Page 28 of Love in Bloom

“Yes, but I’m still mad at you,” Krista said.

“That’s OK. Mad fades as long as it’s been forgiven.”

“I feel bad, though. We should have been able to help you. It must have been so hard moving here and buying your aunt’s business and doing it all with a broken heart. I just feel like we should have made it easier for you.”

“Krista, you guys were more helpful than you’ll ever know.”

Now that she’d patched it up with Krista, Wren turned her attention back to the MC. She’d never been to a bachelor auction. She’d been to art auctions, but those were stuffy and staid compared to this.

The MC would read a brief bio about the bachelor as he walked down the catwalk. The bachelor would then describe the date the winner would experience. They ranged in age from mid-twenties through seventy. Tall, short, muscular, gangly, thin, thick, professional, laborer. It was a wide range of Haven men, and they all had one thing in common—the women loved them! Some of the women were lewd, but the men on stage took it in stride.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves,” Wren said to Emily, gesturing toward the stage.

“I think they’re faking it. Jackson told me the best thing about being engaged is it got him out of this,” Emily said.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t. I showed him the best thing about being engaged,” Emily bragged and then blushed. Wren laughed. She was so happy for Emily.

The bidding was competitive and fun to watch, especially in their little group. The first time Rica tried to stop London was the last. London leveled her with an icy glare, frigid enough to stop lava. So, Rica doubled down on saving Krista. Every time Krista raised her paddle, Rica tried to pull it down. “Invest wisely,” she harped to Krista.

“I am! Just look at that guy! I bet he has great dividends,” Krista said. She waggled her well-groomed eyebrows.

Wren held her breath each time the MC introduced the next bachelor.

Thebutterfliesinhisstomach had morphed into African killer bees about five minutes ago. Miller licked his lips and looked around at the last few remaining bachelors. They all looked calm and cool, unlike him. He hadn’t been this nervous since his modeling days. Miller bounced on the balls of his feet, hoping to dispel his nerves.

He hated this. Hated being on display and treated like a piece of meat.Man up. It’s for a good cause,he reminded himself again and tugged on his tight collar.

Although he hadn’t appreciated it at the time, Wren had done him a favor when she’d downed his twenty-five-dollar glass of rum. He didn’t need alcohol mixing with the killer bees in his stomach. He didn’t know what type of havoc drunk killer bees would produce. It made for an interesting visual, and he smirked. And, most importantly, if Wren hadn’t interrupted his drinking, his chances of walking a straight line down the runway would have been nonexistent. Him becoming like his father was the last thing he wanted the people of Haven to see.

“Our next bachelor is the home-grown, six-foot-tall, blue-eyed, dark-haired senior associate at Anderson, Anderson & Swanson, Miller Lynch.” Miller stepped into the spotlight and made his way down the catwalk. “Miller likes to spend his free time running the trails along the bluffs of the Poplar River, coaching youth soccer in our very own parks and recreation league, and cooking.” Miller executed his turn at the end and headed back toward the MC.

“Does he clean up the kitchen afterwards?” a loud woman from the back interrupted. The crowd chuckled.

“Well, Miller, you heard the lady. Do you clean up?”

Miller looked toward where the question came from and said, “Yes.”

“Well, then count me in!” the happy lady claimed.

“So, Miller, what can the lucky winner expect on her date with you?”

“A relaxed time getting to know each other.” Miller worked the room, making pretend eye contact with the crowd. “Dinner at my place with homemade deep-dish pizza, and for dessert —”

“You!” another woman shouted.

“Triple chocolate brownies with sea salt caramel frosting,” Miller said over the laughter. “Then, it’s lady’s choice. We can either go to a Minnesota Wild hockey game, or we can stay in and watch a movie.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted. Miller felt their excitement. He wanted to run, but he held his ground. These women were intense and determined. He focused on the charities that would benefit from his sale.

“Let’s start the bidding at two hundred dollars,” the MC suggested. From that point on, it was fast and furious. Miller couldn’t see faces, but he saw paddles flashing in the air.

As time went on and the bids climbed, Miller grew curious about who was bidding on him. If he squinted and tilted his head to the side, he could see the people in the first few rows. He scanned for any friendly faces. Krista and Rica appeared to be arm wrestling for the paddle. He hoped neither of them was bidding on him. That would be uncomfortable. They were like sisters to him. He spotted a group of servers from the Galley checking their phones. Yeah, he was probably too old for them, anyway.

“And we’re at nine hundred fifty dollars.” The MC dramatically wiped his brow. “Miller, these ladies want your brownies baaad,” he teased. The audience caught the obvious innuendo and laughed.

Great, a comedian, Miller thought as he forced his smile not to dip. A paddle flashed, and the MC turned toward it.

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