Running Interference (21 page)

“You want me to win you?”

“No, I want me to win me.”

“That takes self-absorption to a whole different level.”

He chuckled. “You know exactly where I'm going with this. I want me to win me so I can give me to T.”

“Again, there's a little self-absorption in there, but you mean well.” She punched his upper arm. “Consider it done.”

And not a moment too soon for just then the auctioneer said, “Ladies, it's the moment you've all been waiting for!”

“Simmons, you're on,” called a stagehand. “Now!”

God, he hoped this worked.

Cam stepped on stage in his silk boxer's getup, and Tanya felt the room sway. She clenched her jaw to block out some of the crowd noise. Man, if they were alone she'd unwrap him like a present. The robe clung to his shoulders and arms, and a grin graced his gorgeous face. Then, she would lick him like a super-sized, rock-hard lollipop.
Damn.
That man was fine.

He scanned the crowd, and suddenly his gaze seemed to settle on her.

Her face flushed, and he smiled. Everyone else faded away. The connection was so strong, she took a step toward him, but then the auctioneer's voice broke her trance.

“By the sound of things, our final bachelor needs no introduction. The homegrown Cam Simmons is every Clevelander's favorite Super Bowl MVP.”

More screaming. He loosened the belt and dropped the robe.

Beyond fine. He was perfect. And she'd had that—all of it—but she'd given it away. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.
God, if you give me another chance with him, I'll never screw it up again.

With the phone to her ear, she adjusted her grip on the numbered paddle. This was going to be the best eleven grand she'd ever spent.

“Let's start the bidding for a football-centric weekend in Boston, Massachusetts with Cam Simmons as your tour guide at one thousand dollars.”

Paddles and shouts went up around her. She counted at least ten between her and the stage.

“One thousand dollars. I have one thousand dollars. Do I have fifteen hundred?”

Of course he did. Nobody was dropping out yet. She took a closer look at her competition. There were a lot of wealthy-looking, middle-aged women like MJ predicted. Except that one. Her eyes locked with Katerina, who smiled, but then her gaze shifted from Tanya's face to the paddle and the phone in Tanya's hands. The pleasant exchange turned challenge.

Bring it on, honey.
Because I know your breaking point.
Ten grand.

“Who's on the phone?” asked the woman beside Tanya.

She stiffened. “Uh, can't say. Confidential.”

“Ooh!” The woman nodded. “So exciting.”

And nerve-wracking. Tanya smiled and angled her back a bit hoping to put a barrier between her and the nosey woman. She was going to have to up her acting game. Or risk being called out as a manipulator of an auction that was benefiting her father.

“Do I have two thousand dollars?”

The crowd responded.

Tanya lifted her paddle too, and stole another look at Cam. That's why she was doing this. That man right there. He wiggled his hips and pumped his arms in a simulated touchdown dance.
Mmm
, she hummed beneath her breath. That was
her
man.

He walked the edge of the ring and reached out to touch hands with bidders. When he was in front of her, their eyes met. He saw the phone and the raised paddle too. For a split second, his brow furrowed, but then he moved on to work the crowd.

Was he angry she was bidding? But that didn't make sense. He didn't know she was bidding for her. And if he did, he'd have to be impressed. She'd taken the flashy route—for him. He'd have to give her credit for that. No, he wasn't angry. She was just paranoid. Under the circumstances, who could blame her?

She shook off the unrest and focused on the auctioneer.

“Twenty-five-hundred. I have twenty-five-hundred. Do I have three thousand dollars?”

Surely people would start dropping out now. She raised her paddle and took a good look at the crowd in front
and
in back of her. Surprise. Surprise. Jillian was raising a paddle too. Another phone bidder. For some reason, that felt like trouble. But Tanya put her game face on and refused to let it rattle her.

At five grand, people started dropping out, and she breathed a little easier. Halfway there. She wanted to holler, “Eleven grand!” and end this thing. But the bigger the scene the more curious people would be about her mystery bidder. As it was, with less and less bidders, she became more and more interesting to people around her.

