Though Sydney knew she hadn’t said anything wrong, Lemon seemed off, as though mentioning Mrs. McCoy had soured (for lack of a better word) Lemon’s personality.
“If I said something to hurt your—”
Lemon spun around, her hazel eyes rounded. “You didn’t say a thing wrong.” She grabbed one of Sydney’s hands and squeezed. “Thank you for agreeing to come over and spend time with me.” A shy smile graced her lips. “I don’t get to do this very often with other girls.”
“Because of Mark?”
“Because I don’t have very many girlfriends.” Letting go of Sydney, she marched to the rack of dresses and began to hold them up, indicating that she should drop the subject. “Which one do you like best? Go with your gut. Don’t pick the one you think I’ll like.”
“The gold one,” she blurted. “I’ve always wanted to wear a gold dress—you know, something that was daring, but elegant.”
Lemon nodded. “It’s perfect. As soon as I found it, I knew it was for you.”
Found it? “You’ve never worn it?”
Lemon concentrated on a spot over Sydney’s shoulder as she handed her the dress. “I haven’t had the chance.”
Sydney glanced down, admiring the silky material. A white tag stuck out and then she saw the size. Her gaze jerked up. “There’s no way we’re the same size.”
“I buy the things I like, regardless of size. They can always be tailored to fit me.” Lemon’s face turned a bright red and her lips trembled slightly. “Please take the dress. I’d like to help you. And, when you’re finished with it, I’m happy to take it back.”
Well, when she put it like that. “Are you kidding? Once I wear this dress, you might never get it back. Unless you let me trade it for a tiara.”
“Sounds like a deal to me. Now, about our plan…”
“Brody says Cherry is his date to the auction.”
“Not as of this evening, she won’t be,” she said confidently.
Sydney sat down on the edge of Lemon’s bed, the gold silk falling on her lap and then to the floor. She hastily gathered it up and tried to smooth out the invisible wrinkles. “But, how do you know? I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”
“My sister doesn’t lie. When she says she’s not going to date Brody or even be his date to the auction, then that’s what’s going to happen,” Lemon said firmly.
“Fine. But, what if, just in case Brody works his voodoo manliness and changes her mind, what then?”
“Voodoo manliness?”
“Yeah, you know that thing he does with his eyes.”
“Stare at people?”
“No… that thing he does with his mouth when he smiles?”
“I believe it’s called grinning.”
Sydney huffed. “You know what I mean.”
“And you know what I mean, when I say we have a plan and we’re sticking to it.”
“Can I at least get in on the plan?” Sydney asked.
“In a minute.” Lemon checked her phone.
“Why in a minute?”
“Because that’s when Cherry will be here. She’s coming up now.”
Sydney’s mouth dropped open. “Your sister, who’s currently dating the man I love, is going to help me get him?” Oh crap, she’d just admitted that she loved Brody.
“No, I’m going to do you one better. I’m going to help you seduce him,” Cherry said from the doorway. “True love requires sacrifice, and I’m completely on board with that.”
Chapter Six
‡
Brody surveyed the ballroom, searching for Sydney. He hadn’t seen her since last week at the game and hadn’t talked to her since Wednesday, when she called to cancel their matinée plans. She’d claimed she needed the time to get ready, but he knew the truth—she was avoiding him.
He didn’t blame Sydney, but he did hope they could get past it. Quickly. The rare tension between them was all consuming. Hell, not even Cherry saying she’d see him tonight rather than him picking her up like usual had bothered him as badly. It had hardly registered on his radar.
Kyle joined him at the bar, leaning back on his elbows. “Fancy party.”
Brody gave him a side-eyed look. “Nice tux, Rookie.”
The younger man pulled at his collar. “I haven’t worn one since prom, but when in Jessamine…”
“Women like it when we dress up. They bid a lot of money to see us like this, and all the money goes to help families in need,” Brody pointed out.
“I think they’d bid more if we stripped.”
