Page 4 of Singled Out

Dakota leaned closer. “I’m worried about him. He doesn’t have fun anymore. Doesn’t go out. Hasn’t dated since he took Danny in. I know becoming a single dad is a huge thing, but he’s not himself.”

“What do you think I could do about that?” I asked in disbelief.

“You’ll show him a good time,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Well, yes. I’d like to think so. How much of a good time do you want him to have?” Innuendo was heavy in my voice, and I couldn’t help grinning.

“As much of a good time as you want,” she said, “but if it’s too good, I don’t want to hear about it.”

I didn’t allow myself to think about too good of a time with Coach Dawson. I definitely didn’t need to tangle with him that much, but I was open to bidding on him. Maybe.

“You said it yourself. He’s going to get bids no matter what. Why do you want me to steal him away from some poor girl who’s probably pining away for him?”

“That’s just it. Half the women here”—she gestured to the room—“are pining away for him. They want to land him, ensnare him, marry him. That’s the last thing my struggling brother needs. You’ll get him out of the house for a night of fun, but you won’t want more than that.”

“Truth.”

“You’re the last person looking to settle down.”

“Also true.”

“So you’re perfect.”

I considered the idea. Showing up to the art foundation’s gala in Nashville with a former-NFL player would outshine being the mourning girl accepting an award in her dead friend’s stead.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” Mayor Constantine’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Welcome to the pinnacle of tonight’s event—the bachelor auction.”

The crowd responded noisily, telling me this was going to get lively.

“You all know the proceeds of the evening will go to a very important cause. This town hasn’t had a proper art department at the high school level since our own Berwin Jepp was the starting quarterback.”

Collective laughter rang out because Berwin was nearing sixty.

“He took the team to state his senior year,” the mayor continued, “but regardless, I think we can all agree that’s too long for our education system to be lacking in any way. We need art in our schools. Creativity is as vital as the ability to calculate what MC squared equals. So I’m asking you all to open your wallets as wide as you can. Get yourself a date with a Dragonfly Lake dreamboat.”

There was laughter again, though judging by the names and profiles listed on the town app, the Tattler, he wasn’t exaggerating about dreamboats. The guys they’d recruited to go on the auction block were some of the best-looking ones our town had to offer.

While the mayor explained how the auction would work, Dakota sought eye contact with me.

“Well?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I said noncommittally. I’d never been accused of being a planner. I’d do what I did with everything—I’d go with my gut.

First up was Elijah Watt. Dakota worked with him. He was good-looking but too young, barely of legal drinking age. Taking him to a black-tie event in the city…no.

Next up was Anton White. Midthirties. Decent looking. I wasn’t feeling him either.

Sergio Vega, age seventy-two and proud of it, was third. Our table exploded in cheers when Nancy timidly bid on him and won him for six hundred fifty dollars. One of the Diamonds, the card-playing mostly over-sixty ladies’ group, she was adorable. She even blushed when her victory was announced.

I watched, unmoved to bid, as Luke Durham, Pablo Benitez, and Gideon Webb, who graduated the same year as me, were offered up. Luke, a quiet, muscular farmer, got the highest bid yet at nineteen hundred.

Jake Bergman, whose family had owned the hardware store for longer than I’d been alive, was up next. Not gonna lie, he looked good, but I wasn’t sure he was black-tie material. Plus he was forty. It turned out it was just as well I wasn’t interested, as Darlene Lionetti, who was twenty years his senior at least, drove the bid up to nearly thirteen hundred to win him, much to the audience’s delight. Her fellow Diamonds hooted and hollered as if she’d made the score of a lifetime, and as the longtime Country Market clerk, maybe she had. I would’ve hated to rain on her parade.

A while later, I’d just finished my drink and was thinking about another one when Mayor Constantine introduced Max, the younger of the two Dawson brothers and, in my opinion, the better looking. Both were in the auction, and either would be a catch if you were looking for that sort of thing. I stayed put, gauging the room. Collective interest was tangible in the air.

There was no debating Dakota’s brother was delectable. With dark hair that was a little shaggy, an olive complexion, and a warm smile that took his face from handsome to enticing, he was celebrity-level hot. He had the lean, muscled body of a quarterback even though a lot of time had passed since he’d played pro football. He somehow oozed confidence and charm without crossing into egotistical. My eyes were locked on him.

Bidding had started at fifty dollars for most of the guys, but for Max, Mayor Constantine went straight to three hundred. Within thirty seconds, it was up to a grand, and I had yet to jump in. Isabel Ballantine, Rissa Raymond, and Lucy Whitmore were raising each other by fifty dollars at a time.

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