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“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, shirt less, 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’ .

Kyle cringed, crossing himself openly.

“TWO HUNDRED!” a voice cried out – and he saw the woman with the short hair had bid again, still refusing to look at him.

“What?!”

“Take off your jacket, mister…” the mayor hissed angrily.

“Look – I’ll throw in two hundred to end the stupid auction right now,” Kyle said angrily, feeling nausea roll in his stomach at the thought of Mrs. Kendall possibly winning him.

The old woman was a terror, and he was afraid she would really cross the line this time!

“Get me off this auction block and stop this insanity. I’m not exactly what you are wanting up here… ”

“SOLD!” the mayor hollered, banging her gavel noisily. “Mr. Kyle Rimes of the Flirt’s Battalion…

“First Street!” Kyle interrupted pointedly.

“… Is yours for one entire twenty-four-hour period, Miss Reyna Mattingly,” the mayor continued speaking, smiling at the crowd – and grabbing Kyle by the arm before he walked away.

“Mr. Rimes – you owe the charity two hundred dollars, remember?”

He glared at her, feeling practically man-handled and discomforted as he realized that his time had just been auctioned off like a haunch of meat to a butcher .

Nodding, he dug out his wallet and quickly handed over everything he’d withdrawn from the ATM the day before, intending to get a few things for an apartment he was hoping to lease very soon, that now would just have to wait until next payday…

“Can I have a list of the stupid rules for this farce?” he muttered – and was handed a sheet of paper with the details lined out for him. “Thanks.”

“Thank you , Mr. Rimes…” the mayor said in a saccharine voice. “Ms. Mattingly? If you’ll pay the cashier – there is a small picnic bench where you can discuss your upcoming ‘date’…

“Meeting,” Kyle corrected as the woman walked up.

“Meeting,” the winner of the auction agreed coolly, still not looking at him as she dug out her wallet and paid the cashier. “I’ll need a receipt for taxes – please, and thank you.”

“Of course, Miss Mattingly.”

“Thanks, Dolly…”

The woman turned and looked at him, spinning carefully as to not dig her heels into the grass – and he felt something move within him as he realized she had the most beautiful turquoise eyes he’d ever seen.

“You can paint?” she asked candidly.

“Yeah?”

“Wonderful,” she began, and held out her hand in a businesslike manner. “I need your help – and quite a bit of painting done.”

“You don’t want to go on a date?”

“No,” she said nervously, her hand remaining out as she waited for him to take it. “I need help with my café – and I can’t do it alone.”

“But we are not dating…?” he reiterated, arching an eyebrow, feeli ng slightly disappointed and a little relieved that he was off the hook. He could definitely do manual labor, but a part of him kind of wished that maybe she wasn’t so disinterested… because she was really pretty.

“One date doesn’t make people ‘ dating’ , you know… besides, it really makes things quite sordid, if I’ve paid for your company. Don’t you think?”

“So, this is a date?”

“No, Mr. Rimes… this is me, hiring you, to help me with some manual labor.”

“Is that code for something?” he asked warily, thinking of his partner Austin immediately. Austin was always throwing out things that had a different meaning – and frankly? So did Andy. Those two men spoke an entirely different language sometimes.

“The mayor twisted stuff, so are you doing the same thing? Is manual labor code for some weird, kinky thing that I’m too dumb or na?ve to understand?”

The woman, Miss Mattingly, smiled nervously, and her cheeks reddened even more than he thought possible as she held his gaze.

“No. Manual labor is just that: manual labor,” she replied. “You are going to work with your hands - painting.”

Kyle nodded and listened distractedly as the crowd suddenly roared in delight as the auction continued in the distance, and he gave the elusive Miss Mattingly his phone number and accepted her business card.

“Text me when you have a day off this next week, and we’ll get this out of the way, okay?” the woman said bluntly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me? I’m late for a meeting…”

Kyle stared as she walked off. She was crossing the street, heading into the bank at the corner of Main and State Street, leav ing him more curious and mystified than before at seeing her – and her reaction to his questions.

She looked almost like she was as bothered as he was regarding the auction, and the fact that she’d just purchased his time and company.

… And he was fascinated.