Probably, but Brody wasn’t keen on his mother seeing him bare it all for charity. “Don’t even think about it. Stick to the script.” Or else hung in the air.
Kyle laughed. “I was yanking your chain, Captain.”
“Make sure that’s all you yank,” he muttered.
“Sweet Lord,” Kyle breathed. “Would you look at her?”
Figuring the “her” was one of the McCoy girls, Brody began to reply. “Cherry usually—”
“No, not her. Excuse me.” Kyle sprinted away.
He shook his head, muttering, “Rookie.”
Just then, Brody’s younger brother Tristan entered his line of vision, a scowl on his handsome face. “Shot of Jack and coke, no coke,” he said to the bartender.
Brody tipped up his chin in greeting. “Bad day at work?”
“I love my job,” Tristan said and downed his shot of Jack.
“Then what?” Really, what did his brother have to complain about? He had a great job, an amazing social life, and his pick of women. It baffled Brody…until he got a glimpse of the woman standing on stage—tiara placed just so on her bright red hair as she talked to the mayor. “You and Lemon have a fight?” He didn’t know why he asked. Tristan and Lemon were always at each other’s throats.
“What do you think?” Tristan snapped, his dark blue eyes—Lawson blue—glinted.
“I think you give her too much of a hard time.”
His brother gave him a scathing look. “She can take it, and she gives it right back.”
Normally, he’d think this was foreplay for a couple that didn’t want to admit that they were attracted to one another, but he’d seen them in action. There was no lost love, lost lust…nothing but animosity, which had sparked to life the minute they met.
“Fine, but I still don’t see how this could ruin your night.”
“Because of her.” Tristan gestured to Lemon.
“Maybe you need to speak real slow, brother, because I still don’t get it.”
Tristan ran a hand through his dark blond hair. “Doesn’t matter.” He asked for another shot and downed it. “What number are you?”
“Number two,” Brody replied.
“Good.” His brother grinned. “That means I won’t miss out. I’m lucky number seven.”
“Cherry bids on me every year,” Brody pointed out.
“That’s what I heard.”
“How will this year be any different?”
“Things can’t stay the same forever,” Tristan replied, a bit too cryptically for Brody’s liking.
“The only constant is change.”
“Exactly, except you butchered Heraclitus.”
Brody set his beer down. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Don’t butcher the classics.”
“Don’t be so pretentious.”
Tristan’s lips thinned. “Is it pretentious to insist proper procedure be followed while battling a fire, instead of shortcuts because really—who cares if I leave out a step, like screwing the water hose onto the hydrant? I’ll use a garden hose instead and have at it.”
It wasn’t the same, but his brother would argue with a bump on a log until the entire thing spontaneously disintegrated in defense. “Point taken.”
Tristan clapped him on the back. “Glad to see you’re okay with Sydney bidding on Kyle tonight.”
Son of a gun. That was the “her” Kyle had to scamper off to, not a McCoy. He sca
nned the room, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he caught a glimpse of Sydney. Her beautiful hair was gathered up on one side to show off the smooth column of her neck while the gold gown she wore clung to her body like a second skin.
“Holy mother of…” Brody couldn’t even finish his sentence, mostly because Kyle just put his arm around his girl. His eyes narrowed.
“Looks like I’m wrong,” Tristan said with a chuckle.
Brody almost stayed around to get his brother to repeat himself, but he had more important matters to attend to. Like breaking Kyle’s fingers off and feeding them to him.
Sydney shrugged out of Kyle’s embrace. He was nice and made her feel good about herself, but she wasn’t here for him tonight.
“Thanks for offering, but I already have a date.”
Kyle’s brown eyes danced. “You could always ditch him.”
She stifled a laugh. “I came with Lemon McCoy. It’s a girls’ night out.”
“Bring her, too. I’m open to new experiences.”
This time, she did laugh. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when a pretty woman like you is involved.”
