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
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
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