Chapter One
Starlight Old Folks Home, Alienn, Arkansas
First Annual Bachelor Auction Fundraiser
“So, this is what hell looks like.”
Jack Grey gazed at the lively and enthusiastic crowd and tried not to make a run for it. The sun was setting and it would be dark soon. Under the cover of night, he might be able to escape and hide.
That was his first instinct, though he knew it was futile.
Aunt Dixie would simply hunt him down, drag him back by the scruff of his neck and plop him right back up on stage to fulfill her latest grand idea to make money for what had to be the richest old folks home in the whole state of Arkansas, possibly the nation.
Jack had always considered himself a reasonable man.
Which was why he could say with complete confidence that standing on a makeshift stage in front of seemingly half the population of Alienn, Arkansas—while his Aunt Dixie waved a glitter-covered microphone like a weapon—was not a reasonable situation.
“Ladies!” Aunt Dixie boomed, her voice carrying clear across the courtyard of the Starlight Old Folks Home.
It had been festively decorated with ropes of lights strung above the heads of the bidders and spectators like some fantasy fairy ball.
“And a few of you gentlemen, though I see you mostly came for the complimentary pie table—”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Jack shifted his weight and tugged at the too-tight collar of the button-down shirt Aunt Dixie had insisted he wear. He preferred T-shirts and jeans. He had been summarily overruled.
“I look like I’m about to sell farm equipment,” he muttered.
From the front row, his little sister, Valene—who was absolutely not helping—called out, “Smile, Jack! You look great and you’re about to make someone very happy!”
“Or very disappointed,” he shot back.
More laughter.
Great. He was killing it.
Valene waved at him one last time and popped up from her seat to join the gaggle of his safely married brothers and their wives—so unfair—standing at the edge of the excited crowd of women ready to bid on him like he was…well, a fat porkchop in the display case at the butcher’s shop.
It was times like this when he wondered how his life had come to this. How did he get here? He pushed out a long sigh that went unheard by the lively crowd. He scanned the group in search of a friendly face but didn’t see anyone who might help him.
Jack worried more than a little bit about who he’d end up owing twenty-four hours of his valuable time to. He hoped whoever wound up with the winning bid was someone practical. He could do some yardwork for her, maybe clean out a garage.
A second scan of the audience didn’t reveal much sense or sensibility.
This was going to be unfortunate.
He could practically smell his own downfall. The only thing going for him was the winning bidder would get twenty-four hours of his time, not a lifetime. Thankfully.
Aunt Dixie walked to center stage and waved her microphone until the restless crowd quieted down.
“Now, this fine specimen is our first bachelor of the evening!” Aunt Dixie, shouted, pointing at him like she’d just spotted a prize bull at the local farm auction.
Fine specimen? Really?
Applause erupted, interspersed with a few wolf whistles from the direction of his brothers. Jack tipped his head back and stared at the sky, wondering why instant-wish teleportation had not been invented yet.
Since wishing he could be transported off this stage wasn’t working, Jack reconsidered his plan to run hard and fast into the next county and hide in the woods. Even if there were possibly scary invisible monsters living there, it was preferable to this stage.
That was how much he did not want to be here.
He did not want to participate in the bachelor auction.
It seemed unfair that he was the only one of his brothers who didn’t have a wife to save him from this travesty.
He didn’t even have a fiancée, girlfriend or female friend who could help a guy out.
He’d checked repeatedly up to and including moments before stepping onto this stage.
Several hands shot into the air as Aunt Dixie rattled off her spiel like he was a piece of meat instead of a beloved nephew.
A few women he didn’t recognize—and some he was already acquainted with, unfortunately—shouted out questions.
He had zero desire to go out with any of them tonight or any other night.
If he had to participate in this farce, he needed to find someone neutral. Someone who wouldn’t expect anything more from him than the twenty-four hours his aunt had forced him to agree to.
Jack scanned the crowd for someone—anyone—who could save him from a date with a stranger but he didn’t see his salvation.
It was crazy that he didn’t have a single female friend he could call on in his hour of need.
He’d had tons of girlfriends and thought he was on good terms with all his exes after they’d gone their separate ways.
In fact, several of them were in the audience with their men, cheering on his coming date with the highest bidder.
To his knowledge, every woman he’d dated had moved on to a committed relationship or was engaged or married.
It had become so common that Jack decided he must be the starter boyfriend for every one of his exes.
