“You’re kidding.”
Cole shook his head. “Here we go.” They stopped at a row near the front and he set their chairs up.
“Hi-dee, Cole.”
“Hey, Thelma Lou. Charlie.”
“How do,” Charlie said, then nodded at Josie.
“Hello,” Josie said. Thelma Lou? Good Lord, we’ve taken a wrong turn and landed in Mayberry.
“Oh, this here’s Josie Allen. Josie, this is Charlie and Thelma Lou.”
“How do you do,” Josie said.
“I do just fine, thanks,” the man named Charlie said.
“Looks like a good spread,” Cole commented, tipping his head toward the assembled junk.
“Oh sure,” Charlie agreed. “Better get at it before they start.”
“Yep,” Cole agreed.
Josie had no idea what they were talking about. Get at it?
Cole took the cooler from her, set it between the chairs, then grabbed her hand and said, “Come on.”
“Where are we going? I thought we were late.”
“We gotta get signed in and check everything out.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Charlie just shook his head. “First timer?”
“Yeah. But she’s a quick learner.” To Josie, he said, “Let’s go.”
He laced his fingers with hers and led her to the front of the room. A lady who sat behind a card table with a clipboard greeted them. “Hey, Cole. Ma’am.”
“Hey, Mary Jane.”
“You need one or two paddles?”
“Just one.”
“Are they for bidding?” Josie asked.
Cole nodded.
Mary Jane smiled. “First timer?”
“Yep.” Cole pulled out a credit card and handed it to Mary Jane.
Okay. Josie was getting tired of being talked about as if she weren’t there. She was also getting tired of the patronizing comments about her ignorance of how things worked.
“Hope you got plenty of money on this,” the lady chuckled around her cigarette, ash falling from the end, as she ran an imprint of Cole’s card.
Cole laughed, too. “Yep. I’m guessin’ she’ll be an old hand at it in no time flat.” He put his card back in his wallet and handed Josie the paddle. “Here you go.”
“Glad to have you, miss,” Mary Jane said. To Cole she said, “You better give her a limit.”
Had she actually winked at him?
“What was that about? Josie asked as they walked away.
“Oh, don’t think nothin’ of it. Just good-natured ribbing. It’s her way of welcoming you. You know, she wants you to feel like you fit in.”
“Are you saying I don’t fit in?”
“No, I just meant it’s your first time, and Mary Jane was joking around to make you feel welcome.”
Could have fooled her, but she’d keep an open mind. She was out of her element, after all. These people probably wouldn’t have any idea how to organize books using the Dewey Decimal System. Well, at least most of them.
“Man . . .” Josie said. They were standing in the middle of the world’s biggest garage sale, no doubt about it. Up close, it was almost claustrophobic. Things were stacked up everywhere. Absolutely everything imaginable.
“Don’t worry. There’s a method to it.”
“How could there possibly be?”
“Trust me.”
They maneuvered through the narrow pathways that had been left open. Only one person at a time could pass, so she gladly trailed along after Cole. If one of the stacks fell, she could duck behind him. Such a big, muscular man. He could take it. Besides, she couldn’t complain about the view. His jeans hugged his hips and thighs in all the right places.
“Just have a look at what’s here and make a mental note of the things you’d like to bid on. They’ll do the boxes first, then the nick-knacks, pictures and such. They’ll work their way up from there to the big items, like the furniture.”
Josie nodded, trying to focus.
“See anything you like?”
If he only knew. “Honestly, there’s so much, I can hardly assimilate it. One item runs into the next.”
“How ’bout this?”
He’d pointed out a nice Victorian table lamp with a marble base and a faded blue, fringe-trimmed shade.
“Pretty,” Josie said, “How do you know if it works?”
“You don’t.”
“Why would you buy something without knowing if it worked?”
“That’s half the fun. It’s a bonus if it’s in perfect working order. If it ain’t, lamps are pretty easy to fix.”
“Maybe for you.”
“I’d fix it for you,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.
Josie giggled. “I’m sure you would. Oh!” She dropped to her knees.
“What?” He went down with her, his hand on her arm. “You okay?”
She just nodded as she poked through a box filled with old, leather-bound books. Running her hand across the smooth spines, she scanned the titles. “Oh my gosh!”
Cole peered over her shoulder. “What?”
“It’s Tom Sawyer.” She lifted the book out of the box and turned to the copyright page. “Oh my gosh! It’s a first edition!”
“Shh . . .” he said, glancing around to see if anyone had heard her.
“Do you know how much this is worth?” she whispered.
“I can imagine,” he said softly, his breath tickling her ear, “and you’d better keep that kind of information to yourself, unless you want to drive the price up. I mean, there are a few antique dealers here, but they go mostly for the furniture. You could probably get this whole box for five bucks.”
She dropped the book. “You’re kidding?”
“No, ma’am.”
Carefully, she picked it up, examining it to make sure she hadn’t damaged it. “Can we just give them five dollars now?”
“No, you have to bid on it.”
She reluctantly returned the book to the box. They continued to rummage around until the auctioneer took his place on the raised platform between the seating area and the merchandise.
