She looked up and though the stage lights were far too bright for her to see, he kept his gaze on her, taking in the silver and black gown that was modest in covering, yet fit her every curve. The look was perfection. His fingers itched trying to determine if the zipper was in back or along the side.
“Hey, isn’t that Sally Andersen?” Hank nudged Clay and followed his blatant stare. “Man, she is still as pretty as ever.”
“Yeah.” Clay polished off his beer and reached for the glass of wine the waiter had poured for dinner.
“Whoa, there, Romeo. You want to be able to navigate those steps,” Hank cautioned.
Clay heeded his advice, though the real question in Clay’s mind was how he was going to navigate that dress.
Chapter Seven
Sally thought she might go crazy. She’d been putting out so many fires this evening, she would surely qualify to be a smokejumper. Taking a deep breath, she took a sip of the deep, rich red wine they’d served with her now cold steak. The salad, gratefully, was wonderful and she cleaned it up quickly before something else could grab her attention. She’d managed to get Dusty and Ellie comfortable in their roles as emcees for the auction and had decided to sneak back to her seat for a quick bite before the auction started.
“Do you need to be backstage to help line up the bachelors?” Angelique asked. She and Dalton were seated at her table, along with Nate and Charlene, and a couple from Billings.
Sally shook her head after taking another swallow of wine, letting it calm her frazzled nerves. “Nope, Miss Ellie has it covered. Dusty’s got the cards for introductions.” She raised her glass. “Here’s hoping that everything pulls off without a hitch.” Her hand raised in toast, she noticed Clay skirting around the edge of the crowd of women beginning to amble to the chairs set in front of the stage. He looked handsome, amazing to be exact, with those broad straight shoulders and trim physique. She fought the reins of her galloping heart as she remembered what lay beneath that starched white shirt.
“I hope you’ve saved your pennies, girlfriend.”
Sally looked over her shoulder at the kind-looking elderly woman who’d stopped to speak to her.
“Why, Miss Eva, hello. I’m so glad you made it tonight. How are you?” Sally squeezed the woman’s hand. “You are a vision of loveliness.” She eyed the pale blue gown that nearly matched the woman’s clear blue eyes. Her head tilted as she spied the white Crocs.
“Sensible shoes tonight. Can’t do heels like I used to, but I still got a move or two inside me.” Her smile was sweet. She gave Sally a nudge. “I remember your dad when he came in to the Center for his physical therapy. He was a good man.” She nodded. “A real fine man.” She patted Sally’s shoulder. “But tonight…I have my sights set on one in particular.”
“Oh, who’s that?” Sally played along, shooting a winking glance to Angelique.
“That tall drink of handsome with shoulders like a Buick. If that isn’t military stock, I’ll eat my Crocs.”
Angelique caught Sally’s eye and smiled.
“You’d best be finding a good seat, young lady, if you plan on bidding. And seeing how you’re the head honcho of this gig, it seems only fitting that you’d participate.”
“She’s right, you know,” Angelique interjected.
Aside from the concerns about the event itself, Sally had been in a self-imposed battle all week, trying to decide if what she’d proposed to Clay was fair. What little she knew of him, and for the better, the more she realized he wasn’t the type that would easily give up his rights or responsibilities if he was a father. Perhaps deep down, she was afraid if she started this affair with him, would she be able to give the relationship up as easily when it came time to do so.
She spied Kaylee taking her seat in the front row. The woman was determined, it seemed, as were the over seventy-five women signed up for the event. A cold dread washed over her. What if someone else, besides Miss Eva, had her sights on Clay? She did have a contract ready. After the sexy episode in her front room in the middle of the night she’d had some seriously hot dreams that included Clay.
And she’d set aside a small amount she’d intended to donate to the cause anyway. Sally pushed from the table.
Angelique and Dalton applauded. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” Angelique said with a grin. Of course, no one except Clay knew what rode on her winning him for the evening. She found an empty chair at the end of a row, in case she lost her nerve. Miss Eva was seated beside her.
