The Bachelor's Baby (Bachelor Auction Book 3)(5)

He pocketed his credit card and gathered up his sack of groceries, stepping out of the way for the next customer. “Yes,” he said, adopting the veneer he wore for a boardroom full of lawyers. Something about her air of determination made him feel like he was being subpoenaed.

“I’m Lily Taylor.” She held out her hand and seemed to read him as they shook, changing from a wilted offer to a firm, no-nonsense pump, standing a little straighter—not to push out her chest, but to get the height she needed to better meet his gaze.

A good negotiator, this one. Knew when to use her wiles and when to use her smarts. Proceed with caution, he thought, wondering what she wanted.

“Meg just mentioned that you might be the right person to approach for a fundraiser we’re hosting for a local boy who was hurt recently. Josh Dekker? Have you read about him? He has a spinal cord injury from a fall while he was on a scout trip last year. His mother, Molly, is a friend of mine. She’s a single parent and they’re in quite dire straits, trying to ensure he gets the care he needs and refitting the house.”

Surprised, he glanced around for Meg. How had she known that he’d been raised by a struggling single mom? Or that one of his first stints running a crew of his own had seen him airlifting a kid with a spinal injury to the mainland? His crew had spent a big chunk of their vacation time renovating the young man’s house when he was ready to leave the hospital. This hit all of Linc’s buttons.

“Happy to,” he replied. “What do you need? Pledge money or a pair of hands? I can do both. Let me give you my email. Just tell me where to send a check or when to show up.” He reached into his pocket for his business card.

“A man of action,” Lily said with approval, taking the card and tucking it securely in a side pocket of her purse. “Meg was right. You’re exactly what we’re looking for. Thank you so much for agreeing to pitch in. It will mean a lot to the family. I’ll email you all the details shortly.”

Her overly pleased smile made him feel like he’d just signed a contract with some tricky fine print. A tingle of danger spread across his chest. “What exactly did I just agree to?”

“To be part of the fundraiser.” Her smooth features belonged on a bill collector accepting a long-awaited check. Definitely no take-backs. “At Grey’s Saloon this Saturday. It’s a Bachelor Auction.”

*

“Not funny,” a male voice growled behind her as Meg reached for a small box off a shelf in the hardware store.

His voice really was a turn on, all heavy and faintly abrasive, yet warm and rounded. Like good scotch, or an heirloom quilt.

He’d still been talking to Lily when Meg had left the grocery store, his neck red, his scowl a firmly fixed mask. Meg didn’t know Lily that well, but had met her through Andie Bennet, who was made of awesome. She trusted Andie’s judgment, even though Lily was rumored to have been a stripper in another life and had only been in town a few years. Meg hadn’t lived here full-time since leaving for college and took all such gossip with a grain of salt. Besides, despite Lily’s sometimes acerbic sense of humor, she struck Meg as the biggest heart of gold walking, especially given the fundraiser she was spearheading for Molly Dekker. Molly was another sweetheart—a kindergarten teacher and single mom whose only son had been injured last fall. Meg had genuinely wanted to help once she heard what Lily was trying to do for Molly.

The fact it had allowed her to lob another snowball in Linc’s direction was icing on the cake.

“What do you mean?” Meg asked with an innocent glance at him that actually made her heart skip as she took in his folded arms and planted feet. He was genuinely mad.

She cleared her throat and made herself face him, even though her blood stung a warning through her veins. At the same time, the worst of her girlish hormones fluttered, filling her with nervous excitement and giddy warmth.

“Why did you set that woman on me?” he asked.

“Lily? She asked me about Blake. She was disappointed to hear he’s engaged. She asked if I could think of any other eligible bachelors in town. I said I had just met a perfect one-date wonder.” Blink. Blink. Blink.

These baby blues had pulled Meg from basement cable interviews of small-time activists to a relief position with a syndicated station. She wasn’t afraid to use them.

Linc was really tall. And had perfected his glower of intimidation. She privately admitted he worked that like a hot damn, but she’d made a career for herself in what was still a world heavily ceded to men. Outwardly, she didn’t falter.

“Can you tell me if these are self-screwing?” She held up the box in her hand.

His scruffed beard seemed to bristle as his jaw hardened.

“Oh, you’ve got a handful of screw yourself,” he assured her.

She swallowed back a laugh, pretty sure that would get her into more trouble than she already stood in. Instead, she turned the box over in her hands. She hadn’t had this much fun in ages. “Maybe one nail would be simpler?”

“Why are you so pissed off?” he demanded.

“I’m not, I’m really not,” she insisted. “I think it’s funny.”

“You think tricking me into standing on a stage and have women bid on me like a stud bull is funny?”

“I didn’t think you’d agree,” she defended. “It was an impulse to mention you, since you walked right by us and you’re, I assume, single?”