Close to Heart (21 page)

I hope.

“Okay, I’ll come. But can we keep this between us, please?” She’d rather have the element of surprise on her side.

Bailey threw the payment for the food on the counter and laughed, scrunching up her face. “Hell no! I’m telling everyone I know. The more people who want to see you, the more people will buy tickets, and that makes more for Jessie. It’s all for a good cause. I’ll send two tickets back over here with Steve.” She hurried out the door and ran toward the auditorium across the street from the diner.

“Well,” Franklin began as he slid back into the booth, “that’s one way to announce your return.”

“You’re coming with me tonight.” She didn’t give him the option. There was no way she was walking into the lion’s den alone, even if she was doing it willingly.

He surprised her with a laugh. “Aly, are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

J
USTIN STARED INTO
the full-length mirror Jessie had moved to the backstage dressing area for the men. Chase was adjusting a cowboy hat over his short hair and peering over Justin’s shoulder. “Looking good, Hart.”

“Shut up, Chase. This monkey suit looks ridiculous.” Justin didn’t mind the black jeans and boots, but the tux jacket paired with a sparkling bow tie and cummerbund was too much. He tipped his black Stetson down farther over his face, praying no one recognized him.

It was a moot point anyway since Jessie was going to announce his name. Maybe the building would burn down first. He cursed Craig and his food poisoning again and wished it had been him instead.

Dylan poked his head behind the stage where several men laughed and joked, teasing one another about who would bring the highest bids. “Showtime, guys.”

“Tell me again why I’m doing this instead of you or Nathan.”

“Well, for one, women tend not to bid on married men. Not to mention your sisters would skin any woman who did alive.” Justin couldn’t argue that fact.

“Just be sure to line up in the order we gave you. Chris, you’re here. Justin, you’re behind him and you’ll go right before Chase. Slim, you’re after him. Let’s go earn some money for Heart Fire Ranch, boys.”

Justin heard his sister’s voice as she welcomed the crowd, thanking them for attending and giving some background on the ranch. She followed up with several success stories, both with rescued horses and the teens she rehabilitated there over the summer. Listening to how much of a difference the ranch made in otherwise bleak lives, he felt guilty for his irritation. What was he worried about? Dinner and a little dancing with one of the women from town? Worst-case scenario, it was one of his ex-girlfriends intent on making him suffer for a breakup. His sister was saving the lives of abused horses and helping save kids from jail, gangs, and, in some cases, death, by showing them a different path.

Cowboy up and stop being such a baby
, he scolded himself.

“Are you ready for the auction?” He heard women cheer, a few let out some catcalls, and he cringed.

He leaned to one side, trying to catch a glimpse of the women he heard, but the spotlight blinded him, making it impossible to see past the tables in the front row. It sounded like a packed room, and as the first bachelor stepped on stage, he heard the DJ his sister had hired playing John Michael Montgomery’s “Sold” as the auctioneer began calling out the bidding.

Within a few minutes he heard a shout of “Sold” and the next man stepped onto the stage. He felt his stomach churn and wished he’d taken the shot Nathan had suggested. The burger he’d had for lunch sat in his stomach like a boulder as the line of men in front of him grew shorter. Dylan stood at the curtain with Roscoe, his service dog, seated quietly beside him as Justin finally reached the front of the line.

“You ready?”

“No.”

Dylan laughed. “You’ll do fine. These ladies are being pretty free with their checkbooks, so smile. At least earn your sister a little bit of money. No one wants to bid on that frown.” Justin glared at his brother-in-law. “That face won’t bring anything. See how Chris is working the crowd? Do that.”

Justin heard the auctioneer yell “Sold” once again and felt Dylan’s hand on his shoulder. “Break a leg.”

He glanced back at his brother-in-law as he was shoved onto the stage, the lights blinding him to anything but his sister smiling at him from the opposite side where she stood by the auctioneer and read the bio she’d written for him.

“Ladies, you don’t want to miss your chance at this one. Justin is a one-of-a-kind who loves kids and animals and has a huge . . . heart.” There were whoops and whistles as Jessie laughed at his obvious discomfort. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the heat rising under his collar. “Settle down, ladies. He can be a bit surly. I should know since he’s my brother, but he’s a loyal cowboy who knows how to treat a lady right. Who’s ready to start the bidding at two hundred dollars for Justin?”

