Lucky in Love (5 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Lucky in Love
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“Well, that doesn’t bode well for the relationship.”

Yeah, and neither did the fact that they didn’t
have
a relationship. “You should have a date too, Mom.”

“Me?” Ella asked in obvious surprise. “Oh, no. I’m not ready for another man, you know that.”

Mallory did know that. Ella had been saying so for the past decade, ever since The Divorce, which Mallory—however twisted—still one-hundred-percent blamed herself for.

“You look a little peaked, sweetheart. Maybe you’re catching that nasty flu that’s going around.”

No, she was catching Stood-Up-Itis. “I’m good, Mom. No worries.”

“Okay, then I’m going back inside. Dessert’s up next.” Ella kissed her on the cheek and left.

Mallory walked around the rest of the auction items. She checked the parking lot again for Mysterious No-Longer-So-Cute Guy. By then, dessert was just about over. When the lights dimmed and the PowerPoint slide show started—the one she’d put together to showcase the auction items—she sneaked in. Tip-toeing to one of the back tables, she grabbed the first empty seat she could find and let out a breath.

So far so good.

She took a surreptitious peek at the people at her table but it was too dark to see across from her. To her right was an empty chair. To her left was a man, sitting still in the shadows, his face turned to the slide show. She was squinting, trying to figure out why he seemed so vaguely familiar when someone came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Mallory, there you are.”

Her boss.
Crap
. She craned her neck and smiled. “Hello, Jane.”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You’re late.” Jane Miller was the director of nurses, and probably in her previous life she’d been queen of her very own planet. She had a way of moving and speaking that demanded attention and subtly promised a beheading if she was disappointed in the slightest.

“Oh, I’m not just getting here,” Mallory assured her. “I’ve been behind the scenes all night.”

“Hmm,” Jane said. “And…?”

“And everything’s running smoothly,” Mallory quickly assured her. “We have a full house. We’re doing good.”

“Okay, then.” Rare approval entered Jane’s voice. “That’s terrific.” She eyed the chair to the right of Mallory. The empty spot. “Your date didn’t show up?”

And here’s where Mallory made her mistake. She honestly had no idea what came over her: simple exhaustion from a very long week, or it might have been that her heels were already pinching her feet. But most likely it was sheer, stubborn pride—which her grandmother had always told her would be the death of her. “My date is right here,” she whispered. As discreetly as she could, she gestured with her chin to the man to her left, praying that his date didn’t take that moment to come back from the restroom.

“Lovely.” Jane smiled politely at the back of his head. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Oh for God’s sake. Mallory glanced over at the man, grateful he was paying them no attention whatsoever. “He’s very busy watching the slide show.”

Jane’s smile didn’t falter. She also didn’t budge. It was her patent alpha dog stance, the one that hospital administrators, politicians, and God himself bent over backward for.

Mallory gritted her teeth and again glanced at her “date,” expecting him to still be watching the slide show.

He wasn’t.

He was looking right at her, and naturally the slide show ended at that very moment and the lights went up.

He had a bandage above his eye, which she knew covered stitches, and there was a small bruise on his cheek, where she’d nailed him with Grace’s cell phone.

Mysterious Cute Guy.

Do Not Disturb: Chocolate fantasy in progress.

  

M
allory’s first thought at the sight of Mysterious Cute Guy:
Holy smokes.
The night of the storm she hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but she was getting one now. Edgy expression, dangerous eyes, long, hard physique clothed in the elegant, sophisticated packaging of a dark suit. He’d managed to pack a wallop while prone and bleeding but that had been nothing compared to what happened to her now when he was upright and conscious. Before she could speak, a spotlight hit the stage, revealing a microphone.

“That’s you,” Jane said, pulling Mallory out of the chair. “You’re introducing the auction, yes?”

Saved by the bell. Or by the end of the slide show. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Well?” Jane said to Cute Guy. “You’re her date, aren’t you? Escort her up there.”

The expression on his face never changed from that cool, assessing calm. And even though Mallory had no idea what he did for a living, or even his name, she’d bet the last three dollars in her wallet that few people, if anyone,
ever
barked an order at him. “Oh,” she said in a rush to Jane. “It’s okay, he doesn’t have to—”

But he was already on his feet, setting his hand at the small of her back, gesturing for her to go ahead of him.

Craning her neck, she stared up at him.

He stared back, brow arched, mouth only very slightly curved.

Hot
, he’d called her. Sure, he’d also called her “bossy,” and he hadn’t been in full possession of his faculties at the time, but even now, the memory gave her a tingle in some places that had no business tingling.

“Mallory,” Jane said in that Displeased Queen voice again. “Get on with it.”

“Yes,
Mallory
,” her “date” said, his voice low and grainy, with just a touch of irony. “Let’s get on with it.”

