Bringing Home the Bachelor

by Sarah M. Anderson

  “Won’t take long, Billy,” she said, and he didn’t hear “scared” in her voice. He heard gentle teasing. And maybe something else—the same thing he’d deluded himself into thinking he’d heard for the past few days. Attraction. Desire.

  He felt ridiculous standing this close to her, paper border in hand. She arranged the border to her liking and stapled it up. Then she handed him the stapler. “If you don’t mind, since you’re down there.” And she smiled at him. Because of the chair, she was practically looking him straight in the eyes.

  He didn’t have the first clue about what to do. If he were his brother Ben, he’d come up with something logical to say that would get him out of this. If he were his brother Bobby, he’d make a move on her.

  But he wasn’t either. So he did some stapling and forced himself to look anywhere but at her.

  Billy was trying so hard not to look at her that when she put her hands on his shoulders, he jumped. With a little bit of force, she turned him to face her. “You don’t, you know.”

  He swallowed. “I don’t what?”

  “You don’t scare me.” She ran her tongue over her lower lip. It made her look hungry.

  “Sure I do. You said so yourself.”

  Her hands slid from his shoulders toward his neck with a slow, sure pressure. “Maybe. There was a maybe in that sentence. Which means there’s a maybe not.”

  She was pulling him in closer, and he’d be damned if he was powerless to stop her. She looked like she was going to kiss him and it looked like he was going to let her.

  “Then why did you say it?” Shoot, his voice wasn’t tough or even scary. It was something low and deep, but quiet, a voice that he rarely heard himself use—unless he was trying to sweet-talk a woman. And if he was trying to sweet-talk this woman, even he had to admit he was doing a poor job of it.

  “Because I didn’t want to do this in front of Seth.”

  She pulled him into her and kissed him. Her lips crushed against his with enough force that he let out a low groan. Man, she smelled so good, felt even better.

  She kissed with her eyes closed. Billy knew this because he was so stunned that he couldn’t do anything but stare at her. Her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink, which made her look soft. Beautiful. Innocent.

  Innocent women didn’t kiss him.

  Which meant this had to be either a mistake or the most dangerous game of chicken he’d ever played.

  Was she trying to prove that she wasn’t afraid of him? Fine. He’d had that happen to him before, back when he was wild and crazy. For a long time, he’d enjoyed the attention. It’d felt good to have women throw themselves at him, even if it led to a lot of bar brawls with angry boyfriends. Every time he started making out with some nameless woman on a Saturday night, he’d felt like shoving Ashley’s face in it—see? Other women wanted him. Other women fought over him.

  It had been an ego trip—for a while. Then the nameless, faceless kissing—often followed by some nameless, faceless sex? It left him hurting more than any hangover ever would. So he’d stopped doing it. Going to bars, picking up women, getting drunk every other night—all of it.

  Maybe that was why he hadn’t done any dating after making the business a success. True, the business was a success because he stayed out of the bars. But when high-society women hit on him at the functions Bobby or Ben made him attend, it reminded him of how hollow he’d felt back in the day.

  Which meant he was out of practice. If he were in a bar now, more than a little drunk, he’d pick Jenny up and push her against a wall. Because what he wanted was to sink into the softness of her body and forget everything but the woman who had a hold of him.

  But he wasn’t in a bar. He was standing in a classroom. And he would not rise to her bait. Although his body wasn’t exactly paying attention to that direct order.

  At the very least, he wasn’t going to sweep her off that chair and pull her into his chest. He wasn’t going to do anything like that, because if he did, he knew damn good and well that he would scare the hell out of her. She had no idea what kind of fire she was playing with.

  Then she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue, and Billy’s resolve weakened. Hell, everything weakened. He was physically shaking from holding his arms at his sides, when all he wanted to do was wrap them around her.

  She was beautiful kissing him—so beautiful he wanted to step out of himself and watch the whole thing. He might never get another chance at this kind of sweetness.

