The Last in Love (Ardent Springs Book 5) Page 4

  “Right,” Zac said, dropping the stunned expression and turning back to the loudly cheering crowd. “Ladies, this man is working hard for your money. Who will give me fifty dollars for a date with Firefighter Graves?”

  A slew of paddles went up, and so did the bids. A minute later, the DJ yelled “Sold!” at the three-hundred-dollar mark, and a tiny, silver-haired woman climbed onstage to claim her prize.

  “Isn’t that his wife?” Justin asked.

  “Yeah. She said she wasn’t going to bid because she could have him for free anytime she wanted.”

  “Looks like she changed her mind.”

  Vivi laughed. “I bet Clifton did it on purpose. He knew Mildred wouldn’t tolerate some other woman spending time with him. Not after that little performance.”

  Justin chuckled. “Gotta give the man credit. I wouldn’t dance around like that.” When the redhead didn’t reply, he turned to see if she’d walked away only to find blue eyes boring into him. “You cannot expect me to do that.”

  “A ladder truck, Justin. Do you know how long we’ve been saving? We’re this close,” Vivi said, holding two fingers an inch apart. “I can almost smell the fresh red paint.”

  She could smell whatever she wanted, but he was not about to make a fool of himself. That swivel thing was cute coming from Clifton. Justin would look like a drunk walrus trying to twirl a ball on his, well, not his nose.

  Vivi crossed her arms. “You agreed to do this.”

  “I agreed to walk out on that stage, endure the humiliation of being auctioned off like a 1965 Roadster, and then spend an hour with the highest bidder. I did not agree to shake my ass for anyone.”

  “I’ll make sure you don’t get truck-washing duty for a month. And if you bring in the most money, you’ll have bragging rights for the rest of the year.”

  He worked his jaw, processing the offer. She just had to go and mention bragging rights, didn’t she? Damn his competitive nature.

  “Fine. But I’m not taking anything off.”

  “Take it off!” called Haleigh over the cheering crowd around them, mortifying Abby.

  Otherwise rational women catcalling men they’d known for most, if not all, of their lives might be the most ridiculous thing she’d ever witnessed. This was supposed to be a civic fundraiser, not a male revue.

  Admittedly, Clifton was kind of adorable, shaking his hips and blowing kisses to the crowd. A performance that would go down in history, and at least Abby could say she’d seen it with her own two eyes. To her relief, the noise level dropped to a more tolerable decibel level once Mildred dragged her husband off the stage.

  “Have we seen enough yet?” she asked Haleigh.

  Without sparing her friend a glance, the normally reserved doctor said, “Don’t be silly. The main attraction is up next.”

  Abby hadn’t bothered to pick up a program so had no idea who this main attraction might be, but she didn’t have to wait long to find out. A familiar song blared over the crowd as Justin Donovan sauntered onto the stage.

  “Get your paddle ready, girlfriend. This one’s for you.”

  She should have known. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m bidding on any man, especially that one.”

  “But he’s so pretty,” Haleigh replied, dancing to the music as if they were in a club instead of an old movie house. “And he likes you. Why not have a little fun?”

  The obvious answer, one she’d already given Haleigh more than once, died on her lips when Abby spotted Justin tugging the hem of his shirt from the waistband of his hip-hugging jeans. A wicked smile combined with a quick flash of defined abs sent the audience into a frenzy.

  “Oh my,” she whispered before Haleigh dragged her forward, pushing through the crowd.

  “We need a closer look,” her friend shouted as they forged ahead.

  When they reached the front of the stage, Justin locked eyes with Abby. She couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried. Three buttons opened on the shirt and her mouth went dry. Two more and she forgot her name. When the last button gave way, the buzz in her ears had nothing to do with the screams echoing off the rafters. The word glorious came to mind. As a nurse, Abby had seen her fair share of the human form, but she’d never seen anything like this.

  After flashing her a wink, he turned around and swung his hips from side to side. Distracted by the perfect ass in front of her, Abby almost didn’t notice the vibration happening in her own back pocket. Reaching for the cell, she spotted the name Eliza Dilburgh on the screen.

