Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Madison stood in front of the full-length mirror in Mason and Eve’s bedroom, hands on her hips, eyeing her reflection like she was assessing a mission objective.
Okay, so this is a choice.
She had curled gentle waves into her hair, swiped on some mascara and a sheer gloss, and slid into a summer dress that cinched at the waist and flowed just enough to feel effortless.
The soft blue fabric made her eyes pop, and the strappy wedge sandals—the ones with the delicate ties wrapping up her calves—made her legs look about a mile long.
She wasn’t one for getting dressed up without a purpose, and yet . . . here she was.
Her phone dinged.
I expect photographic proof that you are at the auction and not sitting at home people-watching from the patio.
Eve had texted from Minneapolis, where she and Mason lived close to the original Northern Lights Brewery.
Madison smirked and typed back:
What, no faith in me?
None.
With a sigh, Madison took a picture of herself in the mirror, sent it to Eve, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door, her mind still trying to justify why she was doing this.
The truth? She wasn’t just going to watch the auction.
She was going to bid on Garrett.
And if she was going to publicly throw money at him, she figured she should at least look good while doing it.
But why?
Well. Pure strategy, obviously, she told herself. Four perfectly good reasons.
She ticked the reasons off in her head. Reason #1: The bachelor auction was raising money for veterans, which was always a good cause.
She’d researched Deer Creek Falls before coming, and it was clear that the new veterans’ center provided a much-needed service for recovering vets. Bidding was just being a good citizen.
Reason #2: Garrett would hate it—which, frankly, made it even more appealing. Watching him squirm while being paraded in front of the town? Absolutely priceless. She couldn’t fathom the Garrett she knew agreeing to be anywhere near the spotlight.
Not that she knew him well. The only time she’d seen him was when he came back to Minneapolis for a few days to see Mason and talk business. He’d avoided her like the plague. She’d tried to carry on a conversation, but he wasn’t interested in making nice.
Reason #3: She could use the date she would win as leverage. She’d make him a deal. She’d worked hard to learn the cider-making process when she had needed to keep busy. And she was proud of what she’d accomplished.
Reason #4: She looked too damn good to stay home.
All four perfectly good reasons, but there was one problem. Somewhere beneath all the logical reasons, the ones that made sense, was a gut feeling that she couldn’t quite shake.
As she got in line at the auction site for her paddle, heart pounding a little too fast, she had a sneaking suspicion that her rational reasons were only half the story.
Garrett Reid entered the large white canvas tent staked to the pavement near the Eagle’s Nest Bar she bit her lower lip, holding in the take-me-now reaction bubbling under the surface.
She felt her face flush. How could she be so insanely attracted to Garrett Reid?
She loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, and the way he relaxed in front of his small-town community, like he was trying not to enjoy the attention.
It was the fact that, for all his grump and grumble she’d encountered in Minneapolis, he was here under a tent raising money for veterans. Maybe it was family obligation like Eve mentioned, but he still showed up.
And something about that endeared him to her.
Because as much as she’d love to torment him for the sheer fun of it, as much as she wanted to use the auction as a tactical advantage, there was a tiny, annoying voice in her head whispering, You don’t want anyone else to “win” him.
Madison squared her shoulders, shaking off the thought. Ridiculous.
This wasn’t about Garrett. This was about fundraising, business leverage, and a little harmless mischief. Keep telling yourself that, Madison!
Garrett climbed the two steps onto the stage. Elsie reached out her hand and grabbed his good wrist. She probably thought he’d take off if she didn’t hold on to him. The thought did cross his mind.
“With great pleasure,” Elsie announced to the crowd, “I’d like to introduce you to Garrett Reid.
He’s a renowned architect who came home to Deer Creek Falls last year and transformed the old armory into a second location for Northern Lights Brewery, and it’s spectacular! Tell us, Garrett, when is opening day?”
She held the mic close for him to answer.
“We’re opening in a few weeks,” he said. “Check social media for updates and be sure to stop by and see us.”
He nodded and flashed the crowd a smile.
Women whistled and screamed. For some reason, the crowd of lonely women waved dollar bills in the air.
Maybe he could get used to this. How bad could it be?
He hadn’t been on a date since he moved back to town almost a year ago, his sole focus and energy concentrated on the brewery.
“Alright, dinner at the Blue Ox with Garrett. Let’s start the bid at one hundred dollars!”
“One hundred!” Ruth hollered.
What was his mom doing bidding on him? How humiliating. He scowled at her to let her know it wasn’t okay.
Then the bidding started. “Two hundred!” The bids increased by fifty dollars each time a paddle raised.
Garrett winked at his mom. Leave it to her to start a bidding war.
“Nine hundred!”
“Twelve hundred!”
“Fifteen hundred!”
“Come on, ladies, you can do better than that!” Elsie said as she called out the numbers on the paddles.
“Three thousand dollars!”
The crowd gasped all at once, searching for the mystery person with deep pockets. Garrett shifted his weight to try and find the woman who’d doubled the bid, but could only see the paddle.
Elsie squeezed his hand. “Going once, going twice. SOLD to number forty-one!”
He tried to get a look at the winning bid slip in Elsie’s hand while she maintained a firm grip on his uninjured arm, but she shielded it from him.
Someone he couldn’t see had bid three thousand dollars. Hopefully it wasn’t a rich tourist looking to take home a trophy. He shuddered at the thought.