  Finally, she pulled back. Her lips parted, she was breathing heavily with her eyes still closed. Then she licked her lips again. She was trying to taste him, he realized. That made him want to kiss her again. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman so much.

  Then her eyelids fluttered open, and he saw that look in her eyes—want. Pure and simple. She wanted him.

  This would be the perfect time to fish a compliment out of the depths of his brain.

  He had nothing. Instead, he said, “No kissing in front of the kid. Good rule.”

  A smile tugged at her mouth. She looked as if she was going to say something else, but then a door slammed.

  “Hey, Billy,” Seth called out, his voice echoing down the hall. Jenny’s eyes shot wide with alarm. “I got the shop all swept.”

  Right. This would be test number one of the new no-kissing rule. Moving as fast as he could without pulling Jenny off the chair, Billy stepped back and put a desk between them. Seconds later, Seth came bounding—there was no other word for it—into the room. “Oh, hey.” He eyed them suspiciously.

  “That border looks straight.” It was the first thing that popped into Billy’s mouth.

  Jenny blinked at him before turning around. “Oh, yes. Great. Thanks for your help.”

  “Are we gonna weld again in the morning? I’ve got some boots at home. I’ll wear those.” At least the awkward moment didn’t faze the kid.

  “You do that.”

  Jenny climbed down off her chair. She wasn’t exactly staring at the floor, but she wasn’t exactly looking at him, either. But she wasn’t afraid of him. That much he felt sure about now. She hadn’t kissed him to prove a point. She’d kissed him because she wanted to.

  That simple fact was more than enough to muddle his thinking. So when she ushered him and Seth outside and locked up the school, he found himself staring at her.

  She caught him and rewarded him with one of her sunny smiles. “We’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  He watched them get in the car. He’d see them tomorrow.

  Man, he couldn’t wait to come back to school.

  Seven

  Billy got to the school extra early the next morning. He’d worked in his garage all night, as if he could build an eloquent response to Jenny. He wondered if he’d get another chance to kiss her today. Wasn’t going to be easy. No kissing in front of her kid—or any other kid, for that matter—and no way in hell he was making a move on her anywhere near a camera. Which limited their options.

  The bad news was that Jenny wasn’t at school when he rolled up. The worse news? Bobby’s sports car was. Damn. Billy was rarely in the mood to talk with his baby brother. He loved the guy, he did, but ever since Bobby had put Billy on camera he’d had trouble thinking charitable thoughts about the guy. Today was no exception.

  Bobby was sitting at the worktable, sipping what was probably a twelve-dollar cup of coffee. At least he looked tired.

  Bobby was everything Billy wasn’t—handsome, smooth, smart, good with women—hell, good with people. And he always got his way. He had Bruce Bolton, their father, in his back pocket. Seriously, how many other people could just decide to put the family on a reality internet show and make it happen? Only Bobby. Everything he touched turned to gold.

  This particular morning, Billy couldn’t remember ever being as jealous of his little brother as he was right now. Bobby would know how to handle the situation with Jenny. But Billy wasn’t about to ask his little brothe
r for advice. That was the road straight to hell. So he stuck to the obvious. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need a reason to hang out with you?”

  “Before seven in the morning? Yeah, you do.” To distract himself, Billy picked up the frame he and Seth had welded last night and tested the joints. They held. The kid’s work wasn’t half-bad.

  “I wanted to talk to you.” The only thing more dangerous than Bobby as a smooth talker was Bobby as a serious businessman. And that was his serious-business voice.

  “Now what? Going to put cameras in my bedroom? Film me in the shower?”

  When Bobby didn’t have a snappy comeback, Billy knew he was screwed. He turned to his brother, frame still in hand. A man could do a lot of damage with some welded pipe. A lot of damage.

  Bobby sat there, sipping his coffee as if this were another regular early-morning call. Maybe he hadn’t done a good enough job keeping Jenny off the camera. No doubt Bobby wanted to develop the feelings Billy was having for the schoolmarm into some sort of plotline for his show.

