by Kadie Scott
Ouch. And a damn good question. Maybe it was time to do something about that.
Jennings lifted an eyebrow, refusing to let the questions rile him. “I haven’t. I wasn’t exactly saving myself or pining all alone all this time, you know.” He glanced over Will’s shoulder to catch Ashley’s gaze directed his way again.
He winked, and she yanked hers away. Was that a blush? Probably not. Just red cheeks from the cold.
“No, but you never got serious about any of those girls, either.” Will pulled Jennings’s attention back.
He had no intention of discussing this in the middle of the crowd. Time to shut things down. Jennings held up his arm next to Will’s face and pretended to inspect the difference.
Will swiped at his hand. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to see if the pot and the kettle are the same color black.”
“What does that mean?”
Tossing his arm over Will’s shoulders, Jennings lowered his voice. “It means, big brother, that if you’re going to deliver home truths, you could use a few as well. You married Rusty after a few days together and you were already head over heels, but didn’t tell her at the time. Am I right?”
Will narrowed his eyes. “What does that matter?”
“Did I once bother you about telling her how you felt before the two of you finally figured it out on your own? If I’d stepped in, maybe you would’ve only moped around the ranch like a lost mongrel for a few weeks, instead of months.”
His brother glowered, face as dark as a thundercloud, only to pause at Jennings’s twitching lips. The brothers stared each other down for a long a second before they both broke out in grins.
Will held up his hands. “Okay, I get the point.” He turned his attention back to the stage. “Are you going to finally make a move on the woman?”
Jennings shook his head. Why was Will so adamant about this anyway? “I thought you said you got the point?”
“Sure. But I didn’t say I’d leave it alone.”
He jumped back as Jennings’s fist lashed out in a brotherly jab to the ribs.
Will laughed as he backed away. “Why not learn from my mistakes? Get off your ass and do something about Ashley. Like you should have done any time in the last ten years.”
“She was taken.” And she was the one who’d stopped bothering with our friendship before I did.
Ashley’s loyalty to Eric always seemed more about familiarity—she shared a comfort level with him and, therefore, didn’t bother asking herself if she missed out on spectacular by staying in a so-so relationship.
Will glanced over at the stage. “She’s not taken now.”
Might as well be as far as Jennings’s chances were concerned. Except any time he kissed her, she kissed him back.
Maybe I should do something about that? The question kept bugging him, but he didn’t have any answers.
Jennings didn’t have to wait long as Ashley was the first lady up for grabs. Her date included dinner at Jambalayas, his favorite Cajun food place, dessert at the Ice Cream Bucket, and flowers for her from the Flower Pot.
As a promotional event for the town, various shops and restaurants donated their services or goods to create a date package for each lucky lady up for bid. All dates were supposed to be taken that night, under the watchful gazes of the entire town, to avoid potentially bad situations, in case the date didn’t go so well or the guy wasn’t that altruistic in his intentions.
No awkwardness there. The entire town watching a first date. Yet another reason Jennings had avoided this auction over the years.
Ashley stood on stage, head held high, bright smile pinned in place—that pride of hers again—hiding her nerves from everyone but him. Mrs. Hughes gave the usual spiel about the date followed by Ashley’s biography. Then she opened the bidding.
Several guys he recognized put their offers in, but when Mason Bastion shouted out a bid, Jennings scowled. So did Ashley. Her expression morphed from faked pleasantness to irritation to subtle horror as Mason continued to raise the stakes until each of the other five or six contenders dropped out.
Aw, hell. I’m going to have to bail her out. Again.
“Two hundred dollars.” He doubled Mason’s last bid before consciously making the decision to do so.
Several heads whipped in his direction as an audible gasp ran through the crowd. On one side of the stage, Taylor’s grin could’ve lit up New York City. Eric’s reaction wasn’t quite as delighted as he gave Jennings a curious stare from across the crowd.
“’Atta boy,” Will murmured beside him.
