Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Helen sat down in one of the chairs set up in front of the stage, to rest her feet and enjoy Josie and the bachelor auction. Mom and Bea stopped by, and Bea crawled up into her lap. Mom sat down beside her.
“Excuse me,” Alice muttered, squeezing past them to sit on the far side of Jonah. “God, my feet are killing me. Do any of these fire fighters give foot rubs?”
“No one is touching your feet but me,” Gabe said, leaning up from the empty seat behind his wife to kiss her neck. “Oh wow, you smell delicious.”
“Pulled pork. Which, for the record, was a total hit.”
Delia and Max sat down too.
Jonah walked by, and Alice moved over so he could sit next to Mom.
“Hey,” she said, kissing his cheek. “How is the money-running operation?”
“Do you want to know how much we’ve made so far?” he asked, eyebrows wiggling.
“One hundred thousand dollars,” Alice said, and Jonah turned wide eyes on her. “How did you guess?”
“I ran a restaurant for years—you get a feel for how much cash is going over the bar.”
“Are you serious?” Helen asked. Last year they’d made fifteen grand and called it a gigantic success.
Jonah nodded. “It’s because of Micah,” he said.
And she knew that.
“Hey, everyone in the audience, we have a treat for you,” Josie said and looked right out and winked at Helen. “A very special bachelor is here and he’s donating…” She looked behind her to someone off the side of the stage that was hidden by some of the crowd milling about. She put her hand over the mic but the crowd could still hear her say “What are you donating?”
She nodded and turned back to the mic.
“A private concert. Five songs. Your choice. Ladies and gentleman the last bachelor of the night—Micah Sullivan.”
Micah jumped up on the stage, arms in the air, still wearing Bea’s face paint.
Every time she’d seen him over the course of the last five hours, he’d been engaged. Signing autographs, shaking hands, at one point working a food station. The whole time with a glittery pink butterfly on his face. It was going to be all over social media.
She looked over at her family who were all staring at her.
What if you build something amazing and that’s the reward?
I love him. I love him and he loves me. And I have to just have faith that it’s enough. It felt in this moment surrounded by people she loved and something she’d built with her own hands, like more than enough. Like she couldn’t hold onto everything she felt. It was more than she’d ever felt in her life. More than she’d dreamt was possible to feel.
“We’re going to start the bidding with…” Josie looked a little lost. “I don’t know, a thousand dollars?”
It went fast. A thousand. Two. Five.
If she was going to make a move she needed to do it fast.
“Do you want to bid?” she asked her daughter.
“Yes!” She clapped.
“When I stand up, say ten thousand dollars. But you have to say it really loud.”
Bea nodded and Helen got to her feet.
“Ten thousand dollars,” Bea screamed and Helen’s ears rang.
On stage Micah turned, his eyes finding them in the crowd. And what she saw there was worth every risk. Of course, she would give him a second chance, because he was giving her one as well.
She smiled at him, the whole of her heart in her eyes.
He smiled back with the whole of his heart, too.
“Sold!” he shouted, and the crowd, realizing what was happening, started clapping.
“Go, Helen,” Mom said, pushing her butt. “Go up there.”
This was a little more public than she liked, but Micah was a public guy. And she was standing with her family at her back and the man she loved in front of her. Still carrying Bea she started walking up along the edge of the chairs, the crowd parting to let her through until finally she was on the edge of the stage.
Micah smiled down at her and lifted Bea up onto the stage and then held a hand out for Helen. It was only a foot off the ground, but she took his hand and was pulled up onto the stage and immediately into his arms.
“Thank you,” he said.
She leaned back, the tears she’d been blinking back rolling down her face. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he said with a butterfly her daughter had painted on his face.
“For taking my pain and turning it into something beautiful,” she said. And then she kissed him. She didn’t care about the crowd or her family watching. She didn’t even care about the face paint that was now going to be all over her.
She just cared about him.
“All right lovebirds,” Josie said. “As much as I love watching my cousin make out with a rock star, I believe we were promised a concert!”