Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
They all seem to be in their early to mid twenties. All beautiful, but with a girl next door kind of look to them.
I stare at them for a long while, imagining the billionaires looking at them and wanting them to be their brides so badly they’d bid millions of dollars.
Now that would be an adventure. Marrying a billionaire and traveling around the world. Seeing the planet and meeting interesting people.
Wow…
I slip the invitation into the drawer, shake my head, and try to continue reading my book, but I quickly find that thinking about anything but that auction is impossible.
For the rest of the morning, I keep pulling it out, staring at the girls, and picturing my photo there. Would anyone bid on me?
I keep dreaming about a gorgeous man charging forward, not letting anyone outbid him for the pleasure of having me as his wife because with one look, he was obsessed.
He would whisk me off into his exciting world and I wouldn’t care about the money because I’d be falling in love with that beautiful smile and the possessive way he looks at me.
We could start a family, have children, spend the rest of our thrilling lives in one adventure after another.
I trace my tingling fingertip over the embossed phone number as Harold shuffles back into the room, holding his lunch in a brown paper bag.
“What’s for lunch, Harold?” I ask even though he’s had the same tuna on white bread, no crusts, and four Ritz crackers for the past five years.
“Tuna on white bread, no crusts, with four Ritz crackers.”
He shuffles past me without asking what I’m having.
I sigh as I stare at the number.
“Screw it,” I whisper. I dial the number and then suck in a breath. My heart races as it rings.
“The Breeding Bidders Auction House,” a woman on the other line says. “How may I help you?”
I open my mouth as I stare at the desk with wide eyes. Nothing comes out.
“Hello? How did you get this number?”
“From a friend!” I blurt out.
“And what is it concerning?”
I take a deep breath as I stare forward, wondering if I should take the plunge. If I should throw caution to the wind and turn my life upside down.
I have to make a change sometime. It’s never going to feel like it’s the right time. It’s never going to feel easy.
Sometimes in life, you have to play the cards you’re delt, but sometimes you have to flip the damn table over to shake things up.
“Miss, what is this concerning?”
“The auction!” I say with adrenaline rushing through my veins. “I’d like to be auctioned off!”
Chapter Two
Elias
I storm over to Novak’s trailer with an unstoppable rage ripping through my tense body. I’ve had enough of this motherfucker.
He’s been pushing my buttons all goddamn summer, buying up all the forested land around my ranch and polluting the shit out of it with his fracking company.
I’ve been wanting to let my Kodiak maul this bastard, but I’ve always held the furry beast back. Until now.
This morning, when my bear was roaming through the forest on my land that my father owned and my grandfather before him, I found a team of engineers planning where they’re going to start drilling.
I nearly lost it. I scared them pretty good with my bear though. They won’t be back for a while.
This billionaire asshole thinks he can do whatever he wants because he’s willing to throw around some cash. Well, my land is not for sale. It’s staying in my family and if I’m lucky enough to find my mate and have some cubs one day, I’ll hand it over to them when the time comes, and I’ll make damn sure the property is in pristine shape.
“Novak,” I roar as I yank open the flimsy door. I march into his trailer and find him sitting behind his desk.
“Mr. Gatlin,” he says with a grin on his face. “Have you come to make a deal?”
Even my Kodiak bear hates this guy. He’s pacing around angrily inside, snarling and snapping his big jaws at the rank smell of cigar that’s always following this asshole around. He’s an old, out of shape man at around sixty five years if I had to guess. Barely a hint of hair on his bald head and several thick rolls of skin on the back of his neck. A small pair of glasses are perched on his big bulbous nose.
This town—Clarington Springs—was such a beautiful place before he moved in with his huge machinery that I can hear roaring all the way to my ranch. He’s cut down thousands of trees, ripped up the beautiful land, and polluted at least two rivers.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” I say through gritted teeth as I march over and slam my fists on his desk. The cheap wood groans under my knuckles. He leans back in his chair with a cocky smile as I lean forward.