Page 13 of Auctioned to the Cowboy

“Congratulations,” says the judge with a smile, closing his book with finality.

I’m aware of Tom and Angus exchanging glances behind us, probably making silent bets on how long before I bolt or Henry broods himself into a tornado.

“Thank you,” I muster, trying to regain my composure. “This means a lot to us.”

“Happy to help,” he responds, giving us a nod before gathering his things.

My mind is a whirlwind of what-ifs and maybes. Married. To Henry Sutton. A man who can charm a smile out of me even when clouds hang over his head. A man whose past is as tangled as mine.

“Let’s have lunch,” Henry says, his voice steady but eyes still holding a trace of that earlier electricity.

“Sounds perfect,” I agree, relief and an odd sense of contentment settling in.

As we move toward the promise of food and a semblance of normalcy, I can’t help thinking that, for the first time in my life, I’m exactly where I need to be.

I pivot on my heel, breaking the electric connection before I drown in it. My back to Henry and the judge, I inhale, trying to find the floor again under my feet. The room’s warmth wraps me up even before Ben’s arms do, pulling me into a fatherly embrace that smells faintly of tobacco and aftershave.

“Shay, darling, welcome to the family,” he murmurs.

I blink hard against the sudden moisture in my eyes. “Thank you, Ben,” I reply, voice thick with emotions I didn’t expect to feel today or ever.

Tom, all wide grin and wild black hair, thumps me on the back next. “You’re stuck with us now,” he teases, his laughter like an infectious melody.

“Seems I am.” I laugh, the sound surprisingly genuine even to my own ears. It’s strange, this warmth blooming in my chest, like I’ve been invited into something bigger than myself. Like I’m not alone anymore.

Angus, more reserved but no less sincere, offers a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes as he hugs me. “Glad to have you, Shay.”

“Thanks, Angus.” I nod, touched by their immediate acceptance. These men, strangers until ten days ago, have opened their lives to me in a way that’s surreal. It’s comforting and unnerving.

Henry clears his throat, stepping beside me with a glance at the judge. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends another shiver through me.

“Appreciate the offer,” the judge says, packing away the papers we both signed without a second thought, “but duty calls. Another couple awaits their Christmas miracle. Christmas brides,” he mutters under his breath as he heads toward the door, shaking his head with a wry chuckle.

“Christmas miracle indeed,” I murmur, the smile on my lips coming easier than it has in years. This whole situation isabsurd, yet somehow, it feels right. Or maybe I’m too caught up in the moment to think straight.

We migrate to the dining room, a space filled with the scent of roasting meat and herbs—a feast I prepared with more care than I’d like to admit. The long wooden table is laden with dishes, the culmination of a morning spent in the kitchen trying to distract myself from the enormity of what today represents.

As we take our seats, I catch Henry’s gaze lingering on me. Something unspoken passes between us, and the rest of the world fades away.

Ben stands, glass raised, the light catching the fine lines of experience etched into his face. “To Shay and Henry,” he says, his voice steady and warm. “May this unexpected journey be one of many blessings. You’re a part of our family now, and I couldn’t be happier for my boy and for us.”

The words hit harder than I expected, and I swallow the lump rising in my throat. A part of me wonders what it would have been like to have a father like Ben—steady, supportive, and kind. But I push the thought away, focusing on the warmth of the moment.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” Tom calls out, and we all echo the sentiment, lifting our glasses.

“New beginnings,” I whisper, allowing the words to settle over me like the dress of delicate satin I chose for today. For once, I don’t feel like I’m running from something. I’m running toward it.

My fingertips brush the fabric of my gown, a reminder of the choice I’ve made—not just for a dress but for a life. I’ve chosen a partnership with a man who might be capable of thawing thefrost I’ve kept around my heart. A partnership that’s already changing me, making me believe that home isn’t simply a place but where you make it, with people holding you close without asking why.

The clinking of glasses brings me back, and I meet Henry’s gaze across the table. A promise lingers in those gray eyes, a silent vow that speaks louder than the ones we exchanged earlier. I take a deep breath and return his look, allowing hope to edge out the fear.

“Thank you, Ben,” I say, my voice stronger now. “For everything.”

“Ah, don’t thank me.” Ben waves off my gratitude with a smile. “Thank fate, luck, or whatever brought you two together.”

“Desperation,” Tom quips, and we all burst into laughter, the tension dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

“Whatever it is,” I say, finding my place among these people who already feel like family, “I’m grateful for it.”

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