He had survived the bidding process, barely, by channeling his happy-go-lucky brother, Cole, as much as he could while the town hollered like they were at an auction for prime cattle.
He should’ve known better than to let Cole talk him into filling in.
But Cole was in Hawaii, and Garrett had been too distracted to put up a real fight when he had asked for the favor.
Plus, being happy for his brother made it worth the humiliation.
“And the winner of a date with Garrett Reid is . . . Madison Mitchell!”
For a full three seconds, his brain rejected reality.
Madison? Madison’s here?
His gaze snapped to the crowd, searching, scanning. He had told Mason not to send her to help with the brewery opening, because he was afraid if she came, he wouldn’t be able to maintain a business relationship. Then he saw her, which cemented his initial thought.
Holy hell.
Madison made her way to the front, that troublemaking grin firmly in place, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
And worse—she looked . . . good.
No, not just good.
Distraction-level beautiful.
The kind of beautiful that made his thoughts scatter like spilled grains on a brewery floor.
Madison’s calves were wrapped in some kind of strappy satin that led to her wedge sandals, which made her long, tanned legs look even longer. The soft blue dress she wore flowed around her like she belonged on a sun-drenched vineyard, not standing in the middle of a small-town charity auction.
Her sun-kissed brown hair curled over her shoulders, loose waves that made it impossible not to think about running his fingers through them. She had on just enough makeup to make her eyes pop, but not so much that it made her look overly polished.
Not meaning to, he licked his lips, finding them suddenly dry.
He should not be noticing Madison’s sexy body.
Because Madison wasn’t a small-town girl.
She was his business partner’s twin sister.
Last year he had danced and flirted with her.
At the time, she’d been nothing more than a mystery—an anonymous woman at a masquerade gala in Minneapolis, draped in deep blue satin.
After the unforgettable hours of talking and dancing close, he’d fully intended to find her again.
But then he’d caught sight of her tattoo, and everything had changed.
He wouldn’t risk making the same mistake twice.
Before he could sort through any of it, Nick’s dreaded call came, sending his life off course.
By the time he returned to Minneapolis after his father’s recovery, his focus had shifted to business.
He and Mason began discussing the possibility of opening a second location, and when Madison arrived to learn the ropes, he did his best to keep his distance.
Thankfully, ownership came with endless responsibilities, giving him plenty of excuses to stay busy and out of her way.
Still, the pull he’d felt that night at the masquerade hadn’t faded. If anything, it lingered just beneath the surface. At least Madison hadn’t connected the dots—and he intended to keep it that way.
Plus, no way could she be planning on staying in Deer Creek Falls. She’d be bored out of her mind.
She wasn’t going to suddenly wake up one day and think “You know what? I’d love to build a life here with a guy who brews beer for a living, in a town that thrives on tourists and Fourth of July parades.”
And he already knew what happened when one fell for someone who wasn’t meant for this kind of life.
His ex-fiancée had wanted the architect version of him, the one who wore suits and shook hands at her father’s firm. She hadn’t wanted the man who quit to chase a dream before craft breweries were a thing.
And she sure as hell hadn’t wanted a life in a small town.
So why was he standing here like a damn idiot, trying to push away the obvious fact that Madison Mitchell had just bid on him and won?
He was sent offstage to meet his date, and before he could say anything, his family descended on Madison like a bear to honey. His mom, Ruth, introduced herself and immediately gave Madison a hug. His sister, Chloe, waggled her eyebrows and asked if Madison knew what she was getting herself into.
Garrett managed to extricate her from the well-meaning but entirely too nosey crowd and guided her toward the pop-up bar. He ordered two lemonades. By the way Madison looked at him, she was thoroughly enjoying his discomfort as she sipped her drink.
“Tell me you didn’t bid on me because Mason put you up to it,” he said.
Madison’s lips curved up in a slow, lazy smile. “Would you believe me if I said it was purely for charity?”
“No.”
She laughed, tilting her head. “What, you don’t think I wanted to contribute to the veterans’ center?”
“Madison.” His tone was warning. “Why?”
She sighed, setting her drink down on the bar. “Alright, fine. You want the truth?”
“That would be nice.”
She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to make him aware of how close she was. “I figured if I won, I could use our ‘date’ to talk you into a business deal.”
His stomach tightened—from frustration, from the way she smelled like citrus and something faintly floral, from the fact that this was Madison and she was standing too damn close.
He exhaled sharply. “Let me guess. Cider.”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “Bingo.”
Garrett rubbed a hand down his face. “You do realize there were easier and less expensive ways to have that conversation, right? Like, normal business negotiations?”
Madison grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?” She picked up her drink again and sucked on the slim straw.
He shifted his stance. “You bid on me so you could blackmail me into adding cider to the brewery menu?”
“Blackmail is a strong word,” she said, tilting her head. “I prefer to think of it as . . . leveraging an opportunity.”
Garrett let out a soft, grumbling sigh. Of course she did.
This woman was going to drive him insane.
And worse—he couldn’t even be mad about it. Because deep down, somewhere past the irritation and frustration, there was a small, stupid part of him that liked it.
Liked that she challenged him.
Liked that she didn’t back down.
Liked that she’d looked at him, standing on that stage, and wanted him enough to place a bid. No matter the reason.
And that?
That was dangerous. Because, again, Madison wasn’t a small-town girl.