First to Bid: A Bachelor Auction Romance (Unraveled Book 2) Read online

  I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t mean to stare, but the man’s body belonged on the pages of the graphic novels lining Arcadia’s shelves. I would’ve bet my rental house on the perfection of his body, but I’d had no idea just how wide his shoulders were or how his biceps bunched as he held a hanger in one hand and his white suit shirt in the other.

  “I’m warning you, bro, don’t you dare—” Wes cut off when he noticed Flynn’s alarmed stare. Wes spun around. “Tilly. Sorry we’re taking so long back here.”

  I tried to talk, but my mouth had turned dry. I licked my bottom lip, and my belly clenched when Flynn’s gaze darted to the motion. “Sorry.” I started backing out. Words bubbled over like they always did when I was nervous. “I just had a few questions. I’ll be missing some work, so I wanted to pack as efficiently as possible. How much food do I need to pack? Do you need my address so you can pick me up? How long of a drive—”

  “Yeah, um… Yeah. I can give you the details.” His gaze shifted to Wes, then back to me.

  Wes sidled past me. “I’d better see what Mara needs help with.”

  He left but I still stood in the doorway. It wasn’t like me to be speechless around Flynn, but except for the shock of seeing him the other day, we hadn’t seen each other for years.

  “Y-y-you’ll have to drive yourself. I can message you the directions and where I put the extra key.”

  My heart sank. “Oh…”

  Guilt flitted through his expression. “I’m working on a couple of major deals and might need to come back to the cities a couple of times.”

  Maybe I should come back, too, for a couple of my major clients for tutoring. I steeled my resolve. No, I deserved a darn vacation.

  “As for food, they have a few gas stations, but the cabin has a full-service kitchen, so bring whatever you like to eat. I don’t cook.”

  I barked out a laugh and he flinched. “If I didn’t cook, I would’ve starved long ago.” Clamping my mouth shut, I cursed myself for saying as much. I never talked about my childhood. Never. Long ago, I’d resolved to move forward and be the best Tilly Johnson I could be. To not bring up the past to remind myself how shitty I’d had it…then wonder what I’d done to deserve it.

  He swallowed and glanced at the shirt hanging in his hands, then at me. This awkwardness was weird. Flynn had always brought out my vibrancy, but then I wasn’t used to my grown woman of a body reacting so strongly to him.

  And, dang it, he was trying to undress. “I’ll wait outside.” Stalker much? I clarified, “To give you my number.”

  “N-no. I mean, no need. Here.” He shoved the hanger into his shirt and hung it up on a shelving unit with his tux jacket. My mouth watered as his muscles rippled with his movements. What did he do for a living again? When I’d seen him earlier in the week, he’d been wearing a suit and looking damn fine, but his body did not look like a desk jockey’s.

  He grabbed his phone from a shelf. “What’s your number?”

  I rattled if off with lightning speed. “When should I be there?”

  He shrugged, and I clocked the move like a hawk. Could he pretty please go shirtless all week?

  “Whenever. In the brochure, I said Sunday through Saturday.”

  We stared at each other for another moment. I couldn’t think of another question to save my life.

  If I stayed and leered at him any longer, he’d think I was creepy. “Well, okay. See you…soon.” I gave him a small wave and he returned it with one I’d describe as cautious. Was he worried he’d stutter again if he spoke?

  As I bounced out, I couldn’t help my small smile. I’d contact my clients about my last-minute plans. Most of them had canceled earlier for the beginning of summer vacations anyway. Then I’d be free to get to know the real Flynn Halstengard.

  Chapter 3

  Tilly

  The pounding on my walls woke me up way too early for a Saturday morning. Not since I’d quit working serving jobs at twenty-four-hour diners had I been up so early on a weekend.

  More pounding and a screeching noise invaded my dreams. I frowned. Was that a screwdriver?

  Rolling out of bed, I grabbed a shirt and shorts from the floor to toss over the tank and undies I slept in. I padded out to my living room. Shadows moved across my drapes.

