Bachelor In Blue Jeans. Lauren Nichols
had always considered these kinds of things tacky and dehumanizing. But as the director of Wisdom’s Small Business Association, one of the auction’s sponsors, she was almost obligated to attend.
Now she wished she’d insisted that someone else take her place this evening.
Fighting the urge to finger-comb her short auburn hair, she watched Zach walk toward her, stop to accept Maybelle’s over-the-top thanks, then continue forward with slow, deliberate strides.
It disturbed her to realize that seeing him again could electrify her nerve endings, harden her heart and shatter it, all at the same time.
He stopped several feet from her. “Hello, Kristin,” he said politely.
She managed to keep her voice from trembling. “Hello, Zach. You’re looking well.”
“You, too.”
“Thank you.” Apparently, they were going to be civil.
He’d only been back a few times since her mother’s death nine years ago, generally during the holidays to visit his aunt Etta. But this was the first time she’d seen him since the funeral. She was unprepared for the changes that years of working outdoors had created. Though it was barely June, his rugged face was deeply tanned, with faint lines bracketing his mouth and creasing the skin beside his gray eyes. And though he’d always been tall, he now had a powerfully built body that not even the classic lines of a tuxedo could hide.
Like warning buoys, those old feelings of hurt and resentment tipped and bobbed in the wide gulf between them. And impossibly, beneath those emotions, the undertow of attraction still pulled. Kristin read the look in his eyes and knew he felt it, too. But he didn’t welcome it.
“Why me?” he asked after the silence had stretched out as long as either of them could tolerate it. “God knows there were enough other men you could’ve bid on. Even good old Chad.” His mouth thinned. “Or was there something you neglected to say the last time we spoke?”
No, she’d said every harsh, hurtful thing that was in her heart the day of her mother’s funeral. It had been wrong, but seeing him at the cemetery after two devastating weeks at the hospital watching her mother slowly slip away was more than she could take. His presence had only made her feel worse.
“Actually, I’d planned to bid on someone else,” she lied, unwilling to let him know he still got to her. “Unfortunately, I was in the ladies’ room when he was auctioned off. You were my last chance to donate to the Children’s Christmas Fund.”
He eyed her skeptically. “The people running this shindig wouldn’t accept a straight donation? No charity I know operates that way.”
Kristin released a sigh. She’d never been good at lying. That was his talent. “All right. I felt sorry for you, too.”
A nerve leapt in his jaw. “You felt sorry for me?”
“Yes.” She knew how he felt about pity, but the truth wouldn’t have been necessary if he’d been gentleman enough to accept her first answer. “I saw how uncomfortable you were, and for a second, I remembered that we were friends once. I wanted you off the runway.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.” She wouldn’t let him think all was forgiven when nothing was further from the truth. “It was just a knee-jerk reaction. If I had it to do over again, I probably wouldn’t have.”
His gray gaze went flat. “I’ll send you a check in the morning to cover your bid.”
“There’s no need to do that.”
“Yes, there is. If you remember anything about me, you know I don’t like owing people. I had enough of that when I was putting off bill collectors for my old man.”
“This isn’t a debt, Zach.”
“It feels like one. After all, you did get me off the runway—and you didn’t get the man you wanted. I’ll mail the check to your shop.”
“I’ll send it right back,” she said, and started away.
Zach grabbed her hand. He released it quickly when a shock jolted them both.
Kristin’s heart raced as they stared at each other. It’s just static, she told herself. Just static electricity from the carpet.
The moment stretched out on tenterhooks. Then Zach’s voice softened, reminding her that they hadn’t always been distant with each other. “It never changes between us, does it, Kris? Even after all these years, sparks still fly the second we—”
She couldn’t listen to this. “I have to go. Goodbye, Zach.”
Then she strode back toward the table groupings, her stomach quaking, and every nerve ending in her body wound like a steel spring. It was illogical, irrational and unbelievable, but as much as she despised what he’d done, the chemistry they’d surrendered to the summer of their senior year was still strong, still fierce, still dangerously tempting.
And she resented it.
Zach watched her wave and smile to friends as she hurried toward the opposite end of the room, then stopped to talk to three women who’d risen to corral her. He was finally free to take a good long look. His gaze slid appreciatively over her narrow back, over the flare of her hips in the sleeveless black dress she wore, then slipped down her long, shapely legs. He took in her hair again. It was short now—not much longer than his—but silky bangs still fell below her brows, framing her wide, beautiful brown eyes. They were the confident eyes of a woman now, he decided. Clear, intelligent…and unforgiving.
He jammed his hands into his trouser pockets. He’d thought his mood couldn’t get any blacker when Etta met him at the door with the damn tux. He’d been wrong.
“Well,” Etta said wistfully, magically appearing as though he’d conjured her up. “That certainly didn’t go as well as I’d planned.”
With difficulty, Zach pulled his gaze from Kristin and glanced down at his great-aunt’s rueful expression. “What didn’t go well? The auction?”
She slipped an arm through his. “No, dear, your meeting with Kristin. I’d hoped it would be a little friendlier, but I suppose with all that’s between you, it was too much to hope for. Maybe you should stop by her shop tomorrow and try again.”
Everything in Zach stilled as he stared down at his elfin aunt, and his mind took him on a slow, sure path to trickery and deceit. “Aunt Etta, what did you do?”
“Come dear,” she said, patting his arm. “Let’s have some dessert.”
Zach stood his ground. “I don’t want dessert, I want an explanation. What did you do?”
But she was already walking toward a table where blueberry cheesecake and coffee sat untouched in front of six empty chairs. Swearing beneath his breath, Zach followed, seated her, then took the chair next to her. “You set me up! There was no sick bachelor. That’s why you wanted me here a day early.”
Without a trace of apology, Etta placed a white linen napkin on her lap. “Honestly, Zachary, we should all be grateful you decided to go into the construction business. You’d have made a dreadful detective. Didn’t you wonder why your tuxedo fit so well? The jacket, the trousers—the size fourteen shoes?”
No, he hadn’t, but then, he’d never expected Etta to bamboozle him, either. “Could we forget my deductive powers for the moment? Why in hell would you feel the need to drag me down here and put me through this?”
“Because I’ve waited years for you to marry a nice girl and bring some children into this world before I’m gone, and I’m running out of patience. When you offered to come home and get the farmhouse ready to sell, I decided that a bit of meddling was justified if it got you and Kristin talking again. It’s time.”
Zach narrowed his eyes, trying his best to follow Etta’s reasoning. “You