“Are we still doing this?” she asked nobody on the phone.

Hell, yes. Did you see his abs?
She smiled at her reasoning, and then announced a loud, “Okay!”

So this was what it felt like to be crazy.

At seven grand, even more bidders dropped out, and the auctioneer urged Cam to give a “gun show” to remind the women why he was worth so much.

Tanya didn't need the reminder. The man flexed and relaxed in
all
the right places.

“Ten grand!” shouted Katerina, shocking the crowd.

That crushed much of the opposition and put Tanya on edge. This was it. She glanced behind her to see Jillian was still in the game. They exchanged puzzled looks.

Who was on the phone with Jillian, and how much did she have at stake?

Tanya couldn't go much higher than ten grand. She had eleven grand okay'd by Tag, and she had another thousand dollars between her checking and savings accounts. Eleven-five was her max.

“We've got ten thousand dollars! Do we have ten-five?”

Here we go.
Tanya held her breath and raised her hand.

“Ten-five!” the auctioneer yelled.

She didn't dare look at Katerina and give away what she knew—even though she wanted to see the woman defeated.

When the auctioneer didn't start his countdown to final bidding, she knew at least Jillian had bid too. Since she didn't look at Katerina to confirm she'd dropped out, there was always the chance the woman had more money to add to the cashier's check.

If she wanted to know, she was going to have to look.
Damn it.
Her ear ached, and a barrier of sweat formed between her hand and the phone. She looked just as Katerina parted the crowd behind her and walked away from the stage.

Well, at least that part of the plan worked. She wished she felt more satisfied. But as long as other people were bidding, her main goal was at risk.

“Do I have eleven thousand dollars?”

Tanya inhaled and looked at Cam. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide. He looked stunned. Maybe he was disappointed Katerina's bid hadn't been enough. What a sucky thought. If he wanted Katerina to win, then Tanya was about to waste a hell of a lot of money. Maybe she should stop.

“Eleven thousand dollars going once.”

But their connection when he'd first stepped on stage had been so strong. He had to have felt it too. No way. She wasn't giving up. This wasn't only about interfering with Katerina's bid. It was about winning another chance at being with him. She wanted that chance. She gripped the paddle tighter and started to raise it again.

“Eleven grand!” Jillian yelled.

Shit.

People were actually moving closer and gathering around her now. She blocked them out and faked a conversation with the imaginary person on the phone. This was definitely the riskiest, most unrealistic thing she'd ever done.

“Eleven-five? Do I have eleven-five?”

Yep. He did, but that was all she had. Something had to give for her to win this thing.

She felt a hand on her back as she raised her paddle.

MJ stood beside her. “Finish it,” she whispered in her ear. “You have Tag's blessing.”

Blessings were good in moments like this, but blessed or not, she was still going to have to pay back the loan. How much would it take to “finish it”? She gnawed her bottom lip. Having that kind of decision-making power was overwhelming. There were grand gestures, and then there were bad decisions. She was walking a fine line, wasn't she? But one more look at Cam, and she raised her hand.

Twelve.

Twelve-five.

Thirteen.

Each increment heighted her anxiety. She needed an upper limit. She had to stop the insanity someplace. She might be willingly out on this limb, but eventually she'd have to answer to her usual sensibilities. If only the nut on the phone with Jillian would back the hell off.

But she didn't, and at fourteen grand, Tanya saw her chances dwindling. If she lost, maybe it wouldn't be a complete bust. After all, she'd have proven to herself just how far she was willing to go for him. Maybe that meant they did have what it would take to make a real relationship work.

At fourteen-five, MJ returned. “Give up,” she said. “I talked to Jillian, and you're never going to outbid her bidder.”

Disappointment mixed with relief. The woman on the phone with Jillian owed her father fifteen grand. They saved the gym.