  I peeked out, trying not to be noticed. Two men wearing tool belts had already set up scaffolding and were tearing away the siding at the corner of the house. A radio blared classic rock.

  What the…

  When I stepped out onto the landing, one of the guys noticed me. “Morning.”

  “Yes, it is. On a weekend. What are you guys doing here?” I kept my tone pleasant, but seriously. On a weekend?

  “Sorry about that. We don’t usually work Saturdays, but we’re catching up on last year’s hailstorm claims.”

  “Oh, my landlady didn’t mention anything.” My sweet old landlady had probably forgotten like she’d forgotten to mention when the lawn was getting treated, or when she’d let go of the snow-removal guys and I’d had to shovel my way out.

  “We waited until nine to start. Did we wake you?”

  It was after nine? Wow, I’d been out late, then had stayed up another two hours to pack because I’d been too wound up to sleep.

  “No. It’s no problem. I’m leaving town anyway.” I went back inside and shut the door. I wasn’t supposed to leave until tomorrow.

  The pounding resumed and the radio blared. I puttered around my kitchen, preparing breakfast. The men resumed shouting instructions back and forth to each other.

  Technically, today was part of my vacation. This wasn’t relaxing. Once upon a time, the shouts of the men would’ve sent my heart racing. I would’ve fled the house and probably forgotten my keys and my purse.

  Thanks to the adult resource center, though, I didn’t feel the need to run today. I’d gotten more than my life back. They’d helped keep the experiences of my youth from haunting my days as an adult. And I’d finally gotten to pay them back.

  But just because I didn’t have to leave didn’t mean I wanted to stay. If only I was at the cabin already. I’d planned a relaxing day at home, working the flower beds for Mrs. Blumenthal, my landlady.

  I peeked out the window. Extension cords covered the lawn.

  Damn. Now what? I had no money to go shopping. No cable TV. And it was too beautiful outside to watch movies all day.

  My phone pinged from the bedroom. I rushed to check it, then grinned. Flynn. He just identified himself and gave me directions to the cabin. Aw, he’d even sent a picture of the place. The spare key was in the planter on the far right of the porch.

  My lips quirked. Real original, Halstengard.

  He’d said he had the cabin the whole weekend. Would he know if I went there a day early? It was either that or hang out at the library all day. I might as well grab some groceries and head there today.

  I ran through the shower and braided my hair while it was still wet. Then I tossed a few last-minute toiletries into my luggage and zipped it up. Next, I tackled the food. Digging out a cooler, I calculated what I could bring with and what in my fridge would spoil in a week. All produce went into a tote bag, but I’d still need to stop at the grocery store.

  I was loaded up and almost out the door when I groaned. “Mrs. Woods.”

  Dropping everything, I dug my phone out of my purse and dialed her first. Get the worst over with. The other two clients I had to notify would be completely understanding, had actually bugged me about taking a break.

  Berta answered.

  “Hey, it’s Tilly. Is Mrs. Woods around?”

  “It’s your unlucky day. She just left Charlie’s room, sobbing.” Berta put me on hold.

  My heart twisted. Poor Charlie. Maybe I should come back just to tutor him. It’d be more than a four-hour round trip, but…he would be stuck with his mother and a dubious nanny otherwise.

  “Miss Johnson.” Mrs. Woods sounded cool and collected.

  “Mrs. Wood
s, I’ve had…something personal come up.” It was a risk, not being honest, but my intuition screamed that Mrs. Woods wouldn’t be supportive if she knew it was a vacation. “I have to cancel tutoring for the week. I apologize and can double up sessions next week if that works for you.”

  My employer sniffed. “How disappointing, Miss Johnson. You call on the weekend to cancel with so little notice?” She sighed as snidely as possible. “These things are to be expected—from you, I suppose.”

  What a hag. What had Mrs. Woods gone through to make her such an ugly person to those she felt were beneath her?

  For the hundredth time, I had to remind myself that as long as Mrs. Woods paid me, it wasn’t my concern. And I’d grown attached to Charlie. I’d put up with a lot for him.

