“Ladies, ladies, let’s keep it G-rated,” Riley was saying. “There are kids here today. We’re up to two hundred dollars and the fight seems to be narrowed down to Jenny Heatherlea and Trina Wingate. Do I hear two-ten?”
“Two-ten.”
Everyone, including Jasper, turned to the side entrance of the gym as the new voice rang out over the crowd. He heard a few gasps at the sight of Carissa.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jenny, one of the women bidding on him, called out. “She just got here.”
“And they used to date,” Trina, the other woman, complained. “She has an advantage.”
Riley tried to calm the crowd down from the podium. “There are no exclusions in this auction. Anyone is free to bid. Let’s continue.”
“I heard they’re still dating.” This came from Tony from The Brewside, who had donated coffee and tea for the event. “According to the Bayside Blogger.”
“Thanks, man,” Jasper called out.
Tony offered a grin in exchange, clearly enjoying himself.
“Nope, they broke up again. Didn’t you see Facebook today?” someone else called out.
“In any case, we are going to accept Carissa’s bid,” Riley continued. “Even though she’s starting her own business and really shouldn’t be spending any extra money at the moment.”
Jasper would have chuckled at Riley’s commentary if he wasn’t so entranced by Carissa’s entrance. She looked beautiful, as always. Today she had on tight jeans, a bright red sweater and tall, sexy boots. But she also looked tired. Even from across the gym, he could see the strain on her face, the shadows under her eyes. She wove her fingers together nervously as she bit her lip.
Part of Jasper wanted to rush to her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go. Another part of him felt cautious, unsure of what she was thinking. To be honest, he was still a little hurt. And yet there was a glimmer of hope. She’d shown up and bid on him.
“Last bid was two hundred and ten dollars. Do I hear two-fifteen?” Riley asked the crowd.
“Three hundred dollars,” one of the women shouted. The rest of the crowd offered a collective “ooohhhh.”
Riley looked toward Carissa, who was frowning. Jasper knew she didn’t have the money to do this.
“Four hundred,” the other bidder screamed.
Holy crap, Jasper thought.
“My, what generosity we’re seeing today,” Riley said. “We have an offer of four hundred dollars for Jasper Dumont.”
“Five hundred,” Jenny said. “I always win,” she added with a determined look toward Trina, who threw her hands in the air and backed up. She was out.
So it was between Jenny, who always won, and Carissa. When Jasper turned in Carissa’s direction though, she was nowhere in sight. His heart sank.
“Okay,” Riley said uncertainly, also noticing that her friend was absent. “We have five hundred dollars for Jasper Dumont. Do I hear five-ten?”
“No.”
Everyone flung around to face the back of the gym where Carissa now stood. She was next to one of the cookie tables.
She’d said no. Jasper wanted to melt into the stage.
Then Carissa grabbed two of the cookies and held them high in the air. “I don’t have five hundred and ten dollars. But I do have cookies. I bid all of these peanut butter cookies.”
“She can’t do that,” Jenny said.
“I don’t know. These cookies are pretty good.” This was said by George from the Rusty Keg, who had cookie crumbs embedded in his beard.
“I offer my chocolate chip cookies, the oatmeal raisin, the shortbread.” Carissa was walking forward as she spoke. “I give you all of my coconut bars, the white chocolate macadamia nut.” She handed the two cookies she still held to Cam as she walked by, her eyes now clasped onto Jasper’s.
“I give you the brownies I made, both the regular and the double-chocolate caramel ones. And...and...well, that’s everything I made for today. But I will make you anything you want, Jasp.”
She spread her arms wide, offering herself to him. Jasper realized how huge the gesture was for her, so he jumped off the stage and met her halfway.
“All of this for one date with me?” he asked her.
“Well,” she said in a quiet voice, lowering it so only he could hear. “I was hoping for more than one date.”
“The café,” he began. “I’m sorry I was so controlling and that I...”
She held up a hand to stop him. “I want to do the café, Jasp. You challenge me and I know you only wanted what’s best for me.”
“Hey, can you guys speak up? We can’t hear you,” George called out. Everyone started chuckling, but Jasper softened his voice even more.
“I was trying to help you, because I love helping the people I care about.”
“One of your best qualities.” Red tinged her cheeks as she glanced around at all of the people watching them. “I overreacted.”
“That’s not true—” he began, but she cut him off.
“I was blaming you for other things in my life and...well, it doesn’t matter. Because you’re not my father. You’re not my ex.”
“What am I then?”
Her gaze drilled into his. “You’re the person I want to be with.”
He was having a hell of a time staying calm. “I’m not perfect, Car.”
