Chapter 17
Elijah
Are you here? They’re about to start. I texted Hazel. It sat beneath the texts I’d sent before, with no responses. The image of her still buried under work as her fundraiser started made me frustrated and sad. And wondering about our relationship when I went back home in a week. Would she keep to our plan? Would she make time for me?
Doubting her before it’d even begun wasn’t fair. Even if my concerns seemed valid.
She was passionate about her work, and I wanted to support that. But there had to be space in her life for me, or none of this could work.
I lifted my hand to run through my hair, before remembering that I’d styled it and lowered my hand to my side.
By some miracle, my community fund surprise for Hazel had remained a surprise. The local gossips hadn’t caught wind, and in just a few hours, I’d get to announce it. Maybe that’d take some of the pressure off her—knowing she wasn’t alone in her mission. That this town supported her.
“Where’s Hazel?” Sterling yelled over the crowd. He was taller than me, but judging by the way he kept swiveling his head, he couldn’t find her, either.
“I don’t know. She hasn’t texted me back,” I said. When I couldn’t find the top of her head, I searched for Dennis, figuring he wouldn’t be far from her. My stomach twisted with an ugly jealousy. I snapped my eyes forward, changing my mind. If he was with her, I didn’t want to see it.
Nora stepped on the stage first. It only made her about two feet taller than usual, but it was enough that she was visible. Ben stood to her right as she picked the microphone off its stand.
Chatting had already begun to die down, but at her amplified “Hello, everyone,” it ceased.
Never one to waste time, she continued, “Hazel and everyone down at Grand Ridge Animal Clinic would like to thank you for coming out. The fine men of our town have volunteered their time and expertise, and we are preemptively grateful. So, get your money ready, folks. We’re doing this for the dogs, cats, and animals who need someone to take care of them. And the town of Grand Ridge, Michigan, does not turn away from anyone in need.”
“We also don’t turn away from a beer or two, now do we?”
Cups went into the air as the group called out in agreement.
Nora’s smile was wolfish, knowing we were in the palm of her hand. “That’s what I thought. My friends, my townfolk, my neighbors, I want you to be so loud tonight that my ears are ringing when I walk out of this building. And fellas,” she cocked a playful hip, “don’t be shy… let’s see what you’re working with! It’s for a good cause!”
This time, when the crowd screamed, it was primarily female voices. Sterling laughed, gripping my shoulder. Even through my concern for Hazel, my smile spread.
Everyone was still losing their minds when Nora cooly handed the microphone to Ben. She descended the stairs and joined the rest of us.
Ben held up a calming hand. “All right, all right. I see our girl got you all worked up. Now, let’s get our first bachelor up here. The order is random, so if there is anyone or,” he lifted an eyebrow, “a service you’re looking for, there’s no telling when they’ll be up. Just be ready.”
I hoped the pattern wasn’t too random, especially since some of our bachelors were already drunker than others. I found Shane with a drink in one hand, swaying his body to music that wasn’t playing anymore.
“Shane Briar, will you join me on stage?” Ben swept an arm in welcome.
So, not too random.
“Hell yeah!” Shane hollered.
My phone buzzed. Pulling it out of my pocket, I found a new text from Hazel. I’m here. By the bar.
Not bothering to text back, I made my way through the crowd. The music had started up again and hands shot into the air to cast their bids.
I found her with Nora. Hazel’s long dress draped her body, brushing over her curves, and her blue jean jacket hit just above her hips. She was my girl next door dream come true, and just the sight of her thrilled me. A smile spread across her face when she saw me, even if it didn’t quite meet her eyes.
My jealousy from a few minutes before was an embarrassment I wished I could forget.
I snaked my arm around her back and kissed her. I pulled back, and she rested her head on my shoulder.
“How are you doing?” I yelled, unsure if she could hear me over the noise.
“Um… I’m here. How are you?” She leaned more of her weight onto me.
“Great. Everyone’s excited! There weren’t any brimstone fires or pitchforks on our way in tonight, so I don’t think any of us are going to go directly to hell.”
She chuckled.
“Why were you late?” I asked.
Her shoulders tightened under my arm. “Working. Lost track of time.”
This auction was important to her. She was under a lot of pressure to produce money for the humane society, and she was taking a risk getting that money this way. And still she had “lost track of time.”
You gonna be late on your weekend you come to me?I didn’t say the question out loud. It was shitty enough that I’d thought it.
“Sold,” Ben’s voice boomed, “for one hundred and twenty-five dollars to Lindsey Goodman! That is a great price for 18 months of oil changes!” He marked off something on the sheet on the stand in front of him. “Ladies, this next guy is going to look grumpy, but don’t let that discourage you. Ransom, come on up, you surly bastard.”
I laughed, big and loud, focusing my attention on the present, determined to have a good time.
This was definitely not Ransom’s scene, and it just went to show how much he wanted to help that he was willing to be here. He stood front and center with his arms crossed over his chest, his feet planted shoulder-width apart. His auburn hair gleamed in the light, and behind his beard, he scowled.
“Ladies,” Ben began, “I know he seems feral, and he possibly is—there are rumors he was raised by wolves—but he’s offering up ten hours of masonry work, including a one-hundred-fifty-dollar budget toward supplies. Let’s start the bidding.”
It shot through the starting bids quickly.
“Do you need any masonry done?” I asked Hazel. “That could be a hell of a deal.”
