Can't Buy My Love
ladies, time to line up! Three minutes!” Grams called.
    The giggling women tossed their hair, adjusted their boobs, and smacked their lips while trailing out into the hallway.
    One last glimpse in the mirror showed that I really did look pretty damn good. I narrowed my eyes and then reached into the neckline of my black dress, pulling my breasts higher up in my bra until I had an impressive amount of cleavage. Another swipe of red lipstick and I was ready.
    Spinning toward the door, I realized I was already a ways behind the other women. I ran from the room and collided into something so hard it sent me reeling backward.
    Strong hands caught me before I could fall on my butt and I reached up to steady myself, grabbing solid biceps. Lifting my gaze, I saw the nicest pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen. Eyes that glittered down at me with interest and what seemed like recognition.
    Did I know him? Goose bumps broke out on my body and my pulse quickened.
    I swallowed hard and took a step backward, expanding my line of vision and taking all of him in. Whoa . The arms that had kept me from falling had some type of Celtic symbols circling both forearms before disappearing under his T-shirt.
    Jerking my gaze from his arms, I looked into his face again. Above a scruffy goatee was a mocking smile.
    “What’s your hurry?”
    I blinked. “I need to go sell myself.”
    “Sell yourself?” He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds kinky.”
    For some bizarre reason, my body got all warm at the way he looked at me. And the way he said “kinky” hadn’t helped .
    “It’s not. Well, it’s not supposed to be.”
    “Ah.”
    The heat spread to my cheeks as his gaze moved from my head down to my toes. Did he like what he saw?
    Stop gawking at the man and get your ass moving.
    I forced myself to walk past him. “I need to go.”
    My grandma came running out from the other room, glaring at me. “You need to get your fanny on stage. The bidding is about to start.”
    She turned to look at Mr. Tattoo and narrowed her eyes. Before she could accuse him of being a punk ass liberal, I grabbed her elbow and steered her back into the auction room.
    Grams pushed me toward the stage, where the rest of the cattle, er, women, waited to be sold.
    I took my place in line, which now was last, and waited for the bidding to begin. Looking out over the room, I saw it was packed with men. Men in suits who likely worked at the one company on the island that required them to be worn. Men in hard hats that had taken an extended lunch hour from the construction site. Men in cowboy hats, baseball caps and—damn there were just men everywhere. But no Mr. Tattoo. Annoyed at myself for even looking, and wondering why the heck I cared, I smoothed my hands down my black dress.
    How much would I go for anyway? What was standard? A couple of hundred? Jeez, the way I looked, I could probably get half a grand.
    I watched Grams wrestle with the microphone and wave to the room. “Hello, boys. You ready to bid on girl number one?” There was a roar of excitement. “All right. Then first up we have Anna Emmerson. Anna, step forward, please. Bidding starts at five dollars.”
    Anna stepped forward. Young, thin, blonde, perky boobs, and she made the best strawberry shortcake in town. She would bring in some serious bids. I shook my head, already doing the math in my mind.
    The bidding started, and I could barely keep up as she went from five dollars to three hundred within minutes. She sold for five hundred dollars in the end. I was completely blown away, but then, some cattle rancher who’d moved to town bought her.
    I bit back a smile, thinking if Anna could get half a grand without a college education, then I was going to bring in some serious dough.
    The rest of the women sold just as fast, ranging anywhere from fifty dollars to three hundred, though nobody matched Anna. It seemed like a lot to pay for just twenty-four hours with a girl, but then again the men in town saved

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