Page 25 of Wasted On You

“You got any tea?”

“I don’t know.”

She sidled up to the counter and claimed a high stool while he rooted through the cupboards. Eventually, he gave up and poured himself a coffee, mumbling as he did so. “I don’t know how you Americans start your day without a proper cuppa.” He looked over his shoulder. “Top up?” he asked.

She held out her mug, then added a small scoop of sugar after he’d filled it.

“What’s got you up and at ‘em this early on a Saturday?” Ivy was curious. It was barely nine in the morning.

“Bloody auction I got roped into.”

“Auction?” She sat back, puzzled.

His eyebrow shot up at that. “Millie Sue has this way, you know? I couldn’t say no.”

“What auction?”

He stared into his cup and sighed. “I’m being offered up like a slab of meat at some charity event in town tonight.” Ollie glanced up and nailed her with a no-nonsense look. “And you’re coming with me.”

“I…what?” She tried to hide her smile but, in the end, gave in and buckled over, laughing. The charity event had been on her radar. She just hadn’t realized it was this weekend. “You’re one of the bachelors up for auction?”

“Number eleven.”

Oliver Royce was tall and built like a Mack Truck. Heavily tattooed, his mouth had a habit of running salty. He was handsome, dangerously so, with the kind of edge that would appeal to a lot of the local women. But he wasn’t the kind of man to stand on a stage like a trained dog and wait while women fawned over him and tossed money at the charity for a chance to spend the night with him.

“How in hell did Millie Sue convince you to do this?”

“It’s that damn baby of hers. She handed him to me, and the little guy started to cry. I mean, I’m a bloody oaf, why wouldn’t he? Then she came at me with the auction stuff, and I couldn’t do anything but nod my head while trying to get the wee man to stop crying. After I said I’d do it, she took him back, and the little devil immediately stopped.” Ollie made a face. “I think she has him trained. I think the whole thing was planned.”

Ivy laughed. “That is totally possible.”

“You need to bid on me.”

“What?”

“I’ll give you the money.”

She had to work hard to keep a straight face. “You want to pay me to bid on you?”

He nodded and downed his coffee, then filled another cup to the brim. “Yes. I don’t have time to get tangled up with a woman right now.”

“You do know it’s a charity thing, right? The ladies know it’s not real. They bid on you. You take them out to dinner or?—”

“Drum lessons.”

“What’s that?”

“I said I’d do drum lessons.”

“I already know how to play the drums.”

Oliver set down his empty cup with a triumphant smile. “Exactly.”

“I’m engaged.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t think it would look good if I bid on you.”

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