Immediately a woman in the front row took up the bidding. He heard another woman from his right up the bid to three hundred while a third shouted from the back that she would pay three fifty. Justin moved across the stage, trying to figure out how to pose but certain he looked as uncomfortable as he felt. He heard the woman in the front call out a bid of four hundred and was positive it was his ex, Kristen, who had tried several times to ask him out over the past two months. He glanced over at Jessie again and she gave him a thumbs-up.

“I have four hundred, do I hear five? Four hundred, do I hear five? Going once . . . ”

Please, don’t let that be Kristen
, he prayed.

“Going twice,” the auctioneer called, pausing afterward.

“Five thousand dollars.”

Justin squinted toward the back of the room where the bid had come from, but the lights were too bright to make out anyone. He glanced at Jessie, who held her hand up to block the lights.

“Whooo!” the auctioneer cheered as the crowd hushed to quiet murmurs of surprise. “Was that five thousand? Ladies, does anyone want to go higher than that?” The auctioneer searched the crowd, which had now gone silent, twisting in their seats to discover the identity of the new high bidder. “Sold for five thousand dollars to . . . ” He looked to Jessie, who shrugged. “Your name, ma’am?”

“Alyssa Stone.”

H
E MIGHT NOT
be able to see her, but Alyssa had seen his reaction clearly. Justin was pissed.

He wasn’t just angry as he made his way off the stage, he was furious. She glanced back at Franklin, who sat at a table in the back with Sam. She’d tried to convince herself that she shouldn’t come, that she should stay home with her son, that it was too soon and would cause too much trouble, but in the end, Franklin had reminded her that this was why she had returned to town—to explain herself to Justin, to try to regain what had slipped away because of Elijah’s meddling.

She smoothed the red-lace sheath dress over the front of her, grateful that she’d been able to regain enough of her shape to wear the form-fitted garment. She tugged at the hip area. She might fit into it, but it didn’t fit the same. The lithe, willowy frame she’d always had was now far curvier thanks in part to her pregnancy and, now, nursing. Although she couldn’t deny having spent a few evenings with sappy movies, tears, and cartons of Häagen-Dazs ice cream, missing Justin.

Seeing him on the stage, dressed to kill, had made her heart thump painfully against her ribs. She’d barely been able to speak, but when she saw the leggy blonde with the confident smirk in the front row about to win him, her voice had returned. There was no way in hell she was letting Justin get away again. Not until she had a chance to tell him what she should have months ago.

She saw the deputy sheriff who’d arrested Elijah step onto the stage and move aside, waiting for Justin to exit as the bachelors before him had done. She pressed her lips together, nervously, and glanced back when she heard Bailey bidding on Chase.

Come on, Justin. Let me explain.

Bailey made her way to Alyssa’s side. The bidding on Chase came to a close and he came off the stage, laughing when the woman who’d bid on Justin ended up winning him.

“Better luck next time, Bailey,” he teased, winking at her.

“Please,” she shot back. “I was just trying to get things started since no one was bidding.” Alyssa saw his frown as he brushed past them. Bailey ignored him and turned to her. “I’m going to go find Justin.” She hurried up the stairs and disappeared behind the stage.

“W
HAT THE HELL
is your problem?”

“I’m not going out there.” Justin knew most of the people in the auditorium might not recognize the name Alyssa Stone, but he did.

Lyssa had returned. He hadn’t forgotten her maiden name, or her child who bore his.

“I see. So, do you want to tell Jessie to give the five thousand back because you’re too chickenshit to sit down and have dinner with Alyssa?”

He should have known that Bailey would know who she was. And he should have known she’d throw a guilt trip in there as well. Five thousand dollars was more than almost all of the men combined had earned. It would buy enough hay to last his sister a good portion of the year. It was too much money for him to cast aside because of his pride. Or his fear.

He clenched his jaw and brushed past Bailey, trying not to notice the cocky smirk she shot him as she followed him to the stairs where Lyssa waited, looking up expectantly.

Damn.

His eyes skimmed over her and he knew he was unable to hide the desire throbbing through him. She was even more beautiful now than the last time he’d seen her. She’d regained her figure in the past two months, and her dress left little to the imagination. The plunging neckline showed off her ample breasts and tapered in at her tiny waist. The dress hit her midthigh, showing off far more of her perfect legs than he wanted to see right now. He squeezed his hands into fists to keep from pulling her toward him, running his hands over the curve of her hips and around her rear. The scarlet dress was a statement, a bold declaration, and suited the moment.

