Highest Bidder

15. Myles

15

MYLES

My eyes are glued to her curvy ass as she jumps into her Bronco and backs out of the parking space. Standing here like a love-struck teenager, I can’t help feeling lighter than I did this morning. Everything about Hunter draws me in. Her laughter when she talks about her nights with Jess, filled with a lot of chocolate. Her lips as they tug upward and her eyes cast down when I say something a little forward. Her determination to succeed because failing has never crossed her mind. Then there is her perfect body that could bring any grown man to his knees, but she doesn’t even realize the power she wields.

I jump into my truck when she turns onto the main road. I crank my truck on the first try. “Atta girl, Gertrude.” I really have to get the engine looked at. It’s like a catch twenty-two if she will crank. I can’t count how many times I’ve called JT to come pick me up because she wouldn’t turn over. But that’s the cost of owning a vintage truck.

Leaning on one hip, I get my phone out of my pocket and call JT. I back out and turn in the direction of my house and wait for him to answer.

“Hey, man. How did lunch go?” JT asks casually. “Does she still hate your guts? Oh, please tell me she threw your drink in your face.” His booming laughter rattles my ear.

“Shut up.” I laugh, turning onto another street.

He chuckles.

“Do you have Hunter’s number?” Part of me hopes he does and the other part hopes he doesn’t because why would JT have her number unless he’s trying to flirt with her?

“Nope.”

I let out a slow exhale of relief. “Well, what about Jess?”

“Uh. Why?”

I don’t miss the way his voice drops all hints of playfulness at the mention of Jess’ name. Interesting.

“I want to ask her out.” I pause and when he stays silent, I smirk. “Bro, seriously, what do you think I want her number for? I need to get Hunter’s.”

His laugh rings through my ears. “She didn’t give it to you?”

“Well, it kinda slipped my mind until she drove away.” I thrum my fingers on the steering wheel.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. Don’t be disappointed if she’d rather get my number. I’m prettier.”

I lift my eyes as if looking to the heavens will help me figure out why I’m getting punished. It’s probably something I did in a past life. “Why am I friends with you?” I tease.

“Ah, you love me.”

I shake my head. “Will you just get me her number?”

“Anything for you my brother. I just can’t promise I won’t use it first.”

“Text me when you have it.”

“Righty-o.”

I laugh as I end the call. He can be so weird. I pull into my driveway. It’s a small house, but there’s not much I need besides a place to sleep, eat, and watch TV. It’s perfect for me. And my favorite thing—it’s on a lake. So between JT and me, we have everything we need. He has horses with some wooded trails leading to a creek, and I have a lake with a boat. We spend most of our days off on the lake in the summer. I need to schedule another boat day. I always thought the bachelor life was for me until Hunter. Now I can imagine her on the boat, adding so much life to our group. I walk into my house and jump in the shower.

Water runs down my face while I stand under the stream and images of Hunter flood my head. The girl with large green eyes and curly brown hair that almost reaches her butt. I want to reach around and grab the back of her neck and rake my fingers into her hair, giving it a little tug, I’d bring that face up to expose that gorgeous neck. I’d wrap my other arm around her body, pressing her firmly against me. I can almost feel her against me as the water rushes down my body. My cock throbs, and I know picturing her like this is too much to handle. Fuck. My hand wraps around my length, and I stroke to the fantasy of her. I think about burying my face in her neck while I kiss my way to her sassy mouth. I slap my palm against the tile in the shower to brace myself. Images of her looking up at me through her thick lashes as she slowly kneels down in front of me, flicker through my mind. I throw my head back and groan. Her tongue drags across her lips before licking the bead of pre-cum off the tip. All I can think about is grabbing a fistful of her long hair as she brings my shaft deep inside her mouth. I find my release in no time, thinking of hitting the back of her throat and hearing her gag. My heart slams against my ribcage, as I take a minute to catch my breath. Fuck, if just imagining her gets me this worked up, the real thing might actually kill me.

After the shower, my shoulders are less tense. Today’s sale may be my favorite, but it’s always the longest. So I never leave without a little soreness. I wrap a towel around my waist and stretch my neck back and forth to alleviate any leftover knots. Leaving the bathroom, I head to the kitchen to heat some leftover Chinese food. The microwave dings at the same time a text chimes through my phone. I grab my food and lift a large forkful into my mouth. It’s hot, forcing me to blow out a burst of air as I toss it around inside my mouth until it cools. After swallowing, I pick up my phone. It’s JT.

JT:

Am I good or am I good?

“Shared Hunter Smith’s contact”

Myles:

It’s why I keep you around.

