Sold to the Highest Bidder Read Free

grinned. Good. Let her see what she’d run away from like her tail was on fire. The sudden rush of resentment didn’t surprise him in the least. It just wasn’t as frequent now as it had been a decade ago when it had nearly eaten him up inside. He’d moved on. It appeared she had too. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets.
    And saw her lift her hand.
    “Two fifty! I have two fifty from… Holy hell.” Scooter sat his hat back farther on his head and squinted down towards the bar. “That you, Ella? Two fifty from Ella Turner. I’ll be damned.” Scooter turned expectantly to first Devin and then Katie.
    “Three hundred,” Katie called out, and Dev threw her a lightning grin of gratitude. God, they’d laugh over this later, over a couple of drinks and maybe a basket of wings.
    He didn’t know what Ella wanted from him, but he could guess. The cinnamon Tic Tac he’d popped in his mouth seemed to sour. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that she wouldn’t get it easily. And she definitely wouldn’t get it tonight.
    “Three fifty,” came a call. From his wife. His blood surged. Forty-eight hours with Ella was a whole different thing. In forty-eight hours… There wouldn’t be the laughs he’d have with Katie. But in forty-eight hours he could do a bang-up job in showing Ella what she’d discarded. The idea held a certain amount of appeal. It would be no less than she’d done to him.
    “Hoooeeee!” Scooter was getting into it now. “This is what I’m talkin’ about. Three fifty for Betty Tucker. Don’t shy away now, ladies. Rumor has it Dev here’s mighty good with his hands. Who’ll give me four hundred?”
    “Take off your shirt!” came an anonymous call from the crowd, and laughter followed.
    He looked over at Ella. She looked like she was being put through the seven tortures of hell. Maybe she did need a reminder. A flash of memory raced through his brain—of being teenagers and the feel of her fingers touching his chest for the first time. His gaze held her eyes as he fought back embarrassment—as a rule he was not into running around shirtless. She had been the one to walk away, and she’d been the one to ask for a divorce without ever showing her face in Backwards Gulch again. Why? That summer they’d been inseparable, newlywed and unable to get enough of each other.
    A flicker of the pain he’d felt at her leaving slashed through him. He knew it was small, he knew it was petty, but he wanted her to get an eyeful of what she’d let get away. Tonight her discomfort was a fringe benefit. Slowly he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and lifted it over his head while the bar went strangely silent, like a collective group of voyeurs waiting expectantly for what would happen next. Once the shirt was off, he dropped it from one hand to the dusty floor at his feet and saw Ella swallow while the rest of her body was still as a post.
    “Four hundred…” said Scooter expectantly.
    The nudge broke the spell. The bids came faster from others in the crowd while Dev felt increasingly exposed. “I have five… I have five fifty. Who’ll give me six? I have six. Six fifty for Dev here. I have six fifty.”
    Katie’s finger lifted as she smirked. “Seven, Scooter.”
    God love her. Dev sent a look of thanks in her direction. The girl was good to her friends. And Dev was thankful to be one of them at this moment.
    “I have seven hundred…seven hundred going once…twice…”
    “Two thousand dollars.”
    The bar fell silent, except for the big screen in the corner that emitted the hushed sounds of a baseball game. Each head turned towards Ella and Devin saw her flush.
    “Two thousand dollars. To Ella Turner.”
    Dev didn’t correct Scooter on the use of her last name. Their marriage was a matter of record but they hadn’t lived together long enough to make it practical. For some she was Ella Turner. For him, she’d always be Ella McQuade, and at the moment, looking down at her designer