“Why, hello, Hester. Is this the twenty-first century answer to a scarlet letter?”

Pain flickered in her green eyes. “If so, then shouldn’t you also be wearing one?”

“Touché.” He tipped his head toward her in deference. “Do you have a table already or should we just leave and face the mob of reporters I’m sure are waiting for us outside?”

He wasn’t sure why he was being such a dick. He’d been dying to see her, to hold her again, but it seemed as if the pain that had been festering was laid bare before her. He hated feeling vulnerable and blindsided. She’d managed to do both.

“There’s no one outside, Justin.” The sweetness of her voice almost did him in—almost. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“You paid an awful lot of money to
talk
. But, then again, when you have all that you do, what’s five thousand here or there?”

She shook her head, making her hair fall around her shoulders like silk, reflecting off the dim lighting in the room. He wanted to run his fingers through it, to bury his hands into it and pull her into his embrace, to pretend the past hadn’t happened, that this was their first meeting. But he’d lived the fantasy once and it only ended up causing pain.

“You think you know what happened.” She pinched her lips together and turned, heading toward the back of the room.

“I suppose you plan to enlighten me?”

She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. “I could, but I don’t think you’d believe me.” She spun toward him, making him stop short as her hand came to rest on his chest, sending heat traveling throughout his body. Even with heels on, she still had to look up to him. She seemed so thin he could crush her if he held her too tight. “I thought if you saw me again, talked to me, that you’d remember how you trusted me once.”

“And we all saw how that worked out for me.”

She dropped her hand as if it burned, sorrow filling her eyes as she turned away from him again. “I can see that’s not going to happen. So, instead, why don’t we have a nice dinner, just the four of us?”

“Four?” Justin looked beyond her to see Franklin standing, holding Sam. Justin looked back at her. “You and Franklin are . . . what? Do you want my congratulations?”

Franklin laughed, waking the sleeping baby. “You are the densest redneck I’ve ever known. That was the reaction I came to see,” he said, looking at Lyssa. “Here.” He slid Sam into Justin’s arms, forcing him to take the baby or drop him. “I’m going to mingle a bit before I head back to the house. You kids have fun tonight.” He looked back at Justin and shook his head, trying to contain his laughter. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just keep your mouth shut and listen for a change.”

Justin was too busy trying to adjust the wiggling baby in his arms into a secure position to verbally spar with Franklin. He looked down into the chubby face, lit with glee, as Sam smiled up at him. His wide, toothless grin was infectious.

“Sit, Justin, before you drop him.” A soft smile lit her face, belying the scolding note in her voice. “I see you remember Sam.”

“He’s gotten a lot bigger.” He felt the cement encasing his heart crack as he stared at Sam’s bright blue eyes and his bald head.

“Babies tend to do that.” She sat in the chair beside him instead of across from him, running her hand over her son. “He’s been one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

Justin looked up at her, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were soft with yearning and he knew she meant far more than she was actually saying aloud. She broke the connection first, looking down at her hands as if unsure what to say next.

“You sort of disappeared after you left here. All the coverage just stopped.” He cursed his loose lips, realizing he’d just confessed that he’d been watching for news of her.

She twisted her hands nervously in her lap. “It was pretty clear Elijah and I could destroy one another, but we agreed to keep all the details of our divorce out of the media.”

“Then, you decided to go through with it?” Justin looked back at Sam as he batted a hand against Justin’s chest softly. He reached a finger toward the child and watched as he gripped it.

Lyssa watched him play with her son. “There was never a question of
not
going through with it once I made the decision. I didn’t make it lightly. I realized when I was here with you it would have only gotten worse over time. Things with Elijah were escalating. I couldn’t put Sam through that.”

“You left because of Sam.” It wasn’t a question, although he was seeking clarity.

“No, I left because I finally realized I deserved better. He changed me. I became someone I didn’t recognize. You reminded me of who I’d been, who I still was, but I’d been hiding. I wanted to be that woman again. You showed me I could be.”

She dipped her head and, even in the dim light, he saw the blush color her cheeks. He wanted to hold on to his anger, to cling to his distrust. It was safer. As long as he was angry, he didn’t feel the hollowness of his chest where his heart once resided, before her betrayal had reached in and ripped it out.