  “Has to be, honey. Oliver’s headed for Morocco for a month and then is going back home to New York. We’ve got to talk to him before that, or he may be tempted to sign someone else.”

  Her heart began to race, not in a good way, and she felt long fingers gripping her, pulling her in opposite directions. There were only half a dozen women who could pull off this role and if she didn’t at least try, one of those other actors might surely snap it up. At any other time in her life, this would be a no-brainer. She’d jump at the chance.

  But she wasn’t ready to go home yet. She’d wanted to stay on and enjoy her days in Marietta for a few more weeks. The man waiting for her in the parlor had something to do with that. There was no denying it. But if she lost this opportunity with Oliver Rayburn, she might regret it the rest of her life.

  “Okay, Tony. I’ll come.”

  “You’ll come? That’s great. You won’t regret it.”

  Then why was she sick to her stomach again?

  “Promise me one thing, Tony. Keep this under wraps. I don’t want anyone to know about this until it’s a done deal.”