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Mmm.” Mrs. Woods hung up.

  I blew out a relieved breath. I made the other two calls quickly and grabbed my bags. I had new experiences all the time—out of necessity, to get away from a bad situation, or to better my life. But now, for the first time, I was embarking on an adventure without trepidation dogging my steps.

  Flynn

  I rolled my neck. I’d finally reached the small resort town by Lake Webber. A few more winding miles and I’d be at the cabin.

  My stomach rumbled. I’d skipped lunch, thinking I didn’t need it because I hadn’t worked out. I’d skipped my normal run and lifting but had stopped in on a job site before leaving town.

  The job site was the reason I’d left town a day early. The project manager had walked in to find me manning the Bobcat and pushing dirt around the foundation.

  Since I was the boss, the manager had held his temper in check, but he’d commented, “If you do all the work on the weekend, how am I supposed to keep my crew working to earn a paycheck all week?” Insinuating that I got paid, and paid well, no matter what. Reminding me of when I’d been living paycheck to paycheck myself.

  I draped a hand over the wheel. The gorgeous countryside full of leafy, green trees and rolling hills calmed me slightly. I would’ve felt better if I had anything to do at the cabin when I got there, but I’d purchased a new one. There’d been a rundown lake home also for sale at this same lake, but I had an aversion to living in a shithole.

  But on weekends like this, when there was no work for me, I could see the appeal. I wasn’t a kid anymore, and I had the time and money to work on…anything, but it was the smell. The musty, sour smell of a home that had water damage, infestations, and stains on the walls and ceilings. As soon as I stepped foot in a building that’d been neglected, I traveled back in time until I was a powerless kid who could do nothing about my situation. Maybe if I’d grown into a man who had rectified certain things about my past, it wouldn’t affect me as much. But there was still one person I’d failed, one person I still let down every damn day.

  Blinking away my fatigue from a restless, anxiety-filled night and a morning of getting booted off my own job site, I took the last turn to my new cabin. I let the stress drain away and tried not to remember that I’d be dunked into emotional turmoil the next day when Tulip arrived. Would she dress as pretty—normal! Not pretty. Would she dress as normal as she had last night? She’d still stuck out, dressed down for once, but I’d never noticed how silky her hair looked, probably because it was always in frizzy ponytails or swirling around her head as if she hadn’t ever met the business end of a brush. But that had been over ten years ago.

  I was letting out a weary sigh when the cabin came into view, along with a dark sedan parked outside the garage.

  What have we here?

  My heart skipped. Could Tulip be here already? No. No, that’d be ridiculous even for her.

  Then again, this was Crazy J.

  I parked my truck off to the side but didn’t pull into the garage. In case this was an intruder or a squatter, I didn’t want to alert them any more than the rumble of my diesel already had.

  I slipped out of the driver’s seat, leaving my bag in the cab until I got to the bottom of my mystery guest. I clicked my door shut and crept around the attached garage to the back of the cabin. I peeked in the window of the breezeway but saw nothing move. I inched open the door so it wouldn’t squeak and stepped inside. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I craned my neck toward the front door. A neon-pink tote bag that could probably light the dark lake nights sat on the floor.

  College kids. Don’t they have their own resorts to party at? I must be getting old if the idea of a hot coed invading my getaway didn’t rev my libido.

  Since I was a tall man, I crouched as much as I could and tiptoed into the house, thankful I was back in Nikes instead of steel-toed work boots. Soft humming came from the kitchen. A female. Nice voice.

  I straightened. A guy like me could take on female squatters and any men they brought with them. This was probably only a couple who had gotten the wrong home.

  But how had they gotten in? By jimmying the locks?

  I clenched my jaw and ignored the thrill that I might have something to do, like replacing the knobs. Was it possible they’d trashed the bedroom and I’d have to replace the floors or something?

  The humming grew until a few words became clear. Whoever it was had a pleasant voice. Hopefully, she hadn’t brought a male friend.

  I entered the kitchen, my steps silent. I circled the fridge’s open French doors.