  Grabbing Haleigh’s arm, she yelled, “I need to take this,” and handed over her paddle before scurrying to the exit, answering the call as she burst into the theater lobby. “Hello? Ms. Dilburgh?”

  “Mrs. Williams, I’m sorry to bother you on a weekend, but your claim has kicked back in the system due to an issue with your policy. Our files show that your husband, Kyle Williams, signed the original documents, but you did not. We’ll need a form from Mr. Williams making you a fellow beneficiary before a check can be cut.”

  Locking down her emotions, Abby closed her eyes. “Ms. Dilburgh, if you check your records again, you’ll see that my husband was killed in combat nearly two years ago.” Silence came from the other end of the call.

  “I’m very sorry,” Ms. Dilburgh said. “I assumed you were divorced.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m a widow.” The last word never got easier to say.

  “I’ll work it out,” the other woman replied. “You have my sincere condolences.”

  More than eighteen months later and Abby still had no idea what the hell she was supposed to do with condolences.

  “Thank you. Please let me know if you need anything else. I’d like to put my house back together as soon as possible.” Bouncing between her mother’s and her brother’s homes, watching two deliriously happy couples enjoy what she longed for, was making this already crappy situation even more depressing.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Ms. Dilburgh answered, and the call cut off.

  Shaken, Abby slid the phone away from her ear. She couldn’t be angry with the adjuster. It was an honest mistake, and one Ms. Dilburgh no doubt regretted. Abby knew a thing or two about regret. Remembering her recent commitment to moving on, she shoved the phone back in her pocket and pushed through the theater doors. Justin’s shirt hung off his shoulders as bid paddles waved in the air. In their excitement, the crowd had tightened to the point that Abby couldn’t possibly reach Haleigh again. She couldn’t even see her.

  Lingering at the edge, Abby enjoyed the show from a distance. The MC, a local DJ who looked overwhelmed by the audience reaction, called out dollar amounts. Three fifty. Then four. The bidding jumped to five hundred, and then six, which appeared to be too rich for several previously determined participants. Only two paddles continued to battle it out until the final number of eight hundred fifty dollars.

  Abby whistled to herself. Justin might turn out to be worth a pretty penny, should the lucky woman reel him into more than an afternoon date, but anyone willing to pay that much for a man had to be desperate.

  “Congratulations to the winning woman,” Zac Harwick announced, “with paddle number four twenty-two.”

  Still on the fringe of the excitement, Abby applauded with the others, waiting for the lucky girl to hop onstage and claim her prize. And then she realized why the paddle number sounded familiar. That was her paddle.

  Haleigh Rae Mitchner, I’m going to kill you.

  Before she could sprint for the exit, her best friend leapt from the crowd and grabbed her arm. “I got you a present!” she hollered, smiling like a cat who’d just liberated a goldfish—with its teeth. The woman didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

  “I’m not going up there. You bought him. You go get him.”

  Ignoring the order, Haleigh towed her to the stairs beside the stage and physically forced her to climb, leaving Abby to wonder when her best friend had gotten so damn strong. She’d planned to scurry rig
ht back down again, but Justin met her at the top with an extended hand, wearing a smile that kicked her heart into overdrive.

  “I was hoping you’d be the one,” he said into her ear, the scruff along his cheek tickling her temple.

  Abby had no intention of going through with this ridiculous date, but she wouldn’t embarrass him, either. Planting a fake smile on her lips, she gave a quick wave to the audience before shuffling them both out of the spotlight.

  Once hidden in the wings, she spun to face him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” he asked. “You just made me a legend.”

  “I didn’t make you anything. That was Haleigh.”

  Hands on his hips, Justin frowned. “What was Haleigh?”

  “The bidding,” Abby explained, struggling to focus with so much mouthwatering flesh on display. “She used my paddle, but it was Haleigh doing the bidding.”

  “Are you saying your brother’s girlfriend just bid on a date with me?”