Meanwhile, Ashley searched him out, her expression a comical combination of relief and exasperation. Jennings cocked his head both in challenge and question. He could walk away if she really didn’t want his help. But a vulnerability evident in how stiffly she held herself caught him like a low blow. He couldn’t let Mason have her.
Returning his focus to his bidding adversary, Jennings peered at Mason with a cocky half-smile, waiting for the bid he knew wouldn’t come. For his part, Mason glared at him with narrowed eyes, spit on the ground, and walked away.
“Highest bid goes to Jennings Hill,” Linda Hughes announced with obvious glee. “Come claim your prize, Jennings.”
Jennings limited himself to a triumphant wave. If her giant grin was any measure, Mrs. Hughes, at least, appeared thrilled. Mother cast daughter a look he couldn’t interpret, and Ashley shook her head.
Wonder what that’s about?
“Go get her,” Will murmured beside him, giving him a none-too-gentle shove.
Jennings shot him a glare, then shouldered his way through the crowd and met Ashley at the stage. He held out a hand. After the slightest hesitation, she placed her gloved fingers in his and climbed down.
“You look gorgeous, Hughes. I meant to tell you earlier before you ran off. Although I think I’ve always liked you best in purple. It does amazing things to your eyes.”
Ashley paused with her foot halfway to the next stair, then gave an inelegant snort of utter disbelief.
“What are you doing?” She gritted the words through clenched teeth as she a forced smile for anyone bothering to watch, which was probably half the town given the rumors about them from last night already flying around, not to mention that kiss at the booths.
“Saving your ass. Again.” He deliberately angled to inspect her backside. “Though it’s an adorable tush. Worth rescuing, I’d say.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he grabbed her hand and tugged her the rest of the way down the stairs and along behind him. “Hold on a second, Hughes. I have to pay for our date.”
“It’s not a real date, Hill.”
He stopped and held a finger to her lips, like he had earlier. “Shhh. Let’s not argue on our first date.”
She glared at him, but beneath his fingers the twitch of her lips tickled as if she tried not to laugh. She’d always been too serious. When they were kids, he’d made it a personal goal to bring levity into her life. Granted, most of the time she got angry rather than laughed. After their friendship faltered, she’d only ever got angry. But sometimes, like right now, he caught a secret smirk and knew he’d succeeded.
Damn that felt good.
He paid at a table set off to the side of the stage while Mrs. Hughes introduced the next lady up for auction. As they dealt with the payment, Eric and Taylor appeared.
“How generous of you, Jennings,” Taylor enthused.
“Very,” Eric murmured with a speculative light in his eyes.
Jennings signed the receipt. Mrs. Carson, who was working the checkout, handed him a bouquet of roses, which he presented to Ashley with a flourish and a laughing grin. Ashley’s mom must’ve picked them out, because they were perfect for her.
She accepted, albeit reluctantly, but her face softened as she gazed on the crimson blooms. “I love roses,” she murmured, flashing a quick smile of thanks to Mrs. Carson, who beamed.
“I know. Sha
ll we go?” He offered his arm.
Slowly, with obvious reluctance, she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow.
“Have fun, you two,” Taylor said.
“Hill,” Eric’s voice stopped them.
Jennings looked him dead in the eye, his eyebrows raised in question.
Eric nodded to Ashley. “She’s still family. Take good care of her.”
Taylor snuggled into her fiancé, seeming to appreciate the comment, but Ashley’s grip on his arm tightened. Why? Was she afraid Jennings might be bothered? Or embarrass her? Or maybe she didn’t like Eric saying that. Was she still in love with her ex? She used to gaze at Eric like he was a glowing god deigning to shower his affection upon her, but today she hadn’t done that. Though, given her determination to show no human weakness ever, not to mention her sister standing right there engaged to the guy, she might just be hiding it.
Either way, the gesture Eric made was a decent one, and Jennings would address it as such. “I will,” Jennings assured the other man, offering a hand to shake.
