Page 57 of Fixing to Be Mine

With Colt, it’s easy to forget everything waiting for me back home.

We’re still laughing as we wander past the dance floor, hand in hand, the music soft behind us. Colt’s arm is warm against mine, and my body feels too light—like something in me got shaken loose during that dance and hasn’t landed yet.

He glances down at me and gives my hand a squeeze. “Not bad for a girl with two left feet.”

“A good partner makes a difference,” I shoot back.

He leads me down a row of tents, where booths are selling candles, hand-stitched aprons, and homemade jams. Someonewaves him over for a raffle ticket. Another woman hands him a flyer for the quilt auction on Monday.

“Oh my God, there you are,” a voice calls from behind us.

We both turn as a blur of denim moves toward us. Fenix.

She skids to a stop in front of us, cheeks flushed, holding a clipboard like she’s on a mission. Her anger from seeing Jace has faded.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Her eyes lock on Colt.

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You, dear brother,” she says with dramatic flair, “must’ve forgotten you volunteered for the Valentine Rodeo Bachelor Auction.”

“I have a girlfriend,” Colt says immediately, already taking a step back. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on. You were a selling point. You’re on the list,” she says. “Backing out is a bitch move.”

I meet his eyes. “She’s right.”

Colt scoffs. “You’re serious? What if I meet the woman of my dreams?”

“Then it was meant to be,” I tell him, hating that idea.

“It’s one evening,” she says. “Only a few hours of light flirting for charity. You’re being auctioned off to help the animal shelter. It’s harmless.”

“Flirting for charity?” I repeat, trying not to laugh.

Fenix winks at me. “You know it.”

Colt sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “This is ridiculous.”

“Community service,” she corrects. “With a spotlight.”

I enjoy their dynamic. It’s cute. I can see how much he cares for her.

“She’s forcing me, and you’re allowing this,” he says, playfully bumping into me.

“It’s for a good cause,” I remind him.

Fenix beams, holding up the clipboard. “You’re up first, big bro.”

“Of course I am.”

She turns on her heel and disappears into the tent, shouting something about checking the microphone.

I turn to Colt, who is watching her go with defeated patience.

“You okay?” I ask, nudging him.

He looks down at me. “I’m getting auctioned off like a prize-winning steer. I’m hanging on by a thread.”

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