Page 39 of Highest Bidder
I sigh and walk around the truck to my door. Gertrude roars to life once I turn the key. “How does Chipotle sound?”
“God, you never have to ask. Chipotle always sounds good.”
I nod and without thinking twice, I reach over and hold Hunter’s hand while pulling out of the parking lot, half expecting her to pull her hand away, and half hoping she’d never let go. My stomach flips when she doesn’t let go and only gives me a light squeeze. I want to pump my arm in the air, but I just sit and enjoy the feel of her hand in mine. I casually trace little circles on the inside of her wrist with my thumb, feeling like I’m flying high.
Friday morning,I wake to my phone pinging. Rubbing the sleep from my eye, I blink to help focus my vision.
Hunter:
Good morning. I wanted to let you know that Jess and I are sick. We went to urgent care and tested positive for strep.
My heart sinks. I was hoping to take her horseback riding. Strep is one of the worst sicknesses for an auctioneer. I prop myself up in bed with my pillow and text her back.
Myles:
Fuck. That sucks. Do you need anything?
Hunter:
No, we got the medications we need from the doctor, and we had food delivered to the house. Thank you. It’s been hurting so much to talk. The doctor said I need to limit talking for a few days if I want to heal faster. I hope to be back to work by Wednesday.
I rub my face with my hands and groan. This is going to suck.
Myles:
I won’t lie. I hate this, but I want you to get better.
Hunter:
Believe me, I hate it too. You need to keep your distance. I don’t want you getting it too. I’m going to take a nap. I’ll text you later.
Myles:
Okay. Sleep well.
Wednesday finally rolls around.I swear, the past five days have been the longest of my life. Since Hunter had been so sick, her doctor was nervous about her going back to work. He had her go in this morning for a last check, to make sure her throat was okay. Her throat hadclosed so much that she had to get steroids, and even then, the raspiness remained. The doctor was afraid she would relapse and get a worse case of it. My days were filled with waiting for her next text and going to JT’s farm. Thankfully, she texted me saying she got the all-clear from the doctor and would see me at the second sale in Orlando.
I walk in with her favorite coffee in hand and some Reese’s peanut butter cups. I know she’s standing on the lanes, waiting for the meeting to start. I tune out the side conversations around me as I pass through the office. My eyes only see the doors that lead to the lanes.
Swinging the door open, I see my girl. She’s standing with her back to me, her weight on one foot, making that hip amplified in her dark denim blue jeans and black polo shirt. Jess is standing in front of her. I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and never let go, but I’m not sure that’s appropriate while we’re at work. How I’m going to make it through a whole day without enveloping her in a hug, I’m not sure. I pick up my pace until I’m standing behind her. There’s only an inch or two of space between us.
Leaning toward her ear, I whisper, “Hey, Hershey.”
Hunter spins around, and her eyes light up. She reaches to hug me but pauses to look around. My heart races as hope flares in my body, thinking I won’t have to wait all day to get my first hug from her. Disappointment flashes across her face as she looks over my shoulder. I turn and see the GM walking forward to start our meeting. I have to physically hold up my shoulders at the sight.
I turn back and hand over her goodies. Her eyes meet mine as she mouths, “Thank you.”
I give her a small nod and bring my attention back to Marcella, the GM.
The sale is uneventful, and I can’t take my eyes off Hunter. JT snickers every time he catches me looking over at her. He enjoysworking with her too. She’s flawless at her job. There’s no way to deny that she’s an astonishing auctioneer.
Afterwards, I stand outside the auction, like I did last week, waiting for her to come out. So much has happened between us this past week. I am more smitten than ever, and she seems to like me back.
Hunter strolls outside. She spins around, finding me in the same spot, and her face lights up. Pushing myself off the wall, I walk toward her.
“Okay, before you say anything”—I put my finger up. She closes her mouth and folds her hands in front of her. “How’s”—I trail off when her phone goes off, making the most annoying sound known to man. She reaches into her back pocket to pull it out and sighs before silencing it.
Her eyes focus back on me. “How’s—?” Before I can answer, her phone blares again. She huffs, and her face morphs into agitation. “Hold on a second.”
