Page 16 of Off the Beaten Path

My smile widens, and under the warm, dim lights, I think I see his lips twitch. I feel that bare hint of a smile all the way down to my toes.

“There you are,” another voice comes from down the hall behind me, and I spin around to see Stevie walking toward us. “I thought you left.”

“No, I was back here necking with Holden.”

He sighs so heavily that I can feel it on the back of my neck, even with the two feet of space between us.

“Any good?” Stevie asks, not missing a beat.

I shrug. “Kind of out of practice, if you ask me.”

“We were not necking,” Holden says, his tone laced with exasperation.

I nod at Stevie. “Sorry, he’s not a fan of that word.”

“I’m leaving,” Holden says flatly, his shoulder brushing against mine as he moves down the tight hallway, not looking back at me.

“Use some ChapStick,” I yell after him. “It’ll make it better next time.”

He disappears around the corner, but I catch his hand holding up a middle finger in my direction, and my laughter echoes down the hall.

Stevie looks between me and where Holden just departed. “What just happened here?”

I can still feel the memory of his warmth, imagine the sharp line of his jaw and the intensity of his stare. My skin tingles in all the places his eyes touched, and there’s a lingering electricity in the air that has never been there before.

“I honestly don’t know.”

“I only have four guys signed up for the bachelor auction,” I whine to Myra and Melissa on Monday morning. They meet up at the local coffee shop, Smokey the Beans, every weekday morning and order black coffees that they get refilled for free while they sit here and gossip. If anyone needs to know anything in town, they know to come to Smokey’s before lunch.

Outside, chilly rain is pattering on the windows. The sky is gray and hazy, making the mountains barely visible. Inside, the coffee shop has been buzzing with customers seeking warmth in the form of hot beverages. The air smells of strong coffee and rich caramel, cinnamon, and peppermint.

I’ve been here all morning, hoping to rope single men into joining the auction but having very little luck. The auction has gotten a bit of a reputation for attracting…older women, and after the winning bid for every bachelor under thirty was made by women old enough to be the guys’ mothers—or grandmothers—last year, finding willing participants is tricky.

“Should I put an age limit on the bidders this year?”

Myra’s dark eyes blow wide. “Absolutely not. How else am I supposed to rope a dashing younger man into taking me out to dinner?”

I press a hand to my mouth to cover my smile.Thisis the reason I’m considering the age limit. It’s not fair that the rich old women of this town are monopolizing all the available men.

Switching tactics, I say, “Some of us would like to actually find someone.”

Melissa waves a hand. “Then go to a bar. Or church. You all have 364 other days a year to snatch up these men.”

But Myra is looking convicted. “Missy, maybe she’s right.”

“She’s absolutelynotright. I like having a younger man cut up my steak for me.”

It takes everything inside me not to lose it at that comment. If I do, I’ll lose all the traction I’ve gained.

“We had our time, Missy,” Myra says, patting Melissa’s hand. “These girls deserve a chance to see what this town has to offer. We can go to Asheville to find you a young man.”

Melissa looks between us, resignation in her green eyes. “Fine, we’ll tell the rest of theold womento quit bidding.”

The bell above the front door chimes, alerting us to a new customer. Myra’s and Melissa’s heads swivel in the direction of the door, catching Grey Sutton, Melissa’s nephew, walking in.

His eyes crinkle with his smile when he sees his aunt, and he turns to head toward the table instead of the front counter. “Hey, Aunt Missy,” he says, stooping to press a kiss to the top of her bottle red hair. “What kind of trouble are you getting into?”

She pats his hand, smiling up at him, but I don’t miss the mischievous glint that has entered her eyes. I only hope it’s focused on him and that she doesn’t have anything concerning me in mind.

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