A tear spilled over onto her cheek. “Thank God.” With that she launched herself into his arms and held on tight. “I want you, Jasper. Just the way you are.”
“Good,” he whispered into her ear. “Because I love you, Car. I did back then and I do now.”
“I love you, too.” She pressed her lips to his to the sound of monstrous applause.
“Well, folks, I think we have our winner for Jasper Dumont. Sorry, Jenny,” Riley said from the stage, not sounding sorry at all. There were tears shining in her eyes.
The crowd kept clapping and whistling but Jasper couldn’t care less. He felt like the luckiest man alive. Carissa beamed up at him even as her eyes shone with unshed tears.
He might be back in his old high school, but everything was different now. Today, he felt like a new man. A happy man, who couldn’t believe how fortunate he was to have the woman of his dreams standing in his arms.
Epilogue
Life is sweet, dear Bayside.
How can you not think that after watching Carissa and Jasper in the gym earlier today? Seems like they got over their issues and let each other in. No doubt another happy ending. And too bad for Jenny and Trina, who I heard were both drowning their sorrows in the dozens of cookies they purchased after the auction...
From her seat in The Brewside, the Bayside Blogger sat back, perusing her screen and what she’d just typed. She was happy about Carissa and Jasper. And she liked to think that she had something to do with their reunion. Sometimes people just needed a little push. After all, where would Bayside be without her meddling? Some people may claim to get annoyed but honestly, she only nudged where she saw a need. And Carissa and Jasper had definitely needed a big fat shove.
Now they were together. They’d left the gym hand in hand, right behind big brother Cam and Elle. Two other people who’d needed some help to get to their happy ending.
The Bayside Blogger reread her column again, made some tweaks, and then hit Post. Now that the Dumont brothers were taken care of, perhaps it was time to focus on herself. Maybe it was her turn to find love.
Luckily she didn’t do a video blog or everyone would see the frown on her face. Like most people, she’d been through her own ordeal. Did she deserve love? She wasn’t sure.
Shaking her head, she tried to dispel the sudden dark mood. After all, today was a good day. She’d helped two more people get together. For now, that would have to be e
nough.
Her story was one for another day.
Packing up her laptop, she rose, flinging her computer bag over her shoulder and reaching for her purse. She gave a little wave to Tony, who offered a smile and wave back.
As she pushed through the door and smiled at the sound of the melodious chimes, she had no idea that she’d left her bright yellow scarf with lime-green polka dots on the table...
* * * * *
Will the Bayside Blogger find her own
happily-ever-after? And will she be unmasked—finally?
Don’t miss
SMITTEN WITH THE BOSS
the next installment of SAVED BY THE BLOG Kerri Carpenter’s new miniseries for Harlequin Special Edition On sale January 2018, wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold.
Keep reading for an excerpt from GARRETT BRAVO’S RUNAWAY BRIDE by Christine Rimmer.
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Garrett Bravo's Runaway Bride
by Christine Rimmer
Chapter One
When the battered bride staggered into the circle of firelight, it was after nine at night, and Garrett Bravo was sitting outside his isolated getaway cabin slow-roasting a hot dog on a stick.
For a weirdly suspended moment, Garrett knew he must be hallucinating.
But how could that be? He’d never been the type who saw things that weren’t there. And he’d only had a couple of beers.
His Aussie sheepdog, Munch, let out a sharp whine of surprise.
“Munch. Stay.” He glanced sternly down at the dog, who quivered in place and stared at the apparition on the other side of their campfire.
Garrett looked up again. She was still there.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, with a ridiculous shout of confusion and lingering disbelief, he jumped to his feet. The sudden movement knocked his hot dog off the stick and down to the dirt. He gaped at it as it fell. Munch cocked an ear and glanced up at him expectantly. When he failed to say no, the dog made short work of the fallen treat.
“Oh, really,” said the tattered vision in white. She came around the fire toward him, waving a grimy hand. “You don’t need to get up. It’s worse than it looks, I promise you.”
It looked pretty bad to him. Leaves decorated her straggling updo and nasty bruises marred her smooth bare shoulders and arms. Her left eye was deep purple and swollen shut. The poor woman’s big white dress was ripped in several places and liberally streaked with mud. And her bare feet? As battered as the rest of her.
“My God,” he croaked. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She blew a tangled hank of blond hair out of her good eye and shrugged. “Well, I’ve been better.”
How could she be so calm? Had her groom gotten violent? If so, the man deserved a taste of his own damn medicine—and speaking of medicine, she needed a doctor. He should call for an ambulance, stat. He dropped his hot-dog stick on top of the ice chest by his chair and dug in a pocket for his phone.
