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Mrs. Kendall.
Kyle swallowed nervously and scanned the crowd as he listened vaguely to the mayor speak.
“This strapping young man is good with his hands…”
“What?” Kyle whispered, realizing how she was twisting the small paragraph they had to write about themselves. “I do carpentry, work on my truck, and am able do small tasks around the house, like painting and electrical work.”
“He’ssooogood with his big, strong hands and can really work a tool…”
“Oh my gosh,” Kyle gaped, staring at her in shock and dismay as several people started to whoop excitedly, making his face turn even redder than it already was.
“He’s the one that holds the hose, ladies…” the mayor teased playfully. “Charity, remember ladies?”
“I’m on the nozzle team,” Kyle squawked, protesting. “I’m a nozzle firefighter, Mrs. Mayor. You’re painting a terrible picture of me…”
“TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS!” a voice called out.
“What?” Kyle said, whipping his head around to see who had bid.
“Make him take off that jacket so we can see his muscles…” a woman cried from the back of the crowd.
“Noooo,” he grimaced, clenching it around him protectively.
“Take off your jacket, young man,” the mayor urged pointedly under her breath. “It’s for charity.”
“Charity begins at home,” he hissed back, glaring at her. “Why don’t you make a donation and get me off this auction block!”
The mayor glared at him and slammed down the gavel to get their attention, causing everyone to look at her – including Kyle.
“Ladies, he said he’s not taking off his jacket or anything else unless you get serious about the bidding…”
“I never said that!” Kyle balked.
“FIFTY!”
“SEVENTY-FIVE!”
“Do I hear a hundred?” the mayor asked openly, smiling happily.
“NOOOO?!” he yelped in shock, realizing this was getting completely out of control quickly every time he opened his mouth.
“ONE HUNDRED!” a woman said from the front row, not looking at Kyle, and her face was almost as ruddy with embarrassment as his was.
Her short cropped brown hair ended at her chin, and she was standing there looking like she’d just come from a funeral, wearing all black and dressed modestly despite the warmth of the day.
“There we go…” the mayor encouraged. “Did I mention that this young man, Kyle Rimes, is right at home getting on his hands and knees easily…”
“I scuttle up the fire engine’s ladder, sheesh woman! Where did you get all of that?” Kyle hissed, looking at the crowd. “I know this is for charity – and I’m happy to participate, but I’m…this… this isn’t what you are thinking, ladies…”
“Is he married?” someone yelled out – and the mayor looked at him.
“No,” Kyle muttered, knowing that despite what he said, he had lost this fight long before it ever started. “I’m single.”
“Do you do woodwork or paint things?” the woman with the short hair asked nervously, catching his attention again as a ripple went through the crowd at his words. He was getting a mental picture of himself having to work around a house, shirtless, wearing a blond wig and tossing his hair like some cover of an old romance book cover model.
“Yeah, I’m pretty good with a circular saw and a jig…” Kyle admitted, swallowing hard as he tried to avoid looking at Mrs. Kendall who was literally fanning herself, made eye contact with him, and then pointed openly at Kyle… mouthing at him.
‘You’re mine, sweet Kyle’.