“We best get our seats,” Cole said. “You hungry?”
“A little.”
Back at their lawn chairs, Cole flipped open the top on the cooler and said, “I brought canned soft drinks. If you don’t like what I have, there’s a machine out back.”
She took the lemon-lime drink he passed her. “This is fine.”
Josie sat back in her chair, her gaze sweeping around the room. What an experience. The whole casual, treasure-hunter atmosphere fascinated her. Some people continued to examine the tangle of items to be sold. Others, like them, relaxed in their chairs, waiting for the auction to begin. Most everyone had brought their own food. Others had gotten hot dogs and popcorn from the concession area in the back. “Interesting.”
“What?” He handed her a sandwich wrapped in wax paper.
“This whole scene. It’s not at all what I’d expect in an auction.”
“The only auctions you’ve probably ever seen are those high brow affairs where they sell off paintings or rich people’s things.”
Josie continued scanning the room. “I’ve never been to an auction period, but I’ve seen a few on television.”
“Yeah. This is nothin’ like that.”
That much, she had surmised. She unwrapped her sandwich, halfway expecting Dixie’s chicken salad, but instead found a turkey hoagie.
“Is that okay?” A look of concern creased his brow.
“Yes,” she assured him. “I haven’t had a hoagie in years.” She bit into the sandwich. It tasted wonderful. She set the sandwich on a napkin in her lap and popped the top on her soda. After taking a long drink, she put the can in the cup holder built into the arm of her chair. “That’s handy.”
“Stick with me and you’ll learn all kinds of things I’m sure you never thought you would.”
Josie smiled. She had no doubt about that. Sh
e took a minute to just stare at Cole. He wore a loose fitting white cotton shirt with a good three buttons undone at his throat revealing a nice view of his smooth, tanned chest. He wore his long hair down today. She liked how he tucked it behind his ears and the way it fell in soft waves past his shoulders.
He wiped his chin with a napkin. “Do I have mustard on my face or something?”
She looked away, trying to smother a smile behind her napkin. “No,” she said, then hid behind another bite of her sandwich.
He leaned in close and whispered, “Like what you see?”
Heat rushed up her neck and settled in her cheeks. She swallowed and turned to look at him again. He was so close, they almost bumped noses. The warm, spicy scent of his cologne, combined with his elemental appeal, heightened her desire for him. At length, she managed to say, “Yes.”
He tilted his head to the side and kissed her. A brief, intense kiss that left her wanting more. He darted his tongue out to tease the corner of her mouth before breaking the contact. Heat raced through every inch of her body, and she wanted nothing more than to pull him back to her for a more thorough exploration.
“Mmm. Mustard tastes so much better that way.”
Josie jolted back to reality and wiped her mouth with her paper napkin. Hard to feel sexy when you have condiments dripping down your face.
“Now don’t go gettin’ all self-conscious,” he said as if reading her mind. “Eating can be very sensual.”
Josie imagined that watching ice melt with Cole would be sensual. Hmm . . . watching ice melt on Cole added amazing dimension to the wild fantasies racing through her mind. “Sorry,” she said.
“No need to apologize. I enjoyed it.”
Josie smiled a secret smile. He thought she’d apologized for having mustard on her face.
The auctioneer pounded his gavel effectively killing the mood. “Let’s get started, folks. We got a lot of good merchandise to go through here. The boys really brought some great items down for you tonight.”
She leaned toward Cole and whispered. “Tell me about these Chicago boys. This stuff isn’t stolen is it?”
He chuckled. “No. The Chicago boys are really just two guys with a truck who make a run to Chicago every two weeks and bring the goods for the auction back with them.”
“Oh.”
Three guys who could easily have played the backwoods characters Larry, Darrell and Darrell on the sitcom, Newhart, carried boxes to the front of the room.
“They always do the boxes first,” Cole said.
“What’s in them?”
They both continued to munch on their sandwiches while Larry dug through the contents of the box he held. He pulled out a lace tablecloth, held up some glassware, and a painted vase.
“It’s kinda like a grab bag. You never know what you’re gonna get. That’s ninety percent of the fun.”
“Have you ever gotten one?”
“Sure.”
“What was in it?”
“Mostly junk.”
“Oh.” For some reason, she was incredibly disappointed.
“And one of the first Batman comics ever printed, in mint condition.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Did you sell it?”
“Oh, yeah. Bought a real nice computer with the money I got.”
“Wow. Hey, maybe I could get a few computers for the library that way!” she joked.
They’d begun taking bids on the third box. It went for two dollars.
“Can we get one?” she asked a tad breathlessly.
“Sure. Just pick out the one you want and bid.”
“How?”
“Listen to the auctioneer. He started the bid on this one at fifty dollars. He always starts high because he gets a percentage of the sells.”
Josie listened. The man was saying, “Well give me fifty, give me fifty, give me fifty . . .” Then he went to, “Well give me forty, give me forty, give me forty.” He worked it all the way down to ten dollars. When he didn’t receive a bid, the man said, a touch of exasperation in his voice, “Somebody start us off.”
A person in the front of the room called out, “One dollar.”
