Page 35 of Mismatched Mates

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unexpected addition to our auction lineup tonight," I announced, and as his eyes found mine, a flicker of something I couldn't quite name passed between us. "Grant Elston has generously offered himself as a date to the highest bidder."

Jacket on but somehow still managing to look sexily disheveled, he strolled onto the stage to loud whistles andwhoops. The whooping overpowered the applause. Grant grinned, hands on his hips, and gave them a flourishing bow.

“We’ll start the bidding at $500 for our worthy cause.” A conservative estimate, but he wasn’t the special guest we had bargained for, and I didn’t want to seem too eager. Anxiety coiled in my stomach. What if this plan backfired? What if no one...

"$500!" A bid broke through the silence, followed by another at $650. Relief washed over me as the bids climbed higher; each number a step closer to success.

“One thousand,” one woman said, blowing a kiss at Grant. He pretended to catch it, and my stomach did an unsteady wobble.

Then came a sudden leap to $5000 that startled everyone present. My gaze flickered between Grant and the bidders, feeling a strange mix of hope and concern knotting in my chest. As more bids soared past $6000 and beyond, I stole glances at Grant who egged them on silently.

The bids spiraled – $6500, $7000 – fueled by competitive spirits vying for victory. Grant gyrated his hips and then, with a wink at me, tugged off his jacket, revealing the T-shirt underneath that was molded to his skin. My mouth went dry at the sight of his long, lean body, the rounded muscles of his shoulders and arms, the tight, slim line of his stomach and hips.

“Your boyfriend ishot,” Midge, one of my employees, whispered, leaning over at me. When I glanced at her in surprise, she added, “Leon told me.”

A swift movement snagged my attention, and I pivoted to see a woman advancing purposefully towards the auction block. She cut a striking figure in a sleek champagne gown, accentuating her platinum blonde hair spilling over one shoulder.

"Ten thousand dollars," she declared, her voice ringing out clear and self-assured. The room hushed momentarily before erupting into a buzz of excitement.

The auctioneer started the count, "Ten thousand going once..." only to be swiftly interrupted by another voice, "Eleven thousand."

The blonde bidder raised her paddle once more, announcing confidently, "Fifteen thousand." A sense of astonishment gripped me; this bid far exceeded my expectations for the fundraiser.

"Twenty thousand," a new bidder chimed in from the crowd.

The blonde's gaze sharpened as she countered. "Fifty thousand dollars," the blonde proclaimed firmly.

The auctioneer's voice echoed. “Going once, going twice… “ The gavel descended with a resounding crack. "Sold! To the beautiful blonde with a huge heart for $50,000!”

"Looks like you might have lost him to that beautiful blonde," Midge remarked. Not only was she stunning, but her bold bidding had captured the interest of everyone in the room.

I cleared my throat of the frog that seemed to have taken residence there. “Yeah.”

The blonde ascended the stage and Grant took her hand, kissing it gallantly, just the way he did with me.

I wanted to help you because you looked like you needed help, and I could. There doesn’t have to be anything more to it than that.

There was no doubting that he’d done just that. A small gesture to him that meant so much to me—but did he know? Or did the world just watch me lose another man to another woman?

His gaze met mine over the crowd, and he gave me a smile meant just for me. Warmth spiraled through me, and I shovedthe ugly, jealous thoughts aside. I needed to stop overanalyzing for once. He’d just stepped up for me in a way my ex never had.

Once the event ended, he sent Konrad home with Winslow and opted to stay and help me clean up. We’d hired a few extra hands, but it would have been negligent of me to leave before making sure the venue was in the condition we found it.

“You didn’t have to stay, you know,” I said.

He shrugged. “I know.”

“Ready for your date?”

“She’s a very beautiful woman,” he said with a straight face, and laughed. “No, but seriously,” his gaze darkened when he looked at me. “I can name one person I’d rather be on a date with.”

“Sorry I don’t have fifty thousand to give you.”

“I’ll settle for a kiss.”

"One kiss," I conceded, my tone firm. When our lips met, there was no intense desire or overwhelming passion. Instead, the kiss held a tenderness that caught me off guard. Stunned, I realized it was the first real kiss we’d shared. We parted reluctantly, and he gave me an exaggerated bow.

As he turned to leave, he called out, "Jane?"

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