“Oh Kyle,” she began. “I’m not—”
“Available, I know. Captain told me, but I wanted to make sure,” Kyle said, frowning. “It’s just…since he told me, I haven’t seen you with anyone—not that I’m stalking you, totally not—and that made me wonder if you’d broken up with your man.”
“My what?” Confused, Sydney grabbed Kyle by the arm and led him to a more private area of the ballroom. “Could you repeat what you said?”
“I was wondering if you’d broken up with your man,” he said, his frown giving way to a grin. He looked around. “Nice. Very private.”
She tapped his cheek with her finger. “Pay attention.”
That made him grin bigger. “Yes ma’am.” There was no mistaking the desire in his gaze.
Oh good Lord. “Brody said I was dating someone?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he say that?”
“Because I’m interested in you.” He winked.
Her stomach flipped. She couldn’t help it. Kyle was charming and flirting. With her. The woman who no one flirted with. It was a very heady feeling, like the time she drank an entire bottle of champagne after graduating from bank-teller training. Well, not the entire bottle since Brody had drank most of it. He’d bought it, too.
“I’m really flattered, but,” she began and Kyle’s confident grin began to fall. He would cause a scene. She knew it, and that was the last thing she needed tonight. Not many people knew she was there, and she didn’t want to have to field questions about her first-time appearance. There was no telling what she’d say.
Panicking, she blurted, “Could you get me another strawberry daiquiri? I’m parched.”
His entire face lit up. “Yes, ma’am.” He took off before she could tell him to stop calling her ma’am. Like every other woman she knew, she loved a man with good manners, but this man was eight years younger than her, and she didn’t needed to be reminded of the fact.
The lights dimmed, signaling that the auction was about to begin. The room fairly buzzed with excitement. The ladies of Jessamine were out in their finest and their men were dressed the same. Not since prom had she’d seen so many guys in black tuxes at once.
They made them look good, she thought with a smile.
Catching a glimpse of Brody, she sucked in a breath. Her stomach started flipping like a gymnast at the Olympics during a floor routine. She pressed the heel of her hand against it, but it didn’t help.
He looked sexy and handsome in his tux. The material of the coat stretched just right over his broad shoulders. What was it about a man in a tux? Then again, no other man in this room made her feel this way. Not even that charmer, Kyle.
Brody caught her eye and motioned to the door, but she shook her head. He frowned and headed in her direction.
There was no way she wanted to talk to him before the auction started. Lemon and Cherry had worked together to make sure Brody was up as quickly as possible so she wouldn’t lose her nerve. But, right now, with him almost at her table, she made a beeline for the ladies room.
He wouldn’t dare follow her inside, but as she glanced behind her, his long legs ate up the distance easily.
Crap, crap, crap.
“Gentleman, I need numbers one through five,” Lemon announced. “That includes you, Brody Lawson.”
He paused, eyes meeting Sydney’s. “Later,” he mouthed.
Sydney breathed out a sigh of relief before doubling back to her table. Kyle waited for her, one hand on her chair and the other holding her daiquiri. With a smile, she took the drink and allowed him to help her be seated.
“Whoa. Slow down,” Kyle chuckled as she gulped the fruity drink down. “There’s more where that came from.”
She gasped as the aftertaste of alcohol hit her. “Get me another one.”
He frowned. “I don’t want you drunk when we—”
“Did you see how much rum the bartender actually put in this? Hardly any. They’re here to make money, not lose it,” she pointed out.
Kyle touched Sydney’s shoulder as he murmured something she couldn’t make out.
“Up first is Lt. Wilson with Jessamine’s finest,” Lemon announced, distracting Sydney. “He loves animals and cooking for the special woman in his life. Who will start the bidding at one hundred dollars?”
Cherry sank down in the empty chair beside her. “Ready, doll?”
“Maybe after this one.” Sydney took another gulp of her daiquiri before Cherry grabbed the drink and set it away from her. “You don’t need this.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted.