  “Not for herself,” she clarified. “For me. A date with you for me.”

  “That’s a relief. I could probably hold my own against Cooper but would rather not test the theory.”

  “I’m trying to tell you . . .” But the words I’m not going out with you stuck in her throat. Haleigh had been right about one thing. Justin sure was pretty. In a biscuits-and-gravy, I-bet-he-tastes-good kind of way. “Would you please button your shirt?”

  Leaning on a beam beside her, his smile returned. The wicked one that muddled her senses. “Why? Don’t you like what you see?”

  The man’s ego knew no bounds. “Because I feel ridiculous having this conversation while you’re half-dressed.” Betraying her true thoughts, she added, “It’s freaking distracting.”

  Justin finally cooperated. “You’re cute when you’re distracted,” he said, closing the blue button-down. “Where do you want to go today?”

  “We aren’t going anywhere.”

  “If you have to work, we can move the date to tomorrow.”

  “We aren’t going on a date.” Though why not, she couldn’t remember. He needed to button faster.

  “You just bid over eight hundred dollars that says otherwise.”

  “I told you. Haleigh did the bidding.” And someday Abby would get her back for creating this awkward scenario.

  Stopping with two buttons to go, he repeated her earlier statement. “To buy a date for you. With me. What part of this am I missing?”

  Rubbing her forehead, Abby felt herself weakening. Why couldn’t she spend a few hours with him? They’d been together two days ago, and truth be told, she’d enjoyed his company. All she had to do was set some ground rules.

  “You aren’t missing anything,” she said, accepting defeat. “I’ll spend a few hours with you, but on one condition.”

  “Name it,” Justin said.

  “We don’t call it a date.”

  He paused in the process of tucking the shirt into his jeans. “You do realize that the definition of a date is two people spending time together?”

  Mere semantics. “Take it or leave it.”

  His deep chuckle sent tremors down to her toes. “You paid, so you make the rules. Now tell me where we’re going on this non-date.”

  Picking the least man-friendly venture she could think of, Abby said, “I know just the place.”

  Chapter 5

  Someday Justin would have to thank Haleigh Mitchner for her interference. When Vivi shoved him through the curtain, Justin felt like a fool. He’d done some crazy things in college, but always with the help of liquid courage. Shaking his moneymaker for a hometown crowd, which included his eighth-grade math teacher and at least three women from his maternal grandmother’s bridge club, had taught him the true meaning of humiliation.

  Until the spotlight had veered left, allowing him to lock eyes with Abby in the front row. Then he had a reason to keep shaking.

  The light had blinded him for the rest of the auction, so he’d had no idea whether Abby was bidding or not. As the dollar amounts increased, his confidence grew and, though he’d deny it to his dying day, Justin had enjoyed the hoots and hollers. In the end, his efforts had paid off in more ways than one. Vivi grew closer to her goal, and Justin landed a date with Abby.

  Not that he could call it a date, of course. Nope. They were simply two people spending time together. Buying flowers.

  “You can buy the petunias if you want,” he advised, “but I’m telling you, they’re high maintenance. I’d go with a hardier perennial. Like these coneflowers.”

  As part of his civil engineering degree, Justin had studied landscape design and worked part-time with an Evanston company during the fall and spring of his junior and senior years at Northwestern. Thanks to a childhood spent helping his mom in the garden, he also possessed a green thumb.

  “Why are their petals limp?” Abby asked. “They look sad. And grumpy.”

  Who the heck called flowers grumpy?

  “They aren’t grumpy,” he defended. “They’re cone shaped. That’s why they’re called coneflowers.”

  Her nose twitched. “I don’t like that color pink, either.”

  “That’s purple.”

  “They’re pink.”

  Justin pulled the info card from the pot, holding it up for her to read. “Purple Coneflowers.”

  “Fine,” she conceded. “Then I don’t like that shade of purple.”

  Heaven help him. “What colors do you like?”

  “Happy colors. Yellow, red, orange, blue.”