Caught up in the jubilant frenzy of bidding, she cheered on as each bachelor was awarded to the highest bidder. Tyler was beaming as walked off stage, and met Kaylee, who gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.
Clay was the last to appear on stage. He heart came to a standstill as the room grew quiet. He offered a tight smile and a quick wave to the crowd of women poised at his feet, paddles at the ready.
Sally scanned the still significant group of anxious women that would compete against her.
“Now, ladies, we all know you’re excited to know more about our next bachelor candidate.” Dusty patted Clay’s shoulders. “Welcome Clay to our annual Buckle Ball. Like the others, we’d like to ask you to tell us a bit about yourself.” He handed the microphone to Clay.
Clay nodded and calmly looked out over the crowd. “I’m fairly new to End of the Line. Born and raised in Texas.”
A ‘yee haw!’ went up from a woman in the crowd.
Clay smiled. “Other than that, I’m a pretty simple guy, I guess.”
Miss Ellie stepped up beside him, feigning a swoon as she used her hand to fan her face. “Okay, one question we’d like you to answer for us. What is your idea of a perfect date?” The answers from the other bachelors had been everything from candlelit dinners and a carriage ride to white-water rafting on a Colorado river.
Sally found herself pulled forward in her seat, waiting, wanting to know more about him, even though she knew it was dangerous to her heart to do so.
Clay cleared his throat. “You know, there was a time when I thought the way to a woman’s heart was to try to impress her with fancy restaurants and beautiful jewelry—”
“It doesn’t hurt,” a woman yelled out, and laughter followed.
Clay chuckled, and the deep rich sound of it brought gooseflesh to Sally’s bare arms.
“I guess my experience has taught me that a fireplace on a snowy evening, or standing in a barn talking away a rainy afternoon can mean as much to the right woman.”
“Oh, hell, yeah!” called out a female voice. “Start the bidding.”
Sally straightened in her seat, suddenly torn with guilt that her monogamous edict could well destroy what possible happiness Clay might find here tonight.
“Get your paddle ready, honey,” Miss Eva said.
She looked at the elderly woman. “I’m not really sure about this.”
Miss Eva’s blue eyes twinkled behind her thick lens. “I watched that young man all evening and you know what I saw?”
Sally shook her head.
“He was watching you,” she said, pointing her paddle at Sally.
“What if I’m not the right person for him?” Sally asked, glancing at the women around her. The sound of their excited whispers caused her to have doubt.
Miss Eva looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Sweetheart, it’s one night. It’s not like you’re going to have his baby.” The old lady smacked her lightly on the head. “Besides, I know men. That one there is a keeper.”
Sally felt sick.
“We’ll start the bidding at one hundred dollars,” Dusty’s voice called out across the room.
Miss Eva’s hand shot out into the air, immediately followed by three other avid bidders.
“We’ve got one-hundred thirty-five,” Dusty announced.
“One hundred fifty,” Sally found herself yelling out.
Miss Eva patted her leg and smiled.
“Two hundred,” another woman bid.
“Two hundre
d fifty,” came the next bid.
“Three hundred.”
Sally’s gaze shot to Nan of the sporting goods and repair store in town.
“Three-fifty,” Miss Eva countered with a pursing of her lips. “That woman has another thing coming if she thinks she can outbid me.”
It felt as though a cattle drive thundered in Sally’s chest.
“One thousand,” issued a firm, slow-speaking, female voice.
Sally searched the crowd of women and found a beautiful, statuesque woman standing with her paddle held high. She wore a skin-tight, red-sequined gown that glittered sin. Her pale blonde hair fell over her bronzed shoulders, one side swept up over one ear in a gemstone clip. Icy-looking diamonds dripped wealth from her earlobes. Sally doubted the woman owned a single pair of boots. She glanced at her plain strand of pearls.
“Oh, my.” Miss Eva glanced at Sally. “You may be on your own now, sweetheart.” She shrugged her boney shoulders.