Eric took it with a firm grip and a nod only two men could understand.
Ashley cast Jennings a searching glance as she took his arm and they walked around the square to their destination. Evening had come, long shadows turning to night as dusk fell, and the festive lights adorning all the buildings around the square cast a heavenly glow over them. They skirted the carolers, who sang “Silent Night” in poignant harmony, then crossed the street, wending their way through the booths and crowds to the restaurant. He held the door open for her and she paused to pat his cheek.
“You know, Hill, every once in a while, you shock me and actually act like a decent human being.”
Ouch. “We have to do something about all this antagonism you have toward me, Hughes.”
She choked, then laughed. “What do you suggest?”
He shrugged. “They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. Maybe you should just sleep with me and get it out of your system.”
The words popped out—Will’s suggestion from earlier still top of mind—before he considered the ramifications.
Ashley jerked to a halt, mouth open, and eyes wide. She gave a little squeak, as if her voice wasn’t working properly.
He’d meant it as a joke, but the mental image of Ashley in his bed was suddenly no laughing matter. He grew uncomfortably hard at the mere thought. The hostess chose that instant to return to her station, and Ashley managed to close her mouth around whatever she was going to say in return. The hostess led them to a romantic table for two in a private corner of the restaurant, lit with candles and set with fine linens. The fanciest digs in the county.
As soon as they ordered, Ashley leveled a direct look on him. “I’m not sleeping with you, Hill.”
“I didn’t bid on you with sex in mind. I was teasing you about that.” Sort of.
“Then what on earth were you thinking?”
He angled his head. “About what?”
“Bidding for my date. What else would I be asking?”
He took a sip of water and shrugged. “You could have been asking what I was thinking about how you look in candlelight. Beautiful, by the way.”
She did too. The soft light picked up the red highlights in her long hair and flickered in her mercury-colored eyes. He could get lost in her eyes…or drown like a sailor in a stormy sea.
Ashley ignored him. “Bidding on my date was a foolish thing to do.”
“I thought you’d be grateful. I’ve saved you from Mason Bastion twice in one weekend now.” Irritation settled in his gut. Why was she making such a big thing of this?
She narrowed her eyes. “My mother asked me if we had safe sex last night.”
Oh. That was why. Jennings sat back in his seat and managed to keep a straight face. He didn’t think Ashley would appreciate laughter in the face of what she apparently viewed with mortification. “What did you say?”
“That we didn’t sleep together, of course.”
“Then what’s the problem? Can’t get any safer than that, right?”
Narrowed eyes greeted his comment. “She didn’t believe me.”
Jennings picked up his napkin and laid it in his lap. “Would you like me to talk to her?”
“No!” As several heads turned to stare their direction, she cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “No, thank you. I can handle my mother. However, after last night, and then being seen kissing at the booths, your bidding on me doesn’t help the rumors apparently stampeding through this town. Are you trying to mess with me? Is that it? I’m already having a crappy holiday, so you really don’t have to bother.”
All thoughts of laughter fled. “Is it really that rough?” Because of her feelings for Eric? When would she get over the guy?
She let out a long sigh, glancing away. “Not for the reason you’re obviously thinking. You know this town. All I’ve gotten since I got home are speculative stares and whispered comments behind my back.”
“About you and Eric?”
She fiddled with the salt shaker on the table. “I don’t like being talked about, and you’re only adding to it.”
Jennings sat forward and covered her hand with his. “What if I bid on you because I wanted to?”
She raised her gaze from his touch with wide eyes now swirling with confusion.
“Do you ever think about that kiss on New Year’s Eve?” He tossed the question down between them like pulling the chute for a bull ride and waited for her response.
If he were honest, he’d thought of that kiss often. He woke at night aching with need and wondering how she was doing in Dallas. If she missed home. If she was in some other man’s bed. Had she thought of him?