She lifted her head from my shoulder. “You don’t mind if I bid on other men?”
“When you put it that way, I don’t love it,” I joked. “But if you need something done, throw your hat in the ring. And you shouldn’t bid on me. If you need IT work, I’ll just do it.”
She brightened. “Okay.”
An intense battle raged, until elderly Mrs. Peters, who owned the town’s flower shop and greenhouse, punched both of her dark brown arms in the air victoriously. “I told you I’d get a better price on that quote!”
The whole bar broke into laughter, except for Ransom, whose demeanor didn’t change. He jerked his head in acknowledgment and exited the stage.
“We have over eight hundred dollars, and it’s just been two people,” Hazel said to no one in particular. “If we average this for the rest of the auction, we’re gonna meet our goal.”
Nora scoffed. “Oh babe, we’re gonna beat the shit out of our goal.”
“We’re gonna beat the shit out of our goal!” Hazel beamed, her brown eyes so bright, they could have lit the stage.
I hugged her tight, her excitement and relief palpable.
The energy in the bar was still high forty minutes later. There were only a few more men, including me.
Remi had caused quite the uproar. Judging by the zeal in which three final women bid, it had more to do with Remi than the veterinarian work he was offering.
When Lily Nelson won, Nora leaned forward with her eyes narrowed. “Does Lily even have a pet?”
Hazel shrugged. “If she does, I’ve never heard of it.”
Alcohol buzzed in my blood. I held Hazel in my arms, her back to my front, and she let me sway her side to side. “This isn’t too close to dancing, is it? I know how much you’d hate that.”
Her giggle sounded distinctly drunk. “If it was dancing, I wouldn’t allow it. Not on my watch.”
“Can I call it dancing?”
“You may not.”
“I’ve danced before, and this feels a lot like dancing.”
“This is swaying or snuggling; definitely not dancing.”
My chest bounced against her back as I laughed. This was good. We were good. Even if I had to quiet my lingering insecurities. It was just because I was leaving soon, and our fresh relationship was going to change. But that didn’t mean it would fail.
Ben took a drink of water. He was doing a good job of remaining enthusiastic, but he was beginning to look a bit frayed at the edges. “All right, ladies, let’s all welcome our man Brooks!”
With cool, easy confidence, Brooks stepped onto the stage, a long neck bottle pinched between two fingers. An audible gasp rippled through the crowd. Of all the transformations, his was the starkest. Instead of the baseball cap he usually wore, his hair was swooped back on top and the sides were in a tight fade. He’d shaved his beard, showing off a strong jaw. The outfit we’d chosen fit nicely. He was still Brooks, just a more fashionable and better maintained version.
“Holy shit!” someone yelled.
“You are looking like a drink of water, and I am thirsty,” Ginny, the waitress from the Pour House, called out.
It took a moment for the noise to calm down before Ben was able to begin the auction. “Standing here in his new digs is Jack Brooks. This strong, silent man is offering to,” to himself Ben muttered, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this”—he cleared his throat—“tend your garden.”
Hazel and Nora clung to each other, both laughing too hard to support their own weight. Cat calls erupted, which varied in levels of decency. Brooks weathered it good-naturedly, seemingly unembarrassed. He sipped his beer and waited, with only a slight smirk on his face.
Nora’s twin sister, Olivia, called out, “If you promise to work shirtless, I’ll bid.”
His head turned in her direction, his eyes laser focused on her.
“Oh shit…” Nora muttered to herself. “God, can she stop leading him on?”
“What? No one’s gonna take her seriously.” Hazel reasoned. “Her and Brooks, can you even imagine?”
An irritated lift of her eyebrow was Nora’s only response.
Holding up a hand to slow everyone down, Ben said, “Bidding hasn’t even begun.”
Without shifting his focus, Brooks passed his drink to Ben, then took hold of his belt buckle. My eyes widened.
Shocked. Floored. Incomprehensible.
“No way!” Hazel screamed.
The crowd between us and the stage moved like particles heating up, spastic and frantic. With one quick pull, Brooks freed the leather strap from his belt loops.
“Jesus Christ,” Ben exclaimed. “No one had money on Brooks taking his clothes off tonight.”
Still focused on Olivia, Brooks’ belt clattered to the stage.
Someone just started bidding, without being prompted. “One hundred dollars!”
Amounts continued to climb as he started with the button at the base of his neck.
“One hundred and seventy-five dollars!”
“What the fuck is happening right now?” I asked in disbelief.
With her face pressed into her hands, Nora groaned. “How does she not know? Sometimes she is too dumb to live.”
Brooks pulled the tail of his shirt out of his slacks, letting it hang open over his white undershirt for a few seconds before freeing one arm, then the other.
Bids were shouted in a frenzy, and the numbers piled on top of one another.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ben said, “Brooks, you move your hips at all, and I need a cabaret license.”
Brooks bundled his shirt into his fist and let it fly over the crowd. It landed on Olivia’s shocked, blushing face. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets and lounged while standing.
She peeled it off her eyes and screamed, “Four hundred and fifty dollars!”
“Sold,” Brooks’ voice called out loud and clear, cutting off the bidding. A second round of gasps rippled through the bar.
Hazel’s draw dropped. “Brooks and Olivia?!”
“Looks like it,” I agreed.
Nora just shook her head. Throwing her hands up in disgust, she proclaimed, “Too dumb to live.”