Keeping Sawyer Farms a top-tier breeding ranch is my priority. Sure, we have a highly qualified staff. But this is our legacy, mine and Brooke’s, and I won’t let it get side-lined by my testosterone-fueled impulses.
Love is only a fairy tale con designed to break hearts. Look at my mom. My dad ran off for no reason, leaving her with two kids to take care of. And Gramps? He lost his daughter to an aneurysm, which no parent should ever have to face, and Grandma to heart disease.
No fucking thank you. Not interested. Besides, I had my fair share of casual flings and hookups with buckle bunnies on the rodeo circuit. But not as many as people might think. Being a professional cowboy requires a lot of endurance, with regular workout routines as well as practice time.
Still, I can’t remember the last time a woman made me nervous. Or the last time I gave a damn what anyone thought of me. Hallie does both, and I don’t know what to do with that. But Hallie’s not the type you hook up with and walk away from. She’s the kind you stick around for.
And that’s one more reason why I should stay the hell back.
But I’m bound to see her at the auction tomorrow. Earlier this morning, I met Gentry at Legacy Formals for a tux fitting. Brooke had to call in favors to get them on such short notice, which is why Nate Dawson showed up at the same time we did. He was a last-minute entry, too.
He owns The Bait Shop, part sporting goods store, part restaurant. A year older than Gentry and me, he played football with us before joining the military at eighteen. Got out at twenty-two and was running his own successful business a few years later. He’s good people.
I’m pretty sure the guy’s got feelings for my old high school girlfriend, Liz. While we were getting measured, he asked if I’d talked to her since getting into town. When I told him I don’t keep in touch and don’t plan to, he just nodded and dropped it.
That’s the thing about small towns. People have long memories. Liz and I were Stone Ridge High’s golden couple.Toxic as hell, like most teenage relationships, but we had our moments.
My mind keeps wandering back to Hallie, though. Two years younger than me in school. I wish I’d noticed her more back at the time. But what would’ve been the point? I was busy drinking, partying, and making it clear I wasn’t interested in anything serious—not even with Liz.
Standing in the three-way mirror, the thought of Hallie seeing me cleaned up and in a tux made my chest tighten.
Fuck. Seems like all I do these days is think about Hallie. Her laugh. That strawberry cupcake. The way she didn’t back down when I was being an ass about the horse cookies. I should be focused on ranch business like Maisie’s pregnancy and the new breeding contracts, not daydreaming about my sister’s best friend like some lovesick teenager.
But she’ll be at the auction. Why does the thought of her possibly bidding on me make my pulse kick up?
I step inside the community center, which has been converted into a holiday Winter Wonderland. Garland and twinkle lights are strung everywhere with red bows and large wreaths on pretty much every wall. I’d rather be anywhere but here.
A large Christmas tree stands in the entryway, gold and silver ornaments mixed in with touches of red. There’s already a mountain of festively wrapped presents spilling out from under the skirt of the tree and onto the surrounding tiles where I place my wrapped gift for Toys for Tots. Gentry follows suit, then we move toward the registration table.
I spot Brooke first, her hair up in a million little twists, her cheeks bright. I can’t believe she convinced me to be auctioned off to the highest bidder like a prize steer. Then I catch a flash of strawberry-blonde, and my pulse stutters.
Hallie.
Why does she have to be so damn gorgeous? Her sleeveless floor-length gown is emerald green, the kind that makes people look twice. The plunging V-neckline dips low enough to make my mouth go dry, framed by delicate ruffles that climb up one shoulder. The fitted bodice cinches at the waist before releasing into layers of fabric that swirl around her legs.
Her strawberry hair hangs loose in sexy waves, her red lipstick the exact shade that’ll haunt my dreams tonight. She looks like some kind of goddess sent to this godforsaken bachelor auction to ruin me completely.
“Hey there, Cupcake.” My voice is low, meant just for her.
Her face heats. “Don’t call me that.”
“Too late. It suits you.” Flirting doesn’t cost a thing.
She opens her mouth—to argue or agree, I’m not sure—but Liz Beck appears out of nowhere, her hand landing on my chest before I can step back.
“It is so good to see you, Colt.” She’s wearing a red sequined dress that leaves little to the imagination, her hand lingering longer than necessary as she leans in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll see you in there.” She winks, turning to Gentry. “I may just have to bid on both of you boys.”
She walks away, hips swinging in sky-high stilettos, and I catch the look on Hallie’s face, somewhere between disgusted and furious. Brooke looks equally unimpressed.
The wide-eyed panic that hits me must show, because Gentry throws his head back laughing and slaps my back. “This is gonna make for one interesting night, my friend.”
Chapter 6
Hallie
It takes every ounce of maturity in my bones not to mimic the way Liz said, “I may just have to bid on both you boys.”
And how she walked off, her hips swinging and her calves looking perfect in her red lace-up stilettos? What is wrong with her?