Going into the living room, I put my food on the coffee table and sit on the couch across from the TV. I save her number in my phone and open a new thread to text her. My thumbs hover over the screen as I think of what to say. I’ve never felt the pull toward a woman like I do with her, and now that I’ve surrendered to it, I feel desperate. Everyone says you’ll know when you find someone you want to be with. I’ve always loved my job, and the thrill of the auction is addicting. But doing it with her makes it that much better.

She looked beautiful today, pushing against a stubborn cow’s side, trying to get it to move. And her wild hair, it makes me want to run my fingers through it, grabbing a handful while I kiss those perfect, full lips. I couldn’t take my eyes off her the whole time we were at the restaurant.

Myles:

Hey. It’s Myles. I may have gotten JT to get your number for me.

I click send and wait. I tap my phone against my palm. I don’t know if she will respond right away, but my heart rate picks up at the possibility. I put down my phone and finish eating. As I reach for the remote, my phone vibrates, and I toss the remote to grab my phone.

Hunter:

Wow. Stalker much?

I chuckle.

Myles:

Borderline. At least I don’t know where you live yet. But I’m sure JT can find out that little tidbit too.

Hunter:

Should I be afraid he has that much power?

I smile as I lean back on the cushions.

Myles:

I definitely think someone should at least break his nose just to make the playing field more even. No one should be that good-looking. He can ask someone for the most personal information, and all he has to do is smile for them to fork it over.

I smirk at the thought. I remember a time growing up when he asked a teacher about a book we were supposed to read. He hadn’t read it, but he smiled and the teacher just thought he was interested in the book to provide feedback and wanted to discuss it. I sat with my head buried in my textbook, laughing my ass off while he got the answers he needed.

Hunter:

I don’t know what to say to that.

Myles:

You should see what his smile does to my mama. She’s obsessed with him.

Hunter:

Jess says you two must have been popular in school.

I chuckle at how wrong she is and rub my fingers through my damp hair. I wasn’t hated in school, but I definitely wasn’t popular. JT was the only person I hung out with.

I press on her contact information and click on her number. Bringing the phone to my ear, I hear it ringing and then her voice comes through the earpiece.

“Hello?”

“I was not popular.”

“I find that very hard to believe. You may keep to yourself, but everyone at work speaks highly of you.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh, I did, too. Don’t worry.”

Her laughter echoing through my ear brings a smile to my face. It has to be one of the most beautiful sounds. “What about you? Were you popular?”

“Ahh,” she moans. “I guess I was, but I didn’t think so.”

“Okay.” I chuckle. “What are we talking? Prom queen or head cheerleader?”

“I don’t really want to answer that.”

“You were both. Holy shit.” I lean forward, pressing the phone harder to my ear. I can’t believe I hit the nail on the head. “Damn, so all the guys wanted you and probably some girls too.”

She snorts. “Oh my god. You’re unbelievable.”

“I know. It’s hard to be so unbelievably handsome.” I lean back into my couch, putting my arm behind my head to lie against. “I mean, you are gorgeous, so I think you can relate,” I say. “But what the hell was that sound you just made? I bet no one knew you made those sounds when they voted for you. Prom queens don’t snort.” I can’t slap the smile off my face listening to her consistent laughter coming through the phone .

“I just can’t with you right now.” She sighs. “So you weren’t Mr. Footballer?”

“Oh, no!” I laugh. “I worked all through high school. So I didn’t have time for extracurricular activities.”

“Why did you work so much, and where did you work?”

I can hear the excitement in her voice from that little tidbit. She wants to know more about me. It’s sweet, but I have a hard time talking about that period of my life. It wasn’t an easy time.

“My mom raised me by herself, and we needed any extra money I could bring in. I worked at a restaurant called Ramshackles as a busboy, and I also worked at the local skating rink.”

“Oh, I’m sorry you had to do that. What is Ramshackles?”

The fact that she doesn’t pry further makes my heartbeat slow to a normal rhythm. I don’t want to talk about my childhood, or worse, my deadbeat father. But I’m in no rush to stop talking to her. It’s a feeling I’m not used to. I usually only talk to my mom on the phone, and that’s a completely different type of conversation.

“I’ll have to take you some time. They have some of the best chicken wings.” Man, now I’m craving some. “It’s a pretty chill place, and they have their menus printed on newspaper. It’s a whole thing.”

“Are they still open?”

“Oh, yeah. It will be a sad day if that place ever closes. It was the place to go when I was in school. On senior skip day, we all had lunch there. I worked that day to pick up extra hours since it was a day off for us, but my boss let me eat with my class when they showed up.” There is something about Hunter that makes her easy to talk to. She already knows way more about me than most people I come in contact with.