She searched his face and Jennings waited for her answer. An expression he had a hard time interpreting—defeat maybe, or sadness, or wariness—crossed her features before she snuffed it out and pulled her hand out from beneath his, a chasm opening up between them that would need the Golden Gate Bridge to cross. He wanted to pull her back, even as she slipped from his grasp.
“If you’re trying to be funny,” she said in a resigned voice, “I’m not laughing.”
He sat back. “No, I guess not. I used to make you laugh. Did you lose your sense of humor along with your boyfriend?”
Jennings wanted to bite back the words as soon as they were out and he waited for the slap to the face that he’d earned with that one. Except what he got was worse. Disappointment.
“Forget I said that,” he urged.
She stared back for a long moment until, suddenly, a smile tugged at those lush lips.
One he didn’t trust. “What?”
“I’ll make you a deal.”
A thousand childhood memories flooded him. She used to say that all the time, but the deals somehow always worked more in her favor. The woman had serious brains. “What kind of deal?” he asked slowly.
“I’ll help you with your accounting issue…”
“You already promised—”
Another Cheshire smile stopped him mid-sentence. “I’m here for a wedding and Christmas. My schedule is awfully tight.”
Jennings gritted his teeth against a memory he’d tried hard to forget over the years.
Shortly after starting things with Eric, she’d promised to tutor Jennings for a math test. He’d been failing Algebra II and asked for her help. They’d set a date and time, only she never showed. He’d had to repeat Algebra II that summer. To rub salt in the wound, she’d never apologized or acknowledged she’d forgotten, and he’d discovered soon after that she and Eric had gone to Austin for a concert.
That was when he’d learned exactly where his friendship with her rated in Ashley’s life. Even now, the sting of that realization lingered. And he’d been in high school dammit. He should be over this by now. Over her. So why was he here again? Letting himself in for disappointment?
Maybe it was time to take the reins and do something about it, either finally convince
her to give them a shot or…
Jennings took a sip of wine, doing his best not to snap the fragile stem of the glass and wishing for a beer instead. “Fine. You’ll help me if what?”
She laced her fingers together. “If you stop making comments like that one.”
“Okay.”
She raised her eyebrows, not finished. “And…you pretend to be my boyfriend until I go back to Dallas after Christmas.”
Chapter Seven
Ashley rubbed at her eyes as she blearily made her way downstairs. She wouldn’t have gotten up, but the sound of the household stirring had woken her, and then she couldn’t just lay there like a lazy dog in the sun. It’d just been a long time since she’d had to be up this early.
“Hi, sweetie,” her mom said when she appeared in the doorway. “We didn’t wake you, I hope?”
“No.” She dropped into a seat beside Taylor, the same seat she’d had since childhood, and helped herself to scrambled eggs and pancakes.
Ashley had a nice fluffy, buttered bite halfway to her lips when Taylor turned to Eric. “Don’t forget we have our—”
“Dance lesson tonight?” he finished for her. “I remember.”
Ashley paused, fork in the air, and stared at both of them like they’d just spoken in a foreign language. “A what?” Maybe she’d heard wrong.
Taylor turned to her with a grin. “We’re choreographing our first dance for the wedding.”
No freaking way. She pinned Eric with a questioning look that she hoped came off amused. “You’re taking dance lessons.”
“Yeah.” Like it was no big deal. But she noticed he didn’t look up from his breakfast which he was now scooting around on his plate.
“You,” Ashley pushed.
In college, she’d wanted to take lessons with the Aggie Wranglers, Texas A&M’s country western dance team, and had asked him a bazillion times, but he hadn’t wanted to. But Taylor had him agreeing this fast? What is it about me that made him not want to do something for me?
Taylor sniggered. “I know, right? He really didn’t want to, but I sort of—”
“Moped and pleaded and waltzed around in front of the TV when I was watching football and discussed it at dinner and drove me crazy until I said yes?” Eric grinned.