  “No way in hell—over my dead body.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you.” Bobby had the nerve to smile. Billy wanted to cave his teeth in.

  “Okay, fine. Ask away. The answer is no.”

  “The footage looks good. You’re doing well with that boy—what’s his name?”

  “Seth.” Billy didn’t so much say it as growl it.

  “Yes, yes. Seth. I think women are going to go wild for this new, softer side of you.”

  Billy snorted. He didn’t want “women” to go wild for him. Just the one.

  That thought took him by such surprise that he didn’t have a snappy comeback for what Bobby said next. “I’ve been in talks with the owner of the FreeFall network—heard of them?”

  “I don’t watch TV.”

  “You might have to start.” Bobby grinned like some sort of fool, which made Billy think that was supposed to have been a joke. He wasn’t laughing. “The man’s name is David Caine. He’s interested in picking up the show as a midseason replacement. If we can make the magic number of hits for the webisodes.”

  Billy wished he had gotten some sleep, because as it was, he couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t a nightmare. “You’re serious? Filming me and putting it on the web isn’t enough?”

  “This is huge, Billy.”

  “I don’t want to be famous.” Fame was making it extra hard to figure out how to court a nice, normal woman like Jenny. Fame was making him twitchy. Fame was ruining his life. “You’re the one who wants to be famous. Why don’t you film yourself?”

  “I’m not as interesting as you are.” Billy rolled his eyes at this, but Bobby continued. “You make these awesome bikes and you don’t take crap from anyone.” Was that a compliment? A sincere one? But then Bobby ruined it by adding, “Not even first-grade teachers with attitude problems.”

  “You watch your mouth.” It came out so fast that Billy didn’t have time to realize what he was saying.

  Bobby’s eyes widened. “You like her?”

  He could see the wheels in Bobby’s head turning. Bobby would try to strong-arm Jenny into playing out their little flirtation—or whatever the hell it was—on camera.

  “Well. That’s…interesting.” Boy, Billy hated that grin. “But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

  “It isn’t?” That wasn’t like the twit, to have an advantage and not press it. The warning bells in Billy’s head got a little louder.

  “Josey said I have to get your approval for this.”

  “Approval for what?”

  “You’re building that bike to be auctioned off for the school, correct?” He gestured to the frame Billy had forgotten he was still holding.

  “Yeah…” Any second now, it’d hit—the catch. There was always a catch.

  “I’ve come up with a way to auction the bike that’s going to maximize both our profit and our exposure level.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Bobby smiled again, but this time Billy could tell he was nervous. “It means that, when we auction off the chopper, I think we should also auction off some bachelors.”

  Before Billy could process that, Bobby stood and began pacing. “Hear me out. You’re the reason we’re getting the views we’ve been getting, but we need to hit it hard. What better way than to sell you to the highest bidder for a night? We’d have a packed house of who’s who. Hell, we could invite some of our celebrity customers. You know how high-society people like to buy things for charity. Plus, we’d get our webisode hits—gruff biker in a tux!—and we’d raise a hell of a lot of money for the school.” He paused and turned to face Billy, beaming like an idiot. “Everyone wins!”

  After several moments, Billy became aware that he was standing with his jaw hanging about midchest. Out of all the ludicrous things he’d ever heard—including making him an internet star—this took the cake. “Are you on drugs?”

  Bobby’s smile cracked a little. “It won’t be just you. Dad said we could auction him off, and me, of course.” He puffed out his chest a little. “Ben’s out, though. Josey was firm about that. But the guys in Ben’s band already said yes. I have a few other leads on eligible, willing bachelors. All I need is you.”

  “Josey thinks this is a good idea?” Their sister-in-law was an all-around down-to-earth woman. But she was also a corporate fund-raiser…. He was possibly screwed in the worst sort of way.

  “Absolutely. I did a little research, put together a spreadsheet for her showing the kind of returns these sorts of events bring in. She was impressed.”