The auctioneer said, “You’re wrong on this one folks. One dollar, give me two, give me two, who’ll give me two?”
Someone near Josie raised his paddle, and the Darrell holding the box called out, “Go!”
Then the auctioneer asked for three. The box finally went for four dollars.
“Think you’re gettin’ the hang of it?”
She nodded and perched on the edge of her seat to try and see some of the contents of the next box. It had some old annuals, a school letter like you would put on a letterman jacket, a beat-up football, and some trophies. She’d missed out on high school football games partly because she’d preferred spending her Fridays at the library studying. But Cole had played football. Maybe he might like some of the things in the box.
The bidding started much the same as it had before. She waited until someone called out a bid, then when the auctioneer asked for a higher bid, she raised her paddle. Much to her amazement, no one else bid, and she got the box for two dollars. Winning the bid gave her an unexpected feeling of elation. Darrell carried the box over and set it next to Cole.
She leaned across him to peer inside. “Can I go through it now?”
“Let’s save it till later. Finish your sandwich.”
Josie shook her head and put her hoagie back in the cooler. “I’m too excited to eat.”
Charlie sitting down the row from her said, “First timers,” under his breath. Mary Lou punched him in the ribs.
“Ow!”
“Don’t pay him no mind, dear,” Thelma Lou said. “You just enjoy yourself.”
Josie followed Thelma Lou’s advice. She leaned over Cole, her breasts pressed against his arm, to get a better view of the box’s contents. “Please? I can’t stand it.”
He pulled her up by her shoulders, caressed a kiss across her temple and said, “Anticipation makes it much more pleasurable in the end.”
Josie grabbed a handful of his soft white shirt and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. His gaze locked on her mouth like a starving man presented with a smorgasbord.
“Cole?”
“Keep that up, and we’ll be out of here in record time.”
She wanted to say, “Promise?” but thought that would probably be too forward. Twin desires burned inside her. A need to discover what was in the box, and a need for Cole. She swallowed hard around the knot forming in her throat. The way he watched her made her wonder if he could read her mind.
He slid an arm around her waist and hauled her close to his side.
“Was there anything you were particularly interested in buying?” she asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.
“I thought you’d want to bid on that box of books.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Josie had to work hard to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She missed the mark. Hang the books. She just wanted to be alone with Cole.
“Thank you, God,” Cole murmured.
He pointed to the front. Larry was holding the box of books. Cole grabbed the paddle. Somewhat patiently he waited for the bidding to begin. She imagined he didn’t want to start the bidding too high. That might tip someone off that there was something valuable inside. In the end, he got the box for ten dollars. Ecstatic, Josie could have jumped up and down, but she restrained herself.
After Larry deposited the box next to the other one, Cole turned to her and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
“You leavin’ already?” Charlie asked in a loud whisper. That drew another sharp elbow to the ribs from Thelma Lou.
“Ow!” Charlie complained.
“Ya’ll have a nice evenin’ now, hear?” Thelma Lou smiled. Her eyes fairly twinkled.
“Goodbye,” Josie said, waving. “It was nice to meet you.”
Cole stacked the boxes one on top of
the other. “Can you get the cooler?”
She nodded.
“I’ll come back for the chairs,” Cole said.
“Oh, Charlie’ll take ’em out, won’t you, hon?”
“What? Are you kiddin’?”
That earned him another shot to the ribs. The poor man was going to be black and blue.
He coughed. “I mean, happy to oblige,” Charlie said.
The three of them walked out to the truck. After they’d stored everything and thanked Charlie for his help, Cole helped Josie into the truck, and they were on their way.
“Can I look now?” She craned her neck to better see behind the seat where he’d stashed the boxes.
Cole laughed. “So impatient.”
“Uh-huh. Where are we going? How long will it take to get there?”
He grasped her hand. “Come here.”
He pulled her across the bench seat until she sat close enough to touch, her leg pressed against his. It was tricky with the stick shift, but she managed. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled closer. “I’m sure this violates the state seatbelt law.”
“I can see you’re a play-it-by-the-rules kinda girl.”
“Goes with the territory. I am a librarian.”
“You don’t look like any kinda librarian I’ve ever seen. Not tonight.”
Josie smiled at the compliment. She liked that he thought she was . . . whatever he thought she was. “Are you sorry we didn’t stay?”
“Are you?” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
“No, I can’t wait to go through the boxes.”
His sigh was heavy. “And here I thought we left early because you wanted to be alone with me.”
Josie snuggled even closer against his side. “Well, there is that,” she said as she pressed a kiss to his neck.
Chapter Seven
Cole turned down a gravel road at the edge of town that curved up into the tall pines. The name of it was Pine Lane, but most just called it Lovers’ Lane. He gave Josie a sideways look, wondering if she’d comment about him taking her up to the Lovers’ Clearing. She didn’t say a thing. In fact, she looked anxious. That pleased him immensely.
When they reached the clearing, he put the truck in park and killed the engine. He got out and helped Josie down, then pulled the red plaid blanket they’d used for their lunch date earlier in the week—minus the mess—from behind the seat.
Only You Page 9
