“Don’t worry, I’m not looking for a relationship or anything,” I added quickly. “That’s why I thought this auction thing would work. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, that I’m desperate or clingy. This way—”

“I’m paid for my services,” he finished for me.

My mouth fell open and my heart began a double-time beat realizing I may have offended him. “I’d never—”

He laughed. “I’m messing with you.” Leaning in again, he looked left and right as if to ensure no one was nearby. “But if you were seeking additional services, I can deliver those too. On the house.”

I stared. And stared. And then blinked.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Your aunt didn’t have to buy me.”

“We talked about it,” I told him. “What I was going to do about the wedding. The fact that I wanted to bring someone. When I first heard about the bachelor auction, I thought buying a date would solve my problems. I’d been joking. Sort of. I didn’t think Aunt Jean was actually going to bid, although I should have known.”

Everyone underestimated Aunt Jean. Being the town librarian since the dawn of time, she was considered an old maid, a virgin with delicate sensibilities. If they only knew. She made me look like that. I wasn’t a virgin, but it had been so long, and not very good, that I might as well be.

“Like I said, you didn’t have to buy a date with me. You could have come by the bar and asked. I’d have said yes.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “There’s no way I could have asked you out. Ever.”

He cocked his head. “Why not? I’m not that bad, am I?”

Him? Bad? I studied him, perhaps a little too thoroughly, because I realized I’d been doing it for a long number of seconds. So of course, I flushed. Again. I licked my dry lips. “No. Not bad at all.”

Perhaps almost too good to be believable. My family would wonder how someone like me could snag a guy like Thatcher.

He leaned in. It seemed to be something he did, giving someone his complete attention and focus. “It’s really important that you take a date, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” I countered, impossible to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“Why?”

“Because my ex is going to be there,” I grumbled. I’d known this for months and it still sucked. “He’s… the best man.”

He winced, as if in sympathy. “Shit. I can see how that would make for a miserable time. You’re not over him?”

I huffed and crossed my arms. “Oh, I’m very over him. But… well, you’ll see next Sunday, if you say yes.”

I practically held my breath as I waited for him to give me his answer.