Sally had no idea how high the woman was willing to bid, but she had to try—if not for underpaid grade school teachers everywhere. “One thousand-fifty.” She blinked at the very words that had come from her mouth.
The distinguished woman shot her a look.
Pride. Stupidity. She wasn’t really sure. Sally stood, tightening her grip on the paddle.
“That’s my girl,” she heard Miss Eva say quietly.
The room was deadly silent. Several women between lowered into their seats, avidly watching the spectacle.
“One thousand, one hundred.” The woman kept a steady gaze on Sally.
“One thousand, one hundred-fifty,” Sally answered.
“Throw down,” a male voice called out from behind. She didn’t have to look to know it was Dalton.
The beautiful woman appeared to mull over her next move. She glanced at Sally, then looked at Clay. “Two thousand.”
“Shit.” Miss Eva clamped her hand over her mouth and glanced up at Sally.
Dusty didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “Let’s remember that this is all going to a wonderful cause.”
Clay stood quietly, looking straight ahead in a military-style at-ease pose.
“We’ve got two thousand.” Dusty looked at Clay. “Do I hear two-thousand, one hundred?”
Sally raised her paddle.
“There’s two thousand, one hundred. Do I hear two-thousand, one hundred fifty?” Dusty took out a kerchief and dabbed his brow.
The woman in red raised her paddle. “Two thousand, one hundred-fifty.”
“I’ve got five hundred dollars, Sally” Eva said, touching Sally’s elbow. “It’s yours.”
Sally licked her lips. She looked at Clay and back at the woman, whose back was turned.
“The bid is two thousand, one-hundred fifty,” Dusty reminded the crowd.
She had only a few thousand left in her savings after paying for her renovations. She eyed the woman even as Dusty began the protocol to end the bidding.
“Going once—”
“Two thousand, five hundred,” Sally interrupted. She immediately looked down at Eva who nodded in return. Applause erupted behind her.
Miss Ellie grabbed the mic from Dusty. “Going once, twice, sold—for two thousand, five hundred.” She dropped the mic, and as it clattered to the stage, she hooked her arm through Clay’s and escorted him backstage.
Slightly flustered, Dusty picked up the mic. “Thanks to all the winners. We’ll take just a few minutes to set up the band and then we’ll start the dance.”
Sally was rushed by well-wishers and Miss Eva stood to hug her.
“I knew you’d win. I can see how you look at him.” She winked. “But if you don’t mind, since I have five hundred bucks invested, I’d like just one dance.”
“Absolutely.” Sally hugged the woman and turned to find Clay and Miss Ellie waiting behind her.
“The band is setting up. I better get back to my post.” Ellie came forward and hugged Sally. “Thank you for your generosity. I feel you got the best tonight,” she whispered then stepped back. “You two have fun.”
Clay was talking to Angelique and Aimee. Sally stepped up and brazenly hooked her arm through his. “Well, I guess the first order of business is a drink, and sorry, I’m not buying.” She smiled at her friends, but had yet to look at Clay.
Wyatt, Dalton and Hank joined them then after they’d helped move the chairs from the dance floor.
“Congratulations, young man.” Miss Eva tapped Clay’s chest with her paddle. “The best woman won.”
“And Clay will save you that dance, don’t forget.” Sally patted Clay’s arm.
“Dance?” Clay leaned downed to whisper in her ear.
She turned to look at him, meeting his dark gaze. Holy Moly. All the old fears, the guilt washed over her. She’d wanted to believe she could slide through this with the grace of a glacier, but global warming had nothing on her body heating when she was near him. To make matters worse, or better—depending on your view—she’d taken her temperature this morning as she’d been keeping a chart these past few months to track her peak ovulation. Her girl parts fairly screamed with joy as she held his gaze. How soundproof are the rooms backstage, flitted through her brain.
“Sally?” Clay asked, his brows knit with concern.
“Hum? Yes?”
“You’re doing that ‘checking-out’ thing again.”
“Oh, sorry. I promised Miss Eva you’d dance with her. Since she invested the last five hundred into my bid.”