“That was nice of him. What’s your mom like?”

I shake my head. How do you describe that woman?

“She is the loudest, most intrusive person you will ever meet. If she wants something, there is no holding her back. If she sniffs out something she doesn’t know, she won’t let you rest until all your secrets are for her to keep, and I mean ALL .” I laugh again. “She is also the kindest woman with the best hugs. She would love you.”

“She sounds like a wonderful lady. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

Hunter wanting to meet my mom warms my chest.

“So how was your day?” I always thought these types of questions were cheesy, but I guess I hadn’t met a person that I was interested enough in to want to know their answer.

“It was great.” I hear her happy sigh come through the phone. “I love cattle auctions. It reminds me of home.”

This piques my interest. Most women hate dealing with cows or getting dirty with all the cow poop around. At least, the women that I’ve been around.

“Because of your dad?” I ask, looking up at the living room ceiling and watching the fan spin in circles.

“Kind of. They are also where I got started.” She gives a small laugh.

Stretching my legs out, I go to put them on the coffee table, but I'm still only wearing a fucking towel. I walk to my room and get joggers, boxers, and a T-shirt.

“My dad used to take me to work with him when I was little,” she explains. “I would sit and listen to him. A lot of the buyers would let me bid on the cows for them. It was kind of like a second home for me. It’s also where I became an auctioneer.”

I put her on speaker while pulling on my clothes. “Sounds like fun and some special times with your dad. Are you two close?” I ask.

“Yes, we are, but…” she pauses. “What are you doing? You sound far away.”

“Oh, sorry.” I finish pulling the shirt over my head. “I’m getting dressed. I just took a shower and wanted to get into comfortable clothes.”

“Oh.”

Her voice is quiet, as if admitting my nakedness made her timid, a part of her I haven’t witnessed before. I like knowing she has a softer, possibly shy side. I wouldn’t mind getting to know that piece of her a bit more.

“So what’s your favorite day of the week?” Her answering laugh makes me grin, as I head into the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge.

There’s my girl.

“Well, yesterday I would have said Tuesdays, but in a month, I’ll probably say Mondays.”

“Why Tuesdays?”

“Because Manheim Orlando is the auction I can sell cars the fastest, and because”—she hesitates—“never mind. What’s yours?”

“Oh, no.” I walk back to the living room and fall back onto my couch. “Let’s hear it.”

“It’s nothing.” Her voice is getting quiet again.

“Tell me, Hershey.” I’m loving this comfortable feeling I get talking to her, but it’s going to bite me in the ass if I scare her off. I swing my legs off the couch, leaning over, burying my face in my hand. I hold my breath, waiting to see if she’ll answer me or bite my head off.

“It’s because I get to work with you, okay? Even though you’ve been an asshole, you’ve also been fun to work with. Sometimes you’re even nice. But I get to see you, and I like it. Is that what you wanted to hear?” she quips at me.

Her unexpected answer pulls a surprised chuckle out of me. It’s cute when she gets so riled up. But she really just said that. She likes working with me.

“Oh. Ha. Ha. What’s so funny?”

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. ”

“You seem to see all the bids, and it makes the day flow more smoothly. Don’t read too much into it.”

“Well, seeing you is the best part of my day, too. And I think you should read into it,” I admit. She doesn’t say anything, and it makes me think I might have taken it too far. My mind races, trying to think of something lighter to talk about. “So what’s your favorite sport, or do you not like sports?”

“Wow! Already assuming I don’t like sports?”

“I’m not assuming. I’m asking. Are you the type to watch a sports game, or am I in for many nights of Hallmark movies?” A smile creeps across my face. I already know I would rather watch a Hallmark movie with her than watch a game by myself.

“Well, I actually do like sports.”

“I remember you like playing beach volleyball. Is that all you enjoy watching, or are there other sports that get you screaming at the TV?”

“I love the thrill of live games. It doesn’t matter which sport. I like to cheer obnoxiously, so you may be embarrassed to watch any game with me. Except golf, that’s not for me. But I do love Hallmark movies. So choosing would be hard. I guess it would depend on which teams are playing, to determine whether it overrides one of my favorite movies or not.”

We continue talking until the sun peeking through my curtains slowly goes away. I can’t remember the last time I talked to a woman on the phone this long. She doesn’t hang up until we need to go to sleep. We both have an early morning. The best way to fall asleep is dreaming of Hunter. The even better part? Seeing her shortly after I wake. The more I learn about her, the more I want to be around her. I’m not wasting another second not being with her. Unless she tells me to fuck off, I’m all in.