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Don’t get ahead of yourself, Lauren. It’s only been a month.
I shake my head to clear it, but by the time I’m done, it’s clear Garrett’s already been speaking, and I missed it.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
He winces before repeating himself, and my eyebrows pull together. “I was thinking this might be a good time to give you some awkward information, but I’m seeing now maybe I was wrong.”
I shake my head again. “I just didn’t hear you before. What’s the information?”
“Well, tomorrow night is going to be our Valentine’s,” he hedges, and I roll my eyes.
“Yes, you already told me that.”
“Right.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Sunday, though, we’re having an auction down at the firehouse…”
“Oh yeah, the auction!” I’d almost forgotten because I was so distracted when my dad told me about it and never texted a reminder like I asked.
“You know about the auction?” Garrett asks slowly, leaning into the fridge and crossing his arms over his chest while I lean back into the island.
“Yes. Well, sort of. My dad told me it was happening and asked me to come. What else do I need to know?”
“He wanted you to come to a bachelor auction at the firehouse?” Garrett asks, mystified.
I shake my head and laugh. “Yes. But not to, like, bid on someone. I believe he said, though I may be paraphrasing a little, ‘Just to observe, Laurie. I’m not asking you to bid on any of these assholes.’”
“Right. That makes more sense.”
“So, yeah,” I start, and then suddenly, it hits me.
It’s a bachelor auction. To them, to my dad, Garrett is a bachelor. All because I’ve been too big of a fucking chicken to tell him we’re in a relationship!
“I-I knew…” I finally stutter. “I guess I just didn’t realize you’d be participating.”
“Lauren—”
“But of course you are. To them, you’re single. To them, you’re the ultimate bachelor, the perfect money draw, the—”
“Lauren.”
“I’m fine. Really. Fine.”
“Jake says that word doesn’t mean what I think it means.”
I laugh. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. He gave, like, a whole lecture about it one morning on a run on the beach.” He lowers his voice, which is already deep, so I’m not sure why, and pretends to be Jake. “Fine does not mean fine, Garrett. It means something is wrong, very wrong, and you better get a handle on it before it burns out of control.”
He shrugs, adding, “I think he used the fire metaphor to be cute. It wasn’t entirely necessary to get his point across.”
“Well, he’s probably right most of the time, but I’m really okay.”
Freaked, but okay.
I think. Mostly okay. Okay-ish at a push.
“You do not look okay.”
“I’m just…processing. That’s all.”
“I can pull out of the auction. I can say I’m not doing it. Say I just met someone. I don’t have to say it’s you.”
“No, come on.” I shake my head. “This isn’t that big of a deal. It’s a charity thing for one day, not a sex-trade auction, right? I mean, you’re not actually going to sleep with whoever wins, are you?”
He shakes his head. Eyes certain. “Definitely not.”
“Then it’s no big deal.”
“Okay. Just…if you change your mind, you have to tell me, okay? No telepathically expecting me to know. We can go down together. Tell your dad we’re together. I don’t have to follow through with this.”
I laugh. Yeah, we’re not doing that. I definitely have to tell my dad on my own because I’d really rather not be there to witness Garrett’s attempted murder. “I promise I’ll tell you if I change my mind. But it’s fine.”
His eyes narrow, and I jump to correct my mistake.
“Good. Splendid. Okay. Anything but fine.”
It’s not that big of a deal, I tell myself.
The jury’s still out on whether or not I believe it.
February 15th
Lauren
Rose petals cover the table, and a double candelabra lights the center. The low light is unbelievably romantic as it flickers between us.
I don’t know what I was expecting when Garrett told me we’d have to have our “Valentine’s date” today instead of yesterday, but it wasn’t…this.
It paled in comparison, if I’m completely honest.
I was expecting, I don’t know…burgers. Fries. Milk shakes. Not flower petals and candles and romance and a suit and tie and the need for five-inch heels in the middle of Garrett’s living room.
Garrett holds out a single long-stemmed red rose from the other side of the table and smiles.
I’m immediately at a loss for what to say, my purse still on my shoulder and my jeans riding low on my hips. I’m severely underdressed for the occasion.
I changed my outfit three times, but I never even considered the floor-length gown in the back of my closet when I was flipping through my options.
“I…this is all so beautiful, Garrett. I had no idea… I didn’t expect you to put in so much effort. We haven’t been dating for that long, and I definitely did not dress appropriately—” I ramble, only to be cut off by a literal walking, talking romance novel hero.
