Page 93 of Holding Hope

“Brie!”

“What? Am I supposed to lie?”

Avalon crossed her arms, brow arched. “He’s twenty-seven.”

“Maybe he’s into older women,” Brie shot back with a wink before finally turning her attention to me. “Hey, Clarke.” She gave a tiny wave—then muttered “fuck that” and pulled me into a hug.

It startled me for half a second, but only half. I relaxed into her arms, returning the squeeze. Over her shoulder, Avalon’s face lit up with a smile that warmed something deep inside me.

“Aubrielle, hi.”

“Please, call me Brie,” she said as we stepped apart. “Aubrielle is so…formal. It’s what my mother calls me.”

I chuckled. Oversharing and chaotic charm—definitely a Kennedy family trait.

“Yes ma’am.”

Brie’s brows shot up, and she smirked at Avalon. “Yes ma’am? Ava, I see why you like her.”

Avalon’s face went crimson. She slapped her palms to her cheeks, but I could hear the laugh she tried to hide.

“When do you go home?” Avalon asked, her tone light but edged with something I recognized—nerves, maybe. Or the quiet dread of unexpected family chaos. I felt it too. With Melody getting worse and Colt’s wedding approaching, my parents were stretched thin. Another Kennedy whirlwind wasn’t exactly ideal timing.

Brie shrugged, glancing around the room before returning her gaze to us. “So eager to get rid of me already? And here I thought you’d want to spend some quality time with your favorite aunt.”

Avalon blushed again—and God, it was becoming my favorite thing about her. The way her cheeks flushed pink against her pale skin, the awkward flutter that followed. Calling her beautiful didn’t even scratch the surface.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting you,” Avalon said. “And I want to know what your plans are. There’s a rodeo this evening—will you be going?”

Brie’s face lit up with wicked delight. “Why is that even a question? If the rest of the cowboys are anything like those two in there—” she jerked her head toward the kitchen, where Colt and Ethan were loudly assembling sandwiches. “I might need to stick around a little longer.”

“I think you’ll appreciate the charity auction,” I said. “All the eligible bachelors of Opal Springs offer themselves up to the single women in town to raise money for a farmer in need. It’s great.”

Brie’s mouth formed a perfect O. I could practically see the gears turning. Colton wouldn’t be auctioned — not with Delia in the picture — but Ethan? He’d be fair game. With a little convincing.

“Is it just cowboys, or is it gender-inclusive?” Avalon asked, wiggling her brows at me.

Heat rushed to my face. I ducked my head, laughing. The auction was mostly men—tradition, safety, small-town expectations—but women weren’t forbidden. Just rare.

“Why?” I teased. “You want to place a bid on me?”

She shrugged, all faux innocence, though the mischief in her eyes gave her away. “Maybe I do.”

I didn’t tell her the truth—that she wouldn’t need an auction to make me hers. She wouldn’t need anything at all.

Because somewhere along the way, without either of us noticing, I had already become hers.

By three in the afternoon, Colton and I were loading the show ponies into the trailer. Ethan had already taken off with Avalon and Brie, claiming he wanted to “save them the best seats in the house,” though I had a strong suspicion he just wanted another excuse to flirt with the elder Kennedy woman.

Unlike Avalon, I didn’t disapprove. Ethan wasn’t exactly giving women his own age any attention, and twenty-seven to thirty-something wasn’t a huge gap. If anything, Brie seemed like the first person in a long time who could keep up with him.

“You didn’t hear me, did you?” Colton’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up from the tack in my hands.

“Sorry. No.”

He smiled under his mustache, a little too pleased with himself. “I think I’m going to propose to Delia tonight.”

I froze. Blinked. “Oh.”