“No, you don’t. Sit up and smile,” Cherry ordered. “You’re up next.”
“Sold for six hundred dollars to Missy Wilson,” Lemon said with a laugh. “Have fun, you two.”
It was Brody’s turn to strut down the stage and make all the ladies in here wish they could bid on him, instead of Cherry. She’d staked her claim a long time ago. But, tonight, everything was going to change.
If Sydney didn’t pass out first.
Chapter Seven
‡
Sydney’s hands turned clammy and her heart started beating so hard that she almost gasped. But instead of Brody hitting the stage, Kyle waltzed out.
Shirtless.
He scanned the crowd, shaking his hips and pointing at the women. There wasn’t any music, but that didn’t stop him from finding a rhythm to get the crowd going.
“Well,” she heard Cherry breathe beside her. “That’s not something you see every day.”
“Five hundred dollars,” a woman shouted from the back.
Lemon nodded at her, but before she could say a word, another woman doubled the bid. Kyle rubbed his hand down his stomach and glanced at Sydney, his full lips pouting.
“Sorry, buddy. I’m not bidding on you,” she muttered.
“Yes, you are,” Cherry said, seizing Sydney’s paddle. “Fifteen hundred.”
Eyes widening, Lemon repeated the bid. It seemed as though everyone in the entire room craned their neck to look at her table.
Sydney yanked her paddle back. “That was not a part of the plan,” she said through clenched teeth and a smile. “I thought I was supposed to bid on Brody and then get the heck out of dodge.”
Cherry leaned in. “You are, honey. Trust me.”
Kyle jumped off the stage and strutted to their table, getting up close and personal with Sydney. Out of nowhere, music started playing and everyone cheered.
Sydney peered around Kyle’s gyrating hips to glare at Cherry. “Someone else needs to bid because I can’t win two guys.”
A small, satisfied smile played on her lips. She nodded at the stage. “Someone needs to take a look at Brody Lawson’s face right now.”
Sydney didn’t need to be asked twice. She found him, his arms crossed and his
face dark. She’d never seen him look so pissed. Maybe he was jealous? Especially after that comment Kyle had made about Brody saying she was dating someone.
Then again, Kyle was dancing between her and Cherry. Plus, Brody only thought of her as a sister, so it stood to reason that he’d warn Kyle away.
She slumped down in’s her chair. This was never going to work. There was no way she could bid on Brody, win, and then tell him her feelings. Stuff like that only happened in movies or romance novels. Her life was most definitely not either of those.
“Oh my word,” Cherry giggled, pushing Kyle to one side. “He looks like he could spit nails. This is wonderful!”
“Going once,” Lemon said into the microphone.
Sydney dropped her head into her hands. “This is horrible.”
“Going twice.”
“Three thousand dollars!”
Everyone gasped. Lemon slammed the gavel down and yelled, “Sold. Three thousand dollars for Kyle Davidson’s time to, uh…Grandmother McCoy?”
Kyle stopped dancing. “Grandmother?”
Sydney had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing at the look on his face. “I’m so sorry, Kyle. I tried, but that’s too rich for my blood.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, and then seemed to reconsider his situation as a smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. “Heck yes. I challenge the rest of y’all to bring in as much as,” he ran a hand down his chest and abs, “this did.” He pointed to the left. “I’m coming for you, ma’am. Better get ready.”
Tears were falling from Sydney’s eyes as she shook and wheezed.
“Ah hell, honey,” Kyle said, kneeling. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
She nodded, covering her mouth so he couldn’t see the smile she could no longer keep inside. “I understand. It’s just so…” Crap. It wasn’t anything but funny, and she couldn’t think of another word.
“Devastating,” Cherry supplied. “Sydney is completely beside herself. Maybe it’s best if you go sit with Grandmother McCoy so Sydney can compose herself. Bless her heart.”
Brown eyes full of compassion stared up at her. “Maybe later?”
Love So Hot Page 4