Clay’s expression softened. “That’s a lot of money, Sally.” He turned his head so others couldn’t hear. “Let me help you with this.”
She glanced at him and, between being broke and her raging hormones, spoke the first thing on her mind. “Hopefully, you can.” She held his eyes for a moment, smiled and turned back to their friends.
***
“You really made Miss Eva’s night, you know,” Sally said as she carefully removed her pearl earrings and necklace and tucked them into a blue velvet box.
“She’s a sweet little lady.” Clay sat in the corner of her bedroom, slouched in a floral patterned reading chair that was two sizes too small. He’d loosened his tie, was itching to get out of the starched shirt, but didn’t want to appear too anxious. Truth? He was damn exhausted.
“Did anyone ask where you were going?” Sally glanced at him. He’d been engrossed in studying the three page, single-spaced contract she’d had drawn up, she’d told him, by a legal site online. No way in hell he planned on missing this chance. He stood and slipped off his jacket, stuffed the tie in the pocket and walked up behind her.
“Oh.” She shot him a quick glance, her beautiful cheeks blushed crimson.
“Let me do that.” He eased her hands to her sides and leaned forward to place a kiss on the corkscrew tendrils at the back of her neck. He’d thought about this more times than he cared to admit. Unfastening the clip, he threaded his fingers through her hair, fascinated in watching it tumble in rich, red waves over her bare shoulders. His fingers brushed her skin and he heard a soft gasp, felt her body stiffen. He moved closer, breathing in her scent, something floral, sexy and so like Sally. A mystery, a mustang—all woman. He wanted her out of that gown, and his hands moved over the front of her following every curve. “I’ve been trying to decide if the zipper is on the side or in the back.” Half aroused already, he realized she wore no bra beneath all this glitter.
“The side,” she purred, leaning back into him.
He spied the zipper, eased it down partway and slipped his hand inside covering her bare breast.
“Oh, okay,” she said, releasing a breathy sigh. “Before we go any further, there’s a couple of things we should talk about.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” He rolled her rosy nub between his fingers, eliciting the languid response he’d hoped for.
“N-not exactly.” She looked over her shoulder. “I need you to do something for me.”
He chuckled. �
�I thought that’s why I was here.”
She turned to face him then. “I meant about the contract.”
He eyed her. “I’ve read it, and agreed to everything, and signed it.”
Sally swallowed, visibly nervous about something. “Thank you. I think it’s best for both of us, don’t you?”
“Sally.” He leveled her a direct look, hoping to make her see she was killing the mood. “My knowledge is limited on some things, but I’m pretty certain no one has ever been conceived by lengthy discussions.”
She nodded. “I know, but what I have to say… might cause you to change your mind. And I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did. But I feel I need to be honest with you.”
Despite the cold water moment to his libido, he appreciated her desire to be transparent. “Okay, what is it?”
“I... I can’t quite pay you what I indicated in the contract—that is, unless you’re willing to take payments.”
“Sally,” he said, softening his voice, “money is the last thing on my mind, right now.”
She wrung her hands and then looked at him. “I just want you to understand. I used most of what I’d planned to give you on bidding for you.”
He ran his hands down her arms. “Then let’s consider it even. It’s what I’d planned to do with the money, anyway. Now,” he lowered his head, brushing his lips to hers with a teasing smile. “At some point, this night becomes less about talking”—he gently bit her lower lip— “and more about doing.”
“I haven’t done this in a while,” she said breathlessly. Her hands cupped his face, her mouth demanding, seductive… in short, driving him mad with need.
“Like riding a bike,” Clay whispered, brushing his mouth along her jaw. God, she smelled like heaven.
Her fingers tugged his shirt from the waistband.
“Hang on, sweetheart. This is a rental.” He stepped back, his gaze holding her appreciative, smoldering gaze. He removed his shirt and tugged his undershirt over his head.
“You look like a fantasy from a James Bond movie,” she said, reaching out tentatively to touch him, tracing the tattoo over his heart.
No Strings Attached (Last Hope Ranch Book 1) Page 12
