The downfall of having built my own house—there wasn’t anything to do but watch HGTV. No projects, nothing to maintain. I’d built a top-of-the-line, luxurious home. Working with my hands and building shit was all I knew how to do. I’d even trolled a few rummage sales and thrift stores, looking for furniture to flip.
Then what? Have the most junkyard-chic house to show all of no one?
Nah. I’d rather get laid instead of sitting at home, watching my superhero movie marathons. Which were happening more and more often lately… Last weekend, I’d even abandoned my efforts to find a willing partner and gone home for a Thor marathon.
I’d had a headache. That was it. It’d been low-grade, hadn’t even needed a Tylenol, but, well, I was the boss. I didn’t get sick days. If I didn’t bring money in, no one else would get paid.
The woman talking to Mara guffawed, her head thrown back, ponytails swinging, the sound infectious. A joyous laugh that almost made me smile for no reason.
I jutted my chin toward the women. “Is it okay to interrupt? Mara wanted my picture with some merchandise for the auction flyer.”
“They’re waiting for you. Tilly wanted to be here when we took the photos. It means a lot to her that people are willing to do the auction.”
“That’s the abused adult center lady?”
Wes gave me a droll look. “Tilly Johnson is a teacher, but yes, she and Mara are raising funds for the abused adult resource center. For the kids there, more specifically. The money will go towards clothing and school supplies, even basic medical care.”
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my slacks and adjusted my shoulders to loosen the tightness in my chest. A woman who gave a shit about kids. Of course, people cared about kids, but I couldn’t help but admire those who went out of their way to help them.
I mentally shook down the rise of unwanted memories. This Tilly Johnson was a better person than me, but that didn’t mean I had to let the same old feelings haunt me. I had the best of both worlds—helping an organization that helped disadvantaged kids but without people wondering why I was doing it. I usually stuck to sponsorships of sports teams so I could plaster my company’s name, Halstengard Industries, everywhere. I would straight-up donate, but with the amounts I gave, charities sometimes tracked me down, and the last thing I wanted to do was explain why I supported their cause—or worse, have people investigate my personal life. But this was a bachelor auction. I was rich and single. There was no need to explain why I was helping.
“Come on. Mara set up a little corner for the photos.” Wes tucked the empty box under his arm, looking completely out of place in a suit like the one I was wearing, only Wes had taken his jacket and tie off. I couldn’t wait to shed my navy blue pinstriped suit. I hadn’t so much as loosened my tie yet.
I followed him to a bench surrounded by action figures and posters, the backdrop for a photo that would be handed out to prospective bidders on Friday night. “Why didn’t we do this earlier? Might’ve been good for promo.”
“Yeah. They put this thing together pretty quickly. Tilly works through the summer but had a little time between school letting out and…whatever work she’s doing for the next couple of months. We figured we’d give it a shot and if it’s successful, we can organize and promote a bigger event for next year. We only recruited five people to auction off. Best to keep it small in case it’s an epic fail.”
Instead of perching on the bench, I set one foot on it and leaned on my knee. Wes smirked but picked up the camera.
“Between you and me,” I said, “I got a cabin with two bedrooms just in case my highest bidder is…you know.”
Wes sighed, then chuckled. “Is that your new form of safe sex?”
I shrugged. “We’ll see. Who knows? Sometimes any sex is better than no sex, but I wanted an out just in case.”
“So sure the woman will be ready to jump you?”
“You don’t drop a few grand on this,” I swept my hands down the body I shaped with brutal workout sessions, “and not want some. But seriously, it’s a bachelor auction. I’d be naïve not to plan for either scenario.”
“No matter how it turns out, I appreciate you supporting Mara like this.”
I lifted my chin in a bro-nod. Better than getting choked up with emotion.
The auction fit my carefree persona and maybe I’d end up with a hot chick dying to spend a fun week at the lake with me. Then we could part ways with the built-in excuse that hey, the deal was just for a vacay. I’d never want a woman willing to buy me for charity to feel pressured into putting out.
“Flynn Halstengard?” a shrill female voice rang out. “Oh. My. God. It’s really you!”
I froze. The woman Mara had been talking to was charging toward me. My eyes went wide. Fuuuuck. I know her.
“Tulip?” I squeaked.
A look of alarm passed over her expression before her smile returned. “Um, no. It’s just Tilly now.”
Tilly Johnson was Crazy J from high school? How— What— Now her clothing made sense. Tulip had never had any fashion sense. The knee-high white socks, athletic shoes, and too-short jean shorts fit Tulip Johnson perfectly.
She’d moved away our senior year, and only then had I found peace after the three long years she’d dogged my footsteps, pining for me in her bat-shit crazy way.
I must’ve been gaping like a beached walleye because Mara’s gaze darted from me to Wes, finally settling on Wes to beg him to think of something. I couldn’t speak. I’d been teased mercilessly
