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“Let’s see.” She moves back down the table, pulling me with her. “I saw you lusting after the pies so slap one-fifty down on those. You may not win; she makes damn good pies. They’re a popular item every year.” She moves farther along. “Do you like to bar-b-que?”
“Not really. I don’t cook much.”
“So no to anything cooking-wise.” She studies the items in front of us. “Hunt?” I shake my head. “Fish?” No to that one too. “Do not bid on my brother-in-law’s condo. That thing is going to go for way too much,” she mumbles, moving along. “Oh, here we go. You’re into reading, right?”
“Who isn’t into reading?” Seems like a rhetorical question to me. She rolls her eyes again and points to a set of mint-condition county history books. I quickly scrawl my name on the sheet with a price I can afford.
“Let’s see. One more should do it.” She peruses further down the table. “Freezer of meat?”
“No space.”
“Ornamental tree?”
“No lawn.”
“Ballroom dance lessons?”
“Only if you’ll take them with me.”
She takes the pen, signs my name, and puts an amount. “Done,” she says with a flourish. Is she really going to take dance lessons with me?
“What did you bid on? The rifle?” I ask.
“Of course. And the personal catfish fry. And the Jeep tour of the bluebonnets when they’re blooming again.” She’s better at this than I am. “Come on, we have more schmoozing to do. At this rate, you should be in the perfect position to run for sheriff when Sheriff Rogers retires. Shouldn’t be too long now.”
I’m still contemplating her suggestion I run for sheriff when Reed walks up with a group of men following. I feel like this describes his personality exactly. He’s one of those guys that everyone wants to hang out with in the hope that some of his charm rubs off. He slaps me on the back when we meet.
“I see you’re a glutton for punishment,” he says with a nod at Eliot. I open my mouth to defend her, but she’s too quick.
“Bite me, Reed,” she fires back. I should know by now that she can defend herself.
“Oh sweetie, I have a feeling we’d both be in trouble for that.” He throws a lazy arm over her shoulder and squeezes her against him.
I’ve got to admit I’m jealous. It was explained to me at the family dinner that they were best friends in high school. That there has never been anything between them. But that doesn’t quell the need to glare at him. He winks back at me. That doesn’t help.
“Speaking of,” he continues as if I’m not trying to drill a hole in the back of his head with my scowl. “What are you doing Thursday night?”
Eliot’s eyes cut to mine for just a second before focusing on the floor. “I’m busy,” she says vaguely. My focus shifts to her. What is she planning for a quiet Thursday night? I just hope it’s a misdemeanor and not a felony.
“Come on, Eliot,” Reed whines. “We need a catcher. Rafe’s decided he has to celebrate his anniversary instead of playing on Thursday.” He grins at a man I assume is Rafe next to him. “Please,” Reed begs.
“Fine,” she says after the remaining men join Reed in his plea. Eliot in catcher’s gear? I can tell you where I’ll be Thursday night. Right behind home plate.
“Thank you, Eliot.” Reed squeezes her again and smacks a kiss to the side of her head. “Hey, do you play softball?” he asks me. I shrug noncommittally. “I’ll take that as a yes. Next time.” He moves on to the next group of people.
“Catcher, huh?” I ask.
“In high school. Do you play?”
“I have. I was a runner in school though.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I ran relays and the mile. Medaled at state, so remember that when you’re scheming.”
“The more you know,” she smirks. “I think that earns you some peach cobbler.”
“Now you’re talking my love language.”