  A rounded ass stuck out from the opening and I grinned. What a sight. The woman kept singing and I took a moment to sweep my gaze from her ass down her long, shapely legs. Yasss… The curve of her bare back stretched my grin. Narrow straps from her bikini top hung down as she stood up and turned around.

  Tulip shrieked and jumped back into the fridge.

  I yelped and leaped backward. The backs of my legs hit the island and I almost rebounded into her. But I clutched the countertop behind me to steady myself.

  Jars in the fridge tinkled from Tulip’s impact. She gasped and spun around to steady everything. The twist in her torso drew my attention to the definition in her abs and the sleek lines of her back.

  When she turned back around, I couldn’t take my gaze off the Bat-Signal emblazoned across her ample breasts.

  Tulip was stacked.

  “T-Tulip, w-what—” I winced and dragged in a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

  Guilt crossed her expression and she wrung her hands. “Can you never call me Tulip? Never ever?”

  “Why?”

  Her gaze darted to the wall and back before her expression screwed into mild disgust. “Lots of reasons. But just Tilly. Please.”

  “Okay.” I stared at her. Wanted her to turn around and stick her ass out again. Wanted my hand to quit twitching to cup her cheeks.

  She backed away from the fridge so the doors could close. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think you’d be here until tomorrow and there were guys at my place and I’ve never been on vacation.”

  “Wait, there are men at your place?” Why did that send a surge of jealousy through my system? As if she’d been pining away for me and shunning all others for the last eleven years.

  “A few. They’re repairing hail damage, I guess. My landlady forgot to mention it like she forgets everything else. There was nothing else to do, I mean, in my price range, which is the library.” She clamped her mouth shut as if she’d said too much.

  She came a day early because of nothing to do, and I came a day early for the same reason. I never would’ve thought we had anything in common.

  That Batman swimsuit top, though… What’d the bottoms look like? With her ass, she’d give that damn bat wings.

  “Are you hungry?” she blurted. I flinched. Her volume had risen a few notches.

  Was she nervous?

  No, not Crazy J. She was oblivious to other people—especially what she did to me.

  I drew in another calming breath, a technique Abe, my mentor, and savior, had taught me.

  My stomach rumbled and she giggled. An ho
nest to God giggle. Somehow, her threat factor diminished enough that I allowed a small smile. “I missed lunch.”

  “Oh!” She swiveled around and ripped open the fridge door. “I picked up stuff for sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but I had some bread to use up or it’d be moldy by the time I got home.”

  I finally glanced around the kitchen. It was littered with gaudy tote bags. Her Wonder Woman tote sat on the counter beside the fridge, where it’d been blocked by the fridge doors a moment ago.

  Crazy J came a day early but was making me food. So…this whole thing could be worse. She was closer to normal right now than I’d ever experienced from her before.

  Her backside lured my gaze again. Her cloth shorts outlined her form perfectly and while they were black, the outline of her swim bottoms and the yellow from the Batman design were visible.

  “Were you going swimming?” I blurted. Great, I was picking up her habits.

  She pulled away from the fridge with an armload of food and shouldered the door shut. The meager gentleman within me that Abe had managed to save rushed to gather some of the items. Mustard, mayo, ketchup, butter. Hell, was there anything this woman hadn’t packed?

  I assessed everything she scattered on the table. Most of it had been opened already.

  “Why didn’t you just buy everything here? You didn’t have to bring it all.” I would’ve gone on a food run within an hour after I’d arrived. Could I consider this the first time a woman had bought me a meal?

  “A week’s worth of groceries when I already had the food? I might be wearing a Batman swimsuit, but I’m not Bruce Wayne.”

  But she’d spent ten grand to be here? A couple hundred in groceries shouldn’t worry her.

  She pulled out bread and lunch meat and—I hadn’t eaten fucking processed meat in years. I’d lose at least two of my eight abs as soon as that hit my tongue.

  But my stomach insisted it was fine with whatever she was serving. I pulled out a stool and watched in fascination as she prepped our meal.