Page 96 of The Accidental Innkeeper

I frowned at her. “No. Of course not.”

“Do you think he’s unattractive?”

“No.”

“Then what exactly is the problem?” she asked. “Because from where I’m standing, this is a textbook case of unnecessary restraint.”

“I don’t bid on men,” I said weakly. Yeah, that sounded pretty lame, but it’s all I had at the moment.

Lola sighed. “Sweetheart, men love being bid on. It makes them feel chosen.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “And when a man feels chosen, he starts trying to earn it. Suddenly he’s attentive. Generous in the bedroom. Very… committed to exceeding expectations.”

My eyes widened. “This is a charity auction.” Though I had a feeling the women here all expected a little something from these bachelors. Whether or not they got it, I had no idea.

Lola smiled. “Exactly. He thinks you invested in him.” She paused. “Men get very ambitious when they think they’ve been selected. I once bid on a man who spent the entire date trying to prove his gratitude. Drinks, dinner, compliments, stamina. It was exhausting.” She sighed. “In the best way.”

I groaned. “Please stop.”

Lola patted my arm. “I’m just saying, a man who thinks you wanted him enough to raise your paddle will work very hard to justify that decision. Across the board.”

“That is not helping.”

“Put on your big girl pants and bid already,” expressed Lola. “Or don’t, and spend the rest of the afternoon wondering what his shoulders would’ve felt like under your hands. Or his ass…”

I swallowed. That… also wasn’t helping.

“I don’t know,” I said weakly. “It’s a lot of money.”

“I’ll pay for him,” said Lola casually, like she was offering to cover brunch.

Becca nodded enthusiastically. “I’d second that.”

I shook my head. “I can’t let you do that. You’ve already helped so much.” Which was true. If Lola hadn’t written me that enormous check, I probably wouldn’t even be standing here right now, much less considering bidding on the man who’d kissed me in my den and was now standing on a stage in a tool belt, looking way too pretty.

And then Dust-guy’s gaze landed on me.

Ah, crap.

I felt my insides twist. Nerves or stupid hormones, hard to tell. Possibly both. Watching him up there, looking over the crowd, I told myself I was fine. That I hadn’t expected anything else. That this was how it was always going to go.

Except that wasn’t true.

The kiss hadn’t felt accidental. It hadn’t felt like bad judgment or a momentary lapse in sanity. Well, maybe a bit on my part. But still it had felt… amazing. On both sides.

It took a good man to keep his word too. He said he’d help with the inspection of the inn, and he did. More, even. He showed up every morning for days, not just inspecting but quietly fixing things while he was there, like he assumed I wouldn’t notice.

I noticed.

How he fixed the radiator on the second floor when he thought I wasn’t spying. I totally was. Or when he replaced a piece of crown molding that had rotted clean through from old water damage on the third floor. Little things. Unnecessary things. The kind of fixes you do when you care, not when you’re on the clock.

He never mentioned them. Never pointed them out. Never added them to some imaginary invoice. Any other man in his place would have absolutely billed me for every minute, every screw, every breath.

Dust-guy didn’t.

He just showed up. Did the work. Left things better than he found them.

Dust-guy was a good man, loyal and dependable.

And, inconveniently, sexy as hell.