He nodded and led me out onto the stage, then picked up the microphone to be heard over the rowdy group of women. I gave a little wave and they clapped.

“Last up is Thatcher Manning. Let’s see if he can top his brothers’ high bids.”

“Ten dollars,” a woman from the back shouted.

Everyone laughed at the small amount and I offered a small bow.

The bidding slowly rose and I recognized a few of the women who’d called out.

“Seventy-five dollars.”

Everyone looked to the latest bidder who was at one of the round tables in the center of the room. Miss Turnbuckle. The elderly town librarian. Gray hair pulled back in a bun. White blouse beneath a pale blue cardigan. Reading glasses dangling by a chain.

Sawyer, Huck, and I had joked earlier in the week that she’d probably bid on one of us.

And she had. Me.

Inwardly, I sighed. There was going to be coffee. Idle chatting, although Miss Turnbuckle and I both had a love of reading and we could discuss books. Books. No happy ending, that was for fucking sure.

I felt a twinge of disappointment. Sawyer had carried a redhead over his shoulder, fireman style, from the auditorium. Huck had been bought by an old flame.

“Any other bids?” the reverend called.

No one spoke up. Only whispers and murmurs could be heard.

Of course no one was going to now. Who would ruin the older woman’s chance? I didn’t know if Miss Turnbuckle had bid on any of the other guys, but it seemed she’d let the other women have their turn at winning a bachelor. Now it was hers.

Me.

Actually, this was good. Fine. I didn’t need any kind of clingy woman thinking that buying me at a bachelor auction was going to be more than a date. I didn’t do attachments. Girlfriends. Long term.

A night of sweaty, energetic sex was one thing, but a relationship? Not a chance.

That wasn’t going to happen with Miss Turnbuckle.

The date would be simple. I’d pick her up at her door, take her for coffee, behave like the perfect gentleman and talk about the latest mystery bestseller and deliver her safely and happily back home.

I’d still give her a sly smile at the library whenever I went in, but she wouldn’t read into it or make assumptions.

“Going once.”

I could do this. A few hours and my good deed for the kids of The Bend would be done. I winked at the librarian, who narrowed her eyes seeing right through my charm. As usual.

“Twice… sold!” Reverend Abernathy called. “Thank you all for coming and supporting the youth center. For those who have upcoming dates with this fine group of bachelors, have fun.”

The ladies clapped at the reverend’s closing remarks.