But the phone wasn’t there. Because he’d left it in the cabin. Up here on the mountain, cell reception was nil.
Garrett let out a long string of bad words and then demanded, “Who did this to you?”
The bride remained unconcerned. She hitched a thumb back over her shoulder. “Little accident back down the road a ways.”
“Your groom...?”
“Oh, he’s still in Denver. Some stranger ran me off the road.” As he tried to process that bit of news, she added, “Camilla Lockwood. But please call me Cami.” She offered a scratched, dirty hand.
Numbly, he took it. It felt cool and soft in his grip. And real. She was definitely real. “Garrett. Garrett Bravo.”
“Good to meet you.” A frown tightened the skin between her eyes. “You okay, Garrett? You look a little pale.”
He looked pale? “How will I call you an ambulance when my phone doesn’t work?”
“You won’t.” She reached up, clasped his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s fine, really. I don’t need a doctor.”
“But—”
“Take my word for it, I would know. You think this looks bad?” She indicated her body with graceful sweeps of both hands. “I’ve been through worse. Lots worse—and who’s this?” She dropped to a crouch, her giant dress belling out around her, and held out a hand to his dog. Munch made a questioning sound. “Come on, sweetie pie,” she coaxed. When Garrett made no objections, Munch let out a happy little bark and scuttled right over. “Oh, aren’t you the cutest boy?” She scratched his ears, rubbed his spotted coat—and glanced up at Garrett with a beaming smile. “Beautiful dog. Such pretty markings.” Garrett dipped to her level, took her arm and pulled her to her feet again. “Hey!” She tried to jerk free. “Ease up.”
“We need to get you down the mountain.”
“No, we don’t.”
Ignoring her protests, he started pulling her toward his Jeep Wrangler Rubicon on the far side of the cabin.
“Garrett. Stop, I mean it.” She dug in her heels.
“Camilla, come on now.”
“I said, call me Cami. And no. Just no. I’m not going anywhere.” As she whipped her arm free of his grasp, he debated the advisability of scooping her up and carrying her bodily to the Jeep. But even with all the scratches and bruises, she seemed to have a lot of fight left in her. And say he did manage to get her over there and into the SUV. How would he convince her to stay put while he ran into the cabin for the keys?
Maybe he could reason with her. “You need a doctor. I only want to take you down the mountain to Justice Creek General.”
“No means no, Garrett.” She braced her hands on her hips and narrowed her one working eye to a slit. “And I have clearly said no.”
So much for reason. “Will you at least sit down? Rest for a minute?”
She flipped that same tangled hank of hair off her forehead. “Sure.”
Before she could change her mind, he caught her elbow and dragged her over to his chair. “Here. Sit.” She dropped to the chair with a large huff of breath, her big dress poofing out as she landed, then quickly deflating. Slowly and gently, he explained, “Relax, okay? I’m just going to go into the cabin and get the first aid kit.”
“Fir
st aid can wait.”
“But—”
“Please, Garrett.” She picked a twig from her hair and tossed it over her shoulder. “I need water. My tongue’s just a dried-up old piece of leather in my mouth, you know?”
That tongue of hers seemed to be working pretty well to him. But yeah. Water. He could do that. “Stay right there?”
“I won’t move a muscle.” Munch, always a sucker for a pretty girl, sidled close and plunked down beside the chair. For the dog, she had a tender smile. “Hey, honey.” She stroked his head. “What’s his name?”
“Munch.”
“Cute,” she said. And Garrett just stood there, staring down at her as she petted his dog. Finally, she glanced up at him again and asked hopefully, “Water?”
“Right.” Against his better judgment, he left her alone with only Munch to look after her as he ran for the cabin. At the door, he paused with his hand on the knob. What if she took off?
Well, what if she did? If she insisted on wandering Moosejaw Mountain in the dark barefoot in her torn-up wedding dress, far be it from him to try to stop her.
He went in, filled a tall insulated bottle with water, grabbed the dish towel and ran back out.
She was still there. “You’re a lifesaver,” she said when he handed her the bottle.
He flipped open the cooler, grabbed a handful of ice and wrapped it in the towel. “For your eye.”
She took a long drink and then let out a happy sigh. “Thank you.” Only then did she accept the ice. Pressing it gingerly to her bad eye, she frowned. “Don’t tell me I stole your only chair.” She started to rise.
“Relax.” He patted the air between them until she dropped back into the seat. “I’ve got a spare.” He grabbed the extra camp chair from where he’d left it leaning against a tree, snapped it open and set it down on the other side of the cooler from her.
Bidding on the Bachelor Page 20