Men On Fire. Susan Lyons
flashed again.
Cara Winters, the emcee, fanned herself. “Ladies, our imagination can fill in the rest.”
My imagination was working overtime. I had a feeling Quinn O’Malley could end my sexual dry spell with a bang. He hadn’t been any more blatantly sexy than the other men, yet his easy confidence told a story of its own.
Cara held out a fan of index cards. He chose one and handed it to her. She read, “Why are you still a bachelor?”
He was quiet a moment, and when he spoke his tone was serious. “I believe in marriage and kids. They give life meaning, and they’re a long-term commitment.”
As he spoke, I nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” he went on, “I’d like that one day. I can see it.” His expression was reflective, almost as if he’d gone inside his own head and was envisioning the future. The man was no doubt a player, but these remarks seemed genuine. Then the grin and dimple flashed again. “So I’ll fall back on that old line, a guy has to wait for the right woman to come along.”
When he strolled off stage, his gait was easy, powerful, totally masculine.
“Jade, you aren’t writing any comments,” Amarjeet said.
“He’s—” I could barely speak, my throat was so dry. “He’s not the kind of man I want.”
“Yeah, that’s why you can’t peel your eyes off him,” Kimberly teased, “and you’ve crunched up your program in your sweaty little hand.”
I smoothed out the program, tried to calm my achingly aroused body, and did my best to concentrate. But my attention was shot. I made notes about one man, a lawyer who worked for a civil rights organization and was perfect, yet I couldn’t summon enthusiasm.
After the last bachelor, the emcee announced a 15-minute break. The three of us rose with the rest of the audience. “Another drink?” Kimberly said.
“Sure,” I said. “Bet they’re mostly fruit juice.”
“I will as well,” Amarjeet agreed. “I’m having so much fun.” As we lined up at one of the bars, she asked, “Have you chosen your man, Jade?”
3
I opened my crumpled program. “I’ve narrowed it to four.” I pointed to the pictures of the high-school teacher, the doctor, the civil rights lawyer, and bachelor number one, Justin Wong.
“Quinn’s not on the list?” Kimberly asked.
“The firefighter?” I tried to sound casual. “Blue collar isn’t the right image for Triple-F.”
“He’s a hero,” Amarjeet said. “Didn’t you hear the emcee say he’s got a commendation for bravery?”
“I missed that.” No doubt I’d been drooling over his pecs and dimple at the time.
We’d finally reached the front of the line and ordered another three Raining Mens.
“He has a great attitude about marriage and kids,” Amarjeet said.
“The guys were making a sales pitch. Half of what they said was just a line.” Except, while Quinn’s eyes had twinkled as he talked about sailing, cooking, and carpentry, his expression had seemed earnest when he spoke about families and commitment.
“I believed him,” Amarjeet said as we moved away from the bar.
“Plus, he’s sexy,” Kimberly said, “and Jade’s totally lusting after him. A girl should be attracted to her fiancé, even if he’s only a faux one.”
“Look, you two, I—”
“Jade?” A female voice behind me made me turn.
Oh, crap. It was Melinda Daniels, my boss Fred’s wife, looking sophisticated in a black-and-white dress. From the day I’d started at Triple-F, she’d been nice to me, and I always enjoyed talking to her. But her being here tonight could ruin everything.
“Melinda, what a surprise.” I tried to act pleased. “Is Fred here too?”
“You think I could drag him to a bachelor auction? No, I came with friends. It’s such a good cause. I’ve bid on a couple of items in the silent auction.”
I introduced her to my friends, then said to her, “It’s going to be an interesting time for you and Fred, with him retiring. I guess you’re looking forward to it.”
“Mostly yes. But it will be an adjustment.” She smiled. “Marriage goes through phases, and the transition times are interesting. But like that young man onstage said, it’s about commitment and being in it for the long term.”
“I believe that too.”
“How about you, Jade? Is there a special man in your life these days?”
“Uh, well…”
Kimberly grabbed my left hand and pulled it behind my back; then I felt a ring slide on my finger. “Jade’s engaged,” she said brightly.
“Really? Congratulations.”
I lifted my hand and flashed Kimberly’s diamond. “Thanks. It just happened.” Beside me, Amarjeet choked back a laugh. I told myself it wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t know which of my four choices he’d turn out to be.
“Guess you’re not bidding on a bachelor, then?” Melinda teased.
“Me?” My voice squeaked. “Oh, no. Just to support the cause. Which reminds me, there’s something I want to bid on in the silent auction. Will you excuse me?” I had to get away before she asked for details about my fiancé.
“I’ll see you next week at the Triple-F picnic. I can’t wait to meet your fiancé.”
“Me either,” I muttered under my breath as I hurried away, Kimberly and Amarjeet following me. “Why did you do that, Kimberly?”
“Impulse.” She shrugged. “You were going to announce it at work Monday, right?”
“I guess.” We huddled in a corner. “But, damn, now I can’t bid. One of you has to do it.”
“Me!” Kimberly said. “Let the engaged girl live vicariously.”
Amarjeet frowned. “But Melinda’s met you, Kimberly. She’ll notice, and probably recognize the guy when Jade takes him to Triple-F.”
“I’m so screwed,” I moaned. “Do we have a plan B?”
“We can figure this out,” Kimberly said. “If I buy the guy, you can tell Melinda, uh…”
“That your fiancé volunteered for the fund-raiser before the two of you got serious,” Amarjeet said. “He didn’t want to pull out and leave the organizers in the lurch. But nor was it fair that some poor woman win him under false pretences, so you got a friend to bid. No, wait, with that story, you could bid yourself.”
“I’d rather have a degree of separation. Thanks, Amarjeet, that’s a good cover story.”
“Oh, yay, I get to buy a guy,” Kimberly said gleefully. “Brian’s going to get such a laugh out of this.”
We were chuckling when the loudspeaker told us to return to our seats. “Okay,” I said, “let’s try for the first one on my list. If the bids go too high, we’ll bail and wait for the next.”
“Hurry up,” Kimberly said, “we want to get good seats.”
“Save me one,” I said. “I have to go to the ladies’ room.”
I hurried away, noticing that the floor swayed gently. Those Raining Mens packed more of a punch than I’d thought.
When I returned, my friends were giggling and their glasses were empty. They’d saved me a