Brenne laughed. “Making pickles and sauerkraut mostly.”
He picked up the clipboard and perused the amounts listed. “The current top bid is $35. Is that a fair price?”
Shrugging, Brenne moved her head back and forth. “Maybe? You could ask my mother if you want a specific answer.”
“Not necessary,” Gavin said, scribbling down his name and a number. “I’ve assessed the item’s attributes and have made a fair bid.” He moved down the line to the next item. “Three months of fresh produce delivery starting in spring.” Gavin glanced at the clipboard. “Do people in Whiskey River have a propensity for low-ball offers?”
Brenne looked at the clipboard and shook her head. “Those look like fair offers to me.”
“No,” Gavin muttered, then wrote down his name and a larger number. He continued making his way around the table, commenting on each item then debating what a fair price would be.
“Gavin, I hate to point out the obvious, but you’re a billionaire,” she said after they’d moved on to the next table. “When is the last time you bought a gently used tiller machine?”
He looked up at her. “Never. Why are you asking?”
She held back a giggle and tried to explain. “Maybe things cost more where you’re from, or you’re unfamiliar with the items. I’m just saying you might not have the experience needed to calculate the exact price of all these items.”
“Respectfully, Brenne,” he said with a playful grin, “I beg to differ. Now how about this antique glass rolling pin? It could make a nice gift for your mother.”
It went on that way until Gavin had made a bid on every single item in the auction. He was writing down his last bid when Brenne felt a hug from behind. “My goodness, you look gorgeous!”
She turned around to see Emma’s smiling face. “You’re looking mighty fine yourself,” Brenne said, returning her smile. “And I hear you’re responsible for this entire event. You’ve done one hell of a job.”
“I can’t take all of the credit,” Emma replied. “Dozens of folks volunteered to lend a hand or donate items.” She turned to look at someone in the crowd, a dreamy expression taking over her features. “And I couldn’t have done any of it without Alex.”
Brenne turned to follow her gaze and found Alex in conversation with Jameson and Ray Maxwell, the fire captain for Whiskey River and a member of their bi-weekly poker game. Alex was as handsome as any on-screen hunk in his dark suit, his hair parted and styled into an artful wave. Just looking at him made her heart beat harder.
He turned suddenly and caught her gaze, and she felt like she’d been hit by lightning. She could hear Emma talking, but she couldn’t make out the words over the pounding in her ears. Then one little word snapped her back to the present. “I better get back to my date.”
Date. Emma and Alex are dating.
Brenne watched as the other woman made her way over to him, trying not to stare daggers at Emma. She doesn’t deserve that. It isn’t her fault she’s fallen for the man I want. Still, she couldn’t help the sting of betrayal she felt when Alex put an arm around Emma’s shoulders. Brenne looked away, her gaze landing on the dance floor where couples were moving in time to scores from Hollywood blockbusters. “Let’s dance,” she said suddenly, grabbing Gavin’s hand and pulling him onto the dance floor.
She thought she could lose herself in the activity, or at least distract herself from the torrent of emotions inside her. Anger and jealousy fought the pervasive sadness that threatened to sink her. Brenne tried to stay present, to enjoy the event, but just seeing Alex was enough to taint her experience. Which was a shame because Gavin Jeffries turned out to be a good dancer.
“Mind if I cut in?”
She turned her head to find Jameson addressing Gavin. His tone was cool but respectful, and Gavin nodded and backed away. Jameson took her hand and turned her gently around the dance floor. “You look like a hundred bucks, sis.”
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” Jameson was dressed in pressed blue jeans with a white T-shirt and a red jacket that was close to the one James Dean wore in Rebel Without A Cause.
“I went for something a little different. But it’s still Hollywood.”
“It is,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Is he treating you right?” Jameson asked softly, cocking his head at Gavin who was taking a turn around the dance floor with Milly Beakins. They seemed to be hitting it off, which was par for the course with the eccentric billionaire.
“Gavin is a gentleman,” Brenne said. She kept it at that, not ready to reveal the plan she’d knitted together with Peggy. She still wasn’t a hundred percent sold on it herself, so the quieter she kept things, the better.
Jameson gave her a searching look, then a small nod. “If he does anything—”
“He won’t,” Brenne said, cutting her brother off. “He’s harmless.”
Jameson let out a soundless laugh. “Harmless, huh?”
The song ended and Brenne took a step back. “Thanks for the dance,” she said, then fled the dance floor. She wasn’t up to a serious heart-to-heart with her brother, not now. She already felt out of sorts dressed the way she was. The looks she was getting from the local folks were putting her on edge, not to mention the fact that her ex seemed to have moved on immediately.
“Ex” isn’t exactly the correct term, since we were never together, she reminded herself, then repressed a hysterical giggle. I need some air. Brenne made a beeline for the bathroom. She almost made it.
Not used to wearing so much fabric around her feet, Brenne had trouble walking at warp speed. Her shoe caught on the hem of her dress and she stumbled forward, falling into a brawny chest. She looked up to find Alex staring down at her. “You’re in a hurry.”
“Pardon me,” she said, trying to keep her tone cool. “I’ll get out of your way.” Brenne tried to shift around him, but Alex wasn’t letting her go. Her eyes met his again. Although his face was cold, his gaze burned her.
“When you walked in the door, I almost didn’t recognize you.” His tone was gruff, his voice low so no one could overhear him. “What happened to the cowgirl I know?”
“She classed up,” Brenne said, irritation pricking her. His words played on the anxiety she’d been experiencing since she walked through the door and all eyes turned in her direction. I must look ridiculous. No one is going to let me live tonight down.
Alex was startled by the venom in her voice. His face hardened, and he drew her by the wrist down the hallway, pushing her into an empty room and closing the door behind him. They were in the wood-paneled Grange office, home to ancient office furnishings and a couch that looked like it came over on the Mayflower.
“What are we doing in here?” Brenne said, throwing up her hands in frustration. “Why do you insist on throwing us together?”
“You’re dating Gavin Jeffries.” His tone was matter of fact. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he leaned against the door. “You invited him to this event as your date. I overheard my sister on the phone with you, talking about what kind of dress to buy. ‘Tight in all the right places,’ is what Peggy told you. I must say, job well done.”