  Voice droll, he said, “So anything other than pink and purple?”

  Fluttering her eyelashes, she said, “If you don’t like what I’ve chosen for our date, Mr. Donovan, feel free to bow out at any time.”

  She wouldn’t win that easy. “I thought we weren’t supposed to call this a date.”

  “Slip of the tongue, I assure you.” Strolling down the aisle, she asked, “How do you know all this stuff anyway?”

  “I did landscaping work in college. As I’d hoped, the experience came in handy on a couple big projects later in my career.”

  “That brings us back to your job situation. How does someone like you end up unemployed and back in his hometown?”

  Curious, he asked, “A guy like me?”

  Abby toyed with one of the coneflowers. “You know. Smart. Driven. Talented.”

  “How do you know I’m talented?”

  “Because your mother tells me so every time I see her.” Glancing up, she asked, “Do you have any idea how proud she is of you?”

  While he loved the Donovans more than anything, Justin’s ambition to be the best, to be worth something, had more to do with the parents that gave him up than the ones who’d raised him.

  “She’s mentioned it a time or two.” Or maybe twenty. Oddly enough, his dad had never uttered the words.

  “Anyway, what gives? Why are you here instead of in Chicago?”

  Still reluctant to share the details of his epic professional failure, Justin tried a different tack. “I told you. Things got complicated. I didn’t leave my last position on positive terms.”

  “Okay. Chicago is one city,” Abby pointed out. “Why not get a job somewhere else? Denver. Pittsburgh. Seattle. You should be using your talents.”

  “I am using my talents,” he said with a grin. “I’m consulting on your flower bed project.”

  Abby lifted one delicate brow. “And I thought I was good at evading touchy subjects.” Returning to her shopping, she continued down the row, stopping in front of an abundance of red-and-yellow blooms. “What are these?” she asked. “They’re gorgeous.”

  She was gorgeous, Justin nearly corrected but kept the thought to himself.

  “Blanket flowers,” he replied. “Good in the summer heat and they attract butterflies.”

  “I like butterflies,” she cooed. “Now we’re cooking.” Turning the corner to the next row, she stopped again. “Please tell me I can have the blue ones.” Ab
by bent close and breathed deep. “They smell wonderful. Subtle, but I like it.”

  “Those are delphiniums. Good choice.” Pointing to a display farther up, he added, “I’d throw in hydrangeas and several Soft Touch holly shrubs while you’re at it. You’ll need the green to break up all the color, and the Soft Touch don’t have the sharp points of a regular holly bush. Add a nice border and you’ll have a flower bed that your neighbors will envy.” When he met Abby’s eyes again, a sense of foreboding prickled up his spine. “What does that look mean?”

  “You need to start your own business,” she said.

  She clearly didn’t know much about property development. “I’d need investors, and there aren’t many millionaires looking for development deals around here.”

  “No, I mean a landscaping business. You have the knowledge and experience, would be the only such service in Ardent Springs, and I heard the downtown planning committee is searching for someone to dress up the square. I know it isn’t the same as transforming the skyline of a big city, but there’s something to be said for being your own boss and doing something you enjoy.”

  Truth be told, Justin had planned to live off his substantial savings until another development opportunity came his way. All he had to do was wait out the industry gossip mill and hope that someone would give him a second chance. But there was no telling when that day would come, and considering his lack of other options, Abby’s idea held merit.

  Churning the details over in his mind, Justin made a mental list of what he’d need. Equipment, a trailer, a name for the business. And a truck, since shovels and bags of dirt would never come within a hundred feet of his Infiniti. Pop might let him use the old Chevy if he asked nicely.

  “I haven’t done residential work in a long time. I’m not sure I could convince anyone to give me a shot without showing them an example of what I can do.”

  Abby lifted a delphinium plant and shoved it at his chest. “There’s a house on Sunset Lane in dire need of attention. Have at it.”

  “Are you serious? You’d let me use your house?”

  “Sure,” she said. “You get your sample garden, and now I won’t have to get dirty.”