She nearly let out a short, half-hysterical laugh but she slapped her hand over her mouth. Later. She’d die of embarrassment later. She forced a smile for anyone looking at them, and
everyone
was looking at them. Speaking out of the corner of her mouth for his ears alone, she whispered, “You don’t have to do this, pretend to be on the date you didn’t want in the first place.”

For the briefest flash, something flickered in his eyes before he smoothed it out and went back to his impassive blank face. Confusion? She wasn’t sure, and it no longer mattered. Sure, an apology for standing her up would be nice, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. For whatever reason, he was willing to play along, and at the moment, with Jane staring holes in her back, Mallory was grateful.

She threaded her way through the tables to the stage, managing a smile at everyone who caught her eye. But she couldn’t have come up with a single name to go with those faces. Not when she was so completely aware of that big, warm hand at the small of her back to go along with the big, strong, gorgeous guy escorting her. He was close enough for her to catch his scent.

Which, by the way, was still fantastic, damn him.

As they got to the stage stairs, she caught the fact that he was limping. She glanced down at his leg. What had happened? He hadn’t injured his leg in the storm that she knew of. “Are you okay?”

“Later,” he said, and nudged her up the stairs to the stage.

With five hundred sets of eyes on her, she let it go and took the mic. “Good evening, Lucky Harbor,” she said.

The crowd hooted and hollered.

In spite of herself, she felt a genuine smile escape at their enthusiastic greeting. She’d grown up in this town, had found her life’s passion working as a nurse in this town, and knew that even if she somehow ended up on the other side of the world some day for whatever reason, she’d always smile at the thought of Lucky Harbor. “Let’s make some money for health care tonight, okay?”

More wild applause. Then someone yelled out, “Who’s the hottie with you?”

This was from Tammy, of course, sitting at one of the front tables, her hands curled around her mouth so that her voice would carry to the stage.

Mallory ignored her sister’s heckling as best she could and turned to the big screen behind her. “Okay, everyone, get your bidding paddles ready because we have some great stuff for you tonight. Our favorite auctioneer, Charles Tennessee, is going to come up here, and I expect to see lots of action. I want cat fights, people. Hair-pulling if necessary. Whatever it takes to keep the bidding going. So let the fun begin—”

“We want to meet your date!”

Mallory let out a breath and looked down at Lucille, sitting at another front table.

Lucille gave her a finger wave, which Mallory also ignored, but it was hard to ignore the “
Do it
,
do it
,
do it
” chanting now coming from Tammy’s table. Her brother was there too, looking every bit the part of the mountain biking bum that he was, with the perpetual goggle tan, the streaked, long brown hair. Tall and lanky lean, Joe sat with an arm slung around the blonde he was dating this week. Mallory caught movement at her right and glanced over as her so-called date strode up the stairs to the stage. Oh God, this wasn’t going to help anything, and she shook her head vehemently at him to stop, to go back.

Instead he joined her.

She shook her head again, and she’d have sworn he was laughing at her without his mouth so much as twitching. His eyes were sharp with intelligence, wit, and absolutely no hint of remorse or shame at standing her up. She should probably get over that—and quickly—because the entire audience was now fixated on both of them, the anticipation palpable. With no choice but to be as gracious as possible, Mallory shook her head at the crowd. “Bloodthirsty lot, all of you.”

Everyone laughed.

“One of these days,” she said. “You’re all going to get a life.”

Everyone laughed again, but she knew no one was going to move on to the auction until she did this, until she introduced Mysterious Cute Guy. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t try to tell me you don’t know the man standing next to me. I’ve seen his FB stats.”

More laughter, and what might have been slight bafflement from the man himself. “Everyone,” she said. “Meet…” She trailed off with one thought.
Crap
. Hard to believe that she could possibly have yet another embarrassing moment in her tonight, but she shouldn’t have underestimated herself. Drawing a deep breath, she had no choice. She turned to him and she knew damn well that he knew what she needed.

His name.

Again, the very hint of a smile touched the corner of his lips as he looked at her, brow quirked. He was going to make her
ask
, the big, sexy jerk. Well, that’s what she got for wanting Mr. All Wrong. Mr. Bad Boy. Mr. Smoking Hot. He was going to burn her, for sure, and she would lay the blame at the chocoholics’ feet. But she’d yell at Amy and Grace later. For now, she had to deal with this. The question was how? She hadn’t a clue.
Uncle
, she finally mouthed to him.

Leaning in close so that his broad chest bumped her shoulder, he wrapped his fingers around hers on the mic. They were tanner than hers, and work-roughened. And the touch of them made her shiver.

“Mallory’s just being shy,” he said to the audience, then slid her a look that she couldn’t begin to decipher. The man was most excellent at hiding his thoughts. “I’m Ty Garrison. The…date.”

Shy her ass. And she knew damn well he hadn’t known her name either, not until Jane had said it. And now he was giving her that bad boy smirk, and she wanted to smack him, but at least she finally knew his name.

Ty Garrison.