  “Let me see it.” Not that he loved spreadsheets, but it must have been a hell of a file to sway Josey.

  Bobby looked dumbfounded. “I didn’t bring it.”

  Billy wanted to pummel his brother. Ben—the good brother—went over the company financial statements with Billy every month and they discussed Billy’s portfolio every three months. He knew exactly where the company stood and which investments his own money was tied up in. He may not know what to do with it all, but he knew where it was. “There’s no way in hell you can auction me off to the highest bidder.”

  Bobby’s smile turned scheming. “A bachelor auction has the potential to raise another fifty thousand bucks for the school, William. You know who’d like another fifty grand? A certain teacher would probably love some additional money to buy supplies. I imagine those kids go through a lot of crayons. You want me to tell her you said no to more school supplies for those tykes?”

  So that’s what this was—blackmail. “I’ll buy her a box of crayons. I’m not going to be auctioned off.”

  Bobby was ready for him. “You know who else would love a bigger budget? Don. He was telling me how he wants an after-school program for the boys—part sports, part shop, part keeping them out of trouble. He doesn’t have any money for it now. You could change that.”

  Billy glared at his little brother. Of course he’d use Billy’s love of shop against him. If Billy had had a program like that, he probably wouldn’t have gotten his high school girlfriend pregnant, and probably wouldn’t have been such a screwup that she’d known what a terrible father he would have made. If only Billy had had something like that, his whole life might have turned out differently.

  He had plenty of money. Maybe he could ask Ben to move some of it around. Hell, he’d rather just cut the school a check than be a part of a bachelor auction. Bobby was looking at him, expecting Billy to agree to being bought and sold for what was little more than a ratings stunt.

  “Go to hell, creep.”

  “Come on, man! I’m talking about one night of your life. I hadn’t realized how selfish you are.”

  Billy was selfish? After he agreed to make his life a matter of public record for the sake of the family business? After he agreed to foot the bill for a custom-built chopper to auction off for the school? Hell, no.

  Billy had never played football. He
’d been plenty tough, but he’d never had grades that were even close enough for the coaches to look the other way. Both his brothers had, though. Which is why Bobby should have seen the hit coming.

  Billy dropped the frame and covered the distance—maybe ten feet—between him and Bobby before the metal clanged on the ground. With a satisfying “Oomf!” Billy hit his baby brother with enough force that they moved the worktable a good six feet before forward momentum stopped.

  They’d always done this—fighting, Mom had called it. Dad insisted it was harmless tussling and never broke it up. Some days, Bobby came out on top—he was a fast sucker and had a solid left hook. But he couldn’t match Billy for sheer strength.

  “I’ll build bikes for you and your little show, but that doesn’t give you the right to sell me on the open market. You got that?”

  Behind them, a door slammed and someone gasped. Crap. Billy had forgotten about Seth. He dropped Bobby and spun around to see Seth’s eyeballs all but jumping out of his head. “Hey.”

  “You, uh, you guys okay? I can come back later….” Seth edged for the door.

  Billy shot Bobby a warning glance. Had Bobby connected the kid to Jenny? He hoped not. Manslaughter was a serious crime.

  “No, we’re done here. Right, Bobby?”

  Bobby cleared his throat, gave Billy’s shoulder a halfhearted slug and straightened out what was left of his shirt. “We’re all good. Just messing around, kiddo. Brothers are like that.”

  Seth gave Bobby a look. “Yeah, whatever, mister.” Then he turned his attention back to Billy. “Are we still going to weld?” He held up his booted foot to display his preparation.

  “I’ll leave you two to it.” Bobby headed for the door at a respectable clip.

  “Hey!” Billy yelled after him. He’d long since learned that if he didn’t get a hard promise out of Bobby, the guy took it as a victory.

  Bobby stopped, hand on the door. Then he turned back. “Fine. You won’t do it.”

  Billy doubted that was the final word, though.