Now she was going to have to figure out a less-flashy way to save her relationship with Cam.

• • •

Cam exhaled when Tanya lowered her arm and put away her phone. Straight up relief. Jillian had won. Which meant he'd won. Which meant Tanya had won too—but she didn't know it. She looked … sad. Her head hung as she moved through the crowd.

He needed to get to her. Impulse carried him off the make-shift stage. The minute his feet hit the ground, random hands pawed at his body. Dumb mistake. These women were juiced from the excitement of the auction.

“I wanted to win so bad,” said the woman hanging on his right arm.

He smiled, but his eyes were scanning the crowd.

“Me too! Me too!”

“Who won? Do you know who won?”

One of them grabbed his ass. He jumped. “Ladies, excuse me. I need to change.”

He fled despite their protests, but he didn't get far. More fans. More hands. He folded his own and guarded his junk. When he finally made it behind the curtains he smelled like a department store perfume counter, and he was wearing a couple scratches on his chest and God only knew how many lipstick prints on his face.

Tanya was nowhere to be found.

People started to make their way through the curtain, so he escaped to the hall. But it was only a matter of time before they infiltrated this space too. The men's locker room was the sole safe zone.

By the time he got there, the other bachelors had cleared out. Their robes and trunks were hung on a rack beside the door. He'd be glad to get rid of his getup too. This whole thing had been a lesson in what he did and didn't want. Screw the attention and adoration. He wanted those things from one woman and one woman only.

He grabbed his phone from his locker and called her.

She answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

“The locker room.”

“Oh. People are looking for you.”

“Yeah, well, I was looking for someone too.”

“Who?” The question came slow and quiet.

“You. We need to talk.”

Silence, and then a soft, “Okay.”

“How ‘bout now? Nobody's back here with me.”

“I'll be there soon.”

He changed. Part of him wanted to leave the trunks on and use his body to sway her opinions, but lately he wasn't feeling all that showy. A temporary lapse in confidence. If she said she loved him too, he'd happily get naked with her.

The door swung open. She walked in, but stayed on her side of the room.

“Hey,” he said.

She clutched the hem of her white blouse and smiled. “You were a fifteen-thousand-dollar hit. We raised a total of thirty-two-thousand dollars all efforts combined.”

“That's good.”

“It's great.” She rubbed her neck. “Thank you.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand.

“Let me get all of this out and then you can talk.” She inhaled. “All that stuff I said to you in the car about the feelings not mattering because we were going nowhere? That was bullshit.”

She was telling him.

She inhaled again, and he smiled. God, he loved everything about her.

“I was the bidder on the phone,” she said. “I mean nobody was on the phone, because I was the bidder. I pretended to have a telephone bid.”

Holy shit.
That explained her reaction to losing.

“I wanted to outbid Katerina.” She looked at the ground.

“Tanya, I'm not
with
Katerina,” he said. “I haven't been
with
Katerina. I'm glad she didn't win.”

She looked at him. “I sort of figured, but I worried she'd get to spend that weekend in Boston with you and things would change.”

Fat chance. He would've spent that weekend wishing Katerina had been Tanya. “What if you spent the weekend in Boston with me?” he asked. “Would things change then?”

Her head tipped and her eyes narrowed. “I don't know. I'm not sure what you're saying.”

“I'm saying I was the winning bidder. Jillian was bidding for me. I won because I want to be with you.” If he'd had any reason to believe she'd say yes, he would've dropped to one knee. “Tanya Mary Martin, I love you.”

• • •

The words hit Tanya like a cornerback with a vendetta, and her body swayed from the blow. Blindsided in the best way possible.

“I love you too.” Her voice was so weak she wasn't sure she'd said it out loud.

But then he smiled liked he'd been named MVP all over again, and she knew he'd heard her.

“Then come to Boston with me,” he said.

That damn realistic streak blew hot air all over her happiness.
You don't belong in Boston. That's why this will never work.

“I can't leave my team,” she said.