Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Who even needs a car in a place like Spruce anyway, right?
“He doesn’t even have a bidding paddle!” points out my angry and gorgeous enemy.
TJ quickly slaps his own paddle into my palm. “He does now.”
I look down at the paddle, then at TJ. “You sure?” I mumble at him under my breath, and upon TJ urgently gesturing at me to put it up, I quickly right myself and lift the paddle. “I do, yes, I do!”
“This is horse shit,” mutters my opponent, crossing his fine, muscular arms across his broad, impressive chest—okay, I’ll stop.
“I think there’s an easy way to solve this,” announces Frankie, then he turns to Cole. “Let’s defer to our bachelor, shall we? Cole, my man … do you accept this new gentleman’s bid?”
Cole’s entire demeanor has calmed.
His eyes are locked upon mine.
The shine in his smile persists like a trophy on a shelf.
“Yes,” he says simply.
“Then that settles it!” Frankie gives Cole a hearty slap on the back as he faces the audience. “$1,367 stands as the current bid!”
The gorgeous man scowls, his eyes shining like pretty gems in the spotlight. Yes, even when he scowls, he’s gorgeous. Sorry, I said I’d stop; it’s just easier to oppose him when I describe him this way.
“$1,367 going once …” calls out Frankie.
I let out a breath. I can’t believe I put nearly half my savings on the line. My parents probably didn’t expect me to do this. They might even think this is all theatre. Wait until I tell them that I really did put my money on the line in order to—
“$1,500,” states the gorgeous man.
I swallow my tongue as I stare at him, my eyes widened.
Cole’s, too.
The whole audience crackles with gasps and murmurs as faces turn in every direction, shocked.
“$1,500!” confirms Frankie. “An … unexpected counter …!”
I grip the paddle tighter.
I guess I can cash in all my vacation days at the paper, too. Do I even have any to cash in? Can I pretend?
“$1,600,” I state, lifting the paddle.
“$1,700,” he fires back, scowling beautifully.
Okay, I guess I can go without food for a month, too. “$1,8—”
“$2,000,” my gorgeous adversary cuts me off, determined.
It’s now that I see his sister Mae express genuine concern, tugging on the sleeve of her brother’s shirt. She hisses something at him about money, but he shrugs her off, his bull horns locked on mine. He is determined to win at all costs.
To be fair, I already told myself the day I graduated that going to college was never in the picture for me, even though some of the money I was saving was intended to go toward tuition.
I can say goodbye to that dream for good.
I can do that for Cole.
“Three—” I choke as the paddle quivers in my shaky hand. My face clenches up. “Th-Three—” Then I lift the paddle. “$3,000!”
The gorgeous man’s jaw drops.
His breath escapes his strong and manly lungs like I literally just punched him in his muscular chest.
He did not think I would dare.
Neither did I.
But I did. I totally dared.
As I gaze up at the stage amid the audience excitedly talking and gawking at me—the strange person no one knows who shows up out of nowhere to steal away the auction—I find Cole’s eyes lost on mine, a look of complete bewilderment on his face.
I might have shocked him speechless, too.
Frankie, ever the showman, takes in the reactions from the crowd, then gazes out at me. He appears to have an idea. “Say … I think you’re starting to look mighty familiar to me.” He knows me. He literally knows who I am. He’s just playing to the audience. “I’d say … You don’t happen to be Noah Reed, do you? The young man whose life Cole Harding saved at the Spruce Spring Crafts Festival a few weeks ago that inspired this whole pageant?”
Mae’s brother pauses, his pretty eyes flickering with surprise, then he peers at me with a whole new show of incomprehension, awaiting my answer.
The tiny whispers and gawking seems to confirm that others in the audience recognize me somehow. Maybe from a tiny photo or two in one of our several articles. Or from other publications I don’t even know about in neighboring towns and cities.
I lower the paddle, then nod. “Yes. That’s … That’s me. Noah Reed. The guy Cole saved.”
A ripple of surprise rushes over the audience around me, once again astonishing me at the power I hold in my little words.
“Incredible,” sings Frankie with faux amazement. “And it all comes full circle, leading to this very point in time. What a … What a momentous occasion, am I right, guys?” he asks the audience with a stunned laugh. “I’m nearly in tears up here! Hey.” He turns to Cole and, with a cute and charming smile, wags his finger at him. “You hinted earlier tonight that there was more to this story, didn’t you? Mr. Doesn’t-Think-He’s-A-Hero?”