Evelyn Hartwood—early fifties, blonde hair set in glossy waves, sharp and assessing, red lips curved into a smile that could cut glass. Pearls at her throat caught the light above the neckline of her camel wool coat.
The woman was a force of nature wrapped in cashmere and good intentions.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Evelyn's voice rang out, amplified by the microphone she wielded with authority. "Welcome to Lovesbury's first ever Valentine's Bachelor Auction!"
Applause and whistles erupted.
Evelyn's smile widened. She thrived on chaos. "Now, before we begin, let me remind everyone why we're here tonight. All—and I meanall—proceeds from this auction go directly to our veterans' center. These men have generously donated their time for one weekend with the lucky winner, and every dollar you bid helps us reach our goal of raising funds for much-needed repairs."
More applause. I clapped mechanically, though the cause was good—it mattered.
"Our bachelors will be introduced one at a time," Evelyn continued. "Bidding starts at fifty dollars and goes up from there. When you're ready to bid, just raise your hand and call out your amount. I'll keep things moving." She winked at the audience. "And ladies—and gentlemen—don't be shy. These men are worth every penny."
What if someone outbid me? I'd planned this revenge for months, and it could all crumble because someone had deeper pockets.
No. I wouldn't let that happen.
"All right, then!" Evelyn gestured toward the side of the stage. "Let's bring out our first bachelor!"
A man stepped into the spotlight, tall with dark hair and a military build that suggested he could carry you and your groceries up three flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. He looked uncomfortable, his jaw tight as he stood under the lights. A name tag on his chest read:Bachelor #1.
"This is Bachelor Number One," Evelyn announced, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. "You might remember him as 'The Mountain Man' from our calendar. Who wants to start the bidding at fifty dollars?"
"Take it off!" someone shouted from the back, and laughter rippled through the crowd.
"Fifty!" someone else called out.
"Seventy-five!" came another voice.
I glanced around and spotted Stacie, Ruthie, and Frankie in the front row—Lovesbury's self-appointed matchmaking brigade. All three held thermoses they kept sipping from with satisfied grins. Stacie, with her bright pink wig and leopard-print coat, raised her hand with theatrical flair.
"One hundred!" she called out, her voice gleeful.
"Stacie, you can't afford another ex-husband!" Ruthie hissed, loud enough for half the audience to hear.
"I'm not marrying him, I'mrentinghim for the weekend!"
Laughter burst through the space. Even the man on stage cracked the tiniest smile.
The bidding climbed fast. One-fifty. Two hundred. Two-fifty. A curvy brunette a few rows ahead of me kept raising her hand, her expression determined. She had green eyes and an easy smile, and when she bid three hundred dollars, the man on stage actually looked at her, truly seeing her for the firsttime. Something shifted in his expression—surprise, maybe, or interest.
"Three hundred going once... twice..." Evelyn paused dramatically. "Sold! Bachelor Number One goes to Nova for three hundred dollars!"
The audience burst into applause and cheers, Stacie and her friends cackling with delight. The brunette—Nova—appeared equal parts thrilled and mortified as the man walked off stage and made his way toward her. Their gazes met, and something passed between them. A recognition. A spark.
At least someone's happy, I thought bitterly.
Another man was introduced and quickly auctioned. I barely registered his face. Each moment brought me closer to Gil.
"And now," Evelyn said, her voice dropping into sultry warmth, "let me introduce our next bachelor."
The stage lights brightened, and my breath stopped before he even appeared.
And then Gil Pruitt walked out.
The noise around me seemed to dim.
I'd seen him before. Of course I had. Months of parking my food truck near The Pinnacle's main entrance, watching him from a distance, moving across the resort grounds like he owned the world. I'd seen him drive past in his pristine pickup, seen him through the main lodge windows, tall and commanding and completely untouchable.