He didn’t feel bad about his dating past and he had no regrets. Well, maybe one regret. But tonight, he needed a friendly savior and didn’t see a single, solitary soul who could help him.
The other thing that truly chapped his hide was that he had three single, eligible male cousins who had recently moved to Alienn. But were they here to share the suffering? Nope. Mica, Jett and Jasper Ashcraft were all off planet, on Alpha-Prime at some bauxite mining convention or something.
Suspicious timing in the extreme, if you asked him, but no one had.
Jack pushed out another long sigh, resigned to get through this difficult and unwanted process as quickly as possible.
“Jack Grey!” Aunt Dixie continued. “Local charmer, great with computers, and a certified heartbreaker—”
“Hey!” Jack protested.
“—with a heart of gold,” she added sweetly, then leaned closer to the microphone and made kissy sounds.
Jack dragged a hand down his face. This was his life now.
“All right, ladies,” Aunt Dixie said. “What lucky gal is going to take this one home for twenty-four hours of top-tier company?”
“Depends,” Jack muttered. “Do I get a say?”
“No,” his aunt said brightly. “Highest bidder wins you. That’s how an auction works.” She gave him a side-eye like he should know that.
“Figures.” He understood how auctions worked. He just didn’t want to be part of one.
“Now I’m going to hand you all over to our official auctioneer and master of ceremonies, Landon Markham.” She gestured to the man who bounded onto the stage to stand behind a makeshift podium, microphone in one hand, gavel it the other. “Take it away, Landon!”
He whacked the gavel once on the podium, as if warming up. “What’s my first bid for this handsome young man? How about we start at one hundred dollars,” Landon said to the crowd.
A hand shot up immediately.
“I’ll bid one hundred!” Lila Brent called. They’d dated long ago. She’d been Jack’s rebound date after—well, after his heart had been broken. She had been the first of many women he dated to soothe his wounded soul. They had all been temporary replacements for the one woman he couldn’t have.
Jack pointed at her, trying for an expression of comical disbelief. “You had your turn.”
“And I’d happily have another,” she shot back with a grin.
“One hundred and fifty!” Marcy Simmons chimed in. She was someone he’d rather avoid. He knew one date wouldn’t be enough for Marcy. She was clingy at best, stalker-like at worst and best avoided.
“One hundred seventy-five!” called someone from the back.
“Two hundred!” another voice rang out.
Jack leaned toward the edge of the stage, peering out over the crowd. “Y’all realize I come with baggage, right? Emotional. Possibly physical, if Aunt Dixie keeps feeding me complimentary pie.”
“Worth it!” someone yelled.
“Still friends with all his exes!” another voice added.
“Which should concern you,” Jack said.
“Or reassure us!” Lila countered.
Aunt Dixie fanned herself, put the glittery microphone back to her lips and said, “Look at that—no bad breakups. Trust me, that’s a rare quality in a man.”
“Or a sign I don’t commit,” Jack said.
“You committed to all of us,” Lila said. “Just not at the same time.”
The crowd lost it.
Jack shook his head at her. “That is not helping my case.”
“Sounds like you don’t need help,” someone else called.
Another wolf whistle sounded from the Grey peanut gallery.
“Two hundred and fifty!”
Was that Marcy again? Ugh.
“Two seventy-five!”
The numbers climbed fast, voices overlapping, laughter weaving through it all.
And then—
“Five hundred dollars.”
The voice cut clean through the noise. Sharp. Confident. Unamused.
Jack didn’t even have to look. He knew that voice. He closed his eyes briefly, wishing again for the ability to disappear at will. When his eyes opened, he was still on stage and he saw he was right about who had put in the most recent bid.
“Of course,” he muttered.
The bidder was someone even worse than the prospect of Marcy Simmons clinging to his side forevermore after a single purchased date.
Ashleigh Graves stood near the center of the crowd, arms crossed, expression cool and entirely too satisfied with herself for her commanding five-hundred-dollar bid.
Ashleigh, who had made it abundantly clear over the years that she found Jack Grey deeply interesting.
Jack, who had made it equally clear he did not return the sentiment. Every single time they encountered each other.
Their eyes met. She smiled at him, but it was not a sweet smile. It was not friendly. Oh, no. Her expression said that this was a challenge. She’d wanted him to bend to her will for years. He’d refused all of her advances. And this was her big chance.
Jack shook his head and pointed at her. “No. Just no.”