It suited him. She’d known a Ty once in first grade. He’d pulled her hair, torn up her homework, and told Mrs. Burland that she’d stolen his. It fueled her temper a little bit just thinking about it. “So there you have it,” she said, commandeering the microphone. “Now let’s get to the auction, and have a good time.” She quickly introduced the auctioneer and gratefully stepped down off the stage, happy to be out of the spotlight.

She walked quickly through the crowd, even happier to note that no one was paying her any attention now; they were all glued to the auctioneer.

Except Lucille.

Lucille, in a silver ball gown that looked like a disco ball, snapped a photo of Mallory with her phone and then winked.

Mallory sighed and was bee-lining for her seat when she was waylaid by her mom, who pulled her down for a hug. Mallory had no idea where her supposed date had gone. Apparently he’d vanished when she’d left the stage, which worked for her. She did not want to subject him to her mother.

The auction had begun with her bracelet, and Mallory quickly grabbed an auction paddle from Ella’s table, unable to help herself. No one else was bidding, so she told herself it was a sacrifice for the cause, and raised her paddle.

“Mallory,” her mother admonished. “You can’t afford that bracelet.”

This was true. Annoying but true. “I’m thirty, mom. I get to make my own dumb decisions now, remember?”

“Like going out with a man whose name you didn’t even know?” She sounded scandalized. “That’s as bad as finding a man on…” She lowered her voice to a horrified whisper, as if she was imparting a state secret. “—the
Internet
!”

“I’m not looking for a man on the Internet. And it’s just a one-night thing with Ty.”

Someone behind them won the bracelet, and the auctioneer went on to the next item.

“Listen to me, honey,” Ella said. “Ty Garrison is not the kind of man who’s going to marry you and give me grandchildren.”

Well, her mom was absolutely right on that one. “I’m not looking for that, either.” At least not right this moment.

“What
are
you looking for?”

Good question. “I don’t know exactly.” She looked around at the social crowd, who were all far more into the party atmosphere than bidding. “I guess I’m…bored.”

Her mother looked as if she’d just admitted to smoking a crack pipe.

“And I’m restless too,” Mallory said. “And…sad, if you want to know the whole ugly truth.” She hadn’t even realized that was true until it popped out of her mouth without permission, but she couldn’t take it back now.

“Oh, honey.” Ella squeezed her hand, her eyes suspiciously damp. “Out of all you kids, you’ve always been my easy one.” The crowd got louder and so Ella did too. “The good one, and sometimes I forget to check in and make sure you’re okay. Especially after Karen—”

“I
am
okay.” And if she wasn’t, well then she could handle it. But dammit, she was tired. Tired of doing what was expected, tired of feeling like she was missing something.

“Mallory,” Ella said softly, concerned. “You’ve also always been the smart one. I depend on that from you, honey.” She paused. “You’re not going to do anything stupid tonight that you’ll regret later, right?”

Well, that depended on her mother’s definition of
stupid
. As for regrets, she tried hard to live without them. “I hope so.”

Her mother looked at something over Mallory’s shoulder and made a funny little noise in her throat. Mallory froze, closing her eyes for a beat before turning to find—
of course
—Ty.

Looking bigger than life, he stood there holding two glasses of wine. He handed one over to her while she did her best to stay cool. Downing half the glass went a long way toward assuring that.
Please let him not have heard any of that.…

“Ty Garrison,” Ella said as if testing out the name. “Is my daughter safe with you?”


Mom
,” Mallory said quickly. “Jesus.”

“Don’t swear, honey.” But Ella held up a hand in concession. “And fine. I’ll reword.” She looked at Ty. “Are you going to hurt my daughter?”

Ty looked at Mallory as he answered. “She’s too smart to let that happen.”

Okay, so he
had
heard every word. Terrific. God, she was so far out of her league she could no longer even
see
her league. Her mom had asked if she was going to do anything stupid. And Mallory was pretty sure that the answer was a resounding yes.

As if he could read her thoughts, Ty gave her a sardonic little half toast with his glass, then surprised her by moving away.

Which meant
he
was smart too. “Well,” Mallory said. “This has been lots of fun.”

“I’m going to assume that was sarcasm,” her mom said.

“Always knew I got my smarts from somewhere.” Mallory leaned in and kissed Ella’s cheek, then went back to her own table where she’d left her purse. That’s when she realized that her problems were bigger than her own stupidity issues. Although the room was filled with the sounds of happy, well-fed people, they really were doing far more socializing than bidding. When a “Boating at the Marina” package came up and no one lifted their paddle, Jane locked her unhappy gaze on Mallory’s.

Mallory smiled reassuringly while quivering inside.
Someone bid, someone please bid
, she thought with desperation, trying to make it happen by sheer will.

Finally, someone did, but it didn’t bring in the money she’d expected.

The next item was a big ticket one, an expensive night on the town in Seattle, which included a limo, a fancy dinner, and an orchestra concert. The bidding began at another low, modest rate, and Mallory’s heart landed in her throat.

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