“I’ll be back at six, when class is over.” She glances past my shoulder. “Now go, before you’re late.” I grab the handle, but I’m reluctant to leave. “Thanks for the use of your truck,” she says.
The use of my truck is nothing, because as I revel in the warmth in her big brown eyes, I realize it’s the world I truly want to give her.
Chapter Nineteen
Kira
They’ve set up a small stage at the back of the Anchor, and the place teems with women of all ages. The music is loud, but the laughter and excitement buzzing in the air are louder. I stand at the bar with Izzy as she fills a tray with drinks to help the serving staff with the huge crowd.
“This is insane,” I practically yell into her ear.
She grins at me. “Everyone loved Gram, and everyone wants to save her place.”
Guilt niggles through me, and I feel like the worst granddaughter in the world. It’s not that I want to sell it—I have to. But if this town and its amazing people raise a down payment, would I still have to sell?
Oh God, I would, because I simply don’t make enough to pay the monthly mortgage payments. I need to call my mother first thing tomorrow, let her know how this town has rallied together to keep Gram’s house in the family and keep it running as a B&B. Do I think she’ll change her mind? Not a bit. But I have to try at least, right?
At least I have the studio. I’d taken some of the paintings out last week, brought them to one of the downtown galleries so they could be displayed. I could make a fair penny if I sold the studio to Pratt and Whitney—the offer keeps increasing with each letter they send—but I refuse even to entertain the idea. No way would I ever sell that out from under Gram. She asked one thing of me, and I plan to follow through. Either the B&B or the studio has to go. In my heart, I know Gram would rather I didn’t part with either, but when push comes to shove, I just can’t go back on the one last thing she asked of me.
I steal a glance around the crowded bar. Liquor and food are flowing, and everyone is in good cheer. The fishermen have all dressed up for tonight, and Nate looks sharp in a dark gray suit with a white button-down shirt, and hair that’s a bit too long to fit the corporate image he’s exuding.
With an air of authority and confidence in his every movement, he stands out as he shoulders his way through the masses. He steps up to me, a grin on his handsome face, and it’s all I can do to stop gawking at all his hotness. The man cleans up nice. Then again, I fell for him—literally—when he was wearing his fishing gear.
“So you’re not going to bid on me, save me from taking a stranger out to dinner tonight?”
“While I’d like to be the one dining with you, I refuse to. Besides, I get to take you to my bed later,” I say.
“Confident—I like that in a woman.” Our knuckles brush, and warmth goes through my body. I haven’t been here long, and I can’t believe I’m getting used to the cold, but the best part of the snowy fall is the way Nate warms me up every night.
“Well, if you’d rather not—”
“Oh, I’d rather,” he says quickly, and my heart fills with all the insane things I feel for this man and wish I didn’t.
I hold my hand out. “Index card?”
“Shit, I forgot to fill one out.”
Just then, Heather taps the microphone to gather everyone’s attention. “Okay, folks, now that you all have your drinks, we can get the night underway. Remember, this is to save Gram’s B&B, and it’s all in good fun. Thank you all for coming out, and thanks to the fishermen. Now remember they are putting themselves out to help, not ‘putting out’ to help,” she says, and everyone claps and laughs.
Nate leans down, puts his mouth next to my ear, and says, “I’ll be putting out.”
Heat moves through me, and as I envision his body over mine, doing the most delicious things to me, my cheeks must be aflame. I glance up to find Izzy watching us as she approaches with her empty tray.
“You’d better go,” I say to Nate and shove him as the guys all line up.
“I’ll see you at home,” he says.
Home.
Oh God, Gram’s really does feel like home—more of a home than I’ve ever had. I wish I could save it. I wish there were a way.
It will all work out in the end.
As Gram’s wise words, ones Nate said not so long ago, rush through my brain, I throw a silent prayer up for a miracle. I turn and grab the stack of index cards that the guys had filled out. Izzy passes in her order to the bartender and leans against the counter.
“So Nate…” she begins.
My gaze tracks him as he maneuvers his way to the side of the stage with the other. “What about him?”
“You like him, eh?”
“Sure, I like all the guys. We’re a family.” My heart hitches. This motley crew has become my family over the last month, more of a family than I’ve had in a long time.
“Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” she says. “I like to think of you as my sister, and so do the guys. I’m not so sure Nate thinks about you like that.” I swallow down my unease and say nothing. “Has he caught that mouse yet?” she asks with a grin on her face.
Damn, she knows.
“No. Maybe it got back outside before Nate sealed off the hole.”
“Maybe,” she says. “Nate’s nice, though. We like him. He’s a hell of a lot better than the last asshole in his position. He’s more like one of us.” I’m about to ask what she means by that when Heather calls out my name. I make a move to go to the stage, but Izzy puts her hand on my wrist. “You’re a nice girl, Kira. I get what you see in him. I just don’t want to see you hurt, okay?”
“I know what I’m doing,” I say, even though I don’t. God, I have no clue what I’m doing with Nate, or how I’m going to walk away from him, Izzy, all the guys. My throat tightens, and I try to pull off normal when our eyes meet, hold an extra moment. Izzy nods and breaks the contact.
“Okay,” she says. “Go knock ’em dead up there. Here’s to Gram.”
I force my shaky legs to carry me to the stage. I’ve given presentations before, so I’m not a newbie at this, although my presentations had to do with math and science, not auctioning off fishermen.
“Okay, first up,” I say and read the top index card. “It’s Sam Winters,” I say. The crowd claps, and Heather boos. I glance at her and laugh. I do love the comradery between her and Sam. “At six foot four—” I pause. No way is he that tall. I steal a glance at him as he takes to center stage and starts flexing. The crowd goes crazy, and I laugh. He’s such a goofball. “Okay, at six four, and two hundred pounds of pure muscle…” I shake my head and glance at him. “Really, Sam?” I say, and everyone roars.