by LJ Vickery
“No, it’s not.” The gorgeous stranger’s low, husky tone sent a sympathetic vibration skittering through his limbs, but she gave Wiley no more than a cursory glance before shuffling her bag to clear the area for him, straightening her spine and focusing her attention to the front of the room
Huh. Not so much as a glimmer of interest. Had his tongue been hanging out? He surreptitiously checked his zipper. Nope. All clear there. No matter. He shook off the unexpected throbbing. He wasn’t here to troll for women, no matter how beautiful. He was here to win himself a prize.
Wiley thanked the man and his wife before edging in to sit down, folding himself into a chair not built for a man his size. He couldn’t help that his thighs inadvertently pressed up against each of his neighbors. Whereas Jan looked thrilled when he gave her an apologetic shrug, Beauty ignored him.
Great. Good. I can do that, too.
The auctioneer began. It took a few minutes before Wiley got used to his cadence, delivery, and the way people in the gallery put forth their bids. It was a good thing his Compound hadn’t come up early. He wouldn’t have known what to do.
After a short time, it became clear that Jan and Whiskers were bidding on old swords and knives that graced a table Wiley had missed. He dutifully looked over every item they won, giving them the appropriate “oohs” and “ahhs”. An hour in, Beauty had half her bag full of little treasures, but unlike the couple to his left, she didn’t waste time sharing her acquisitions. She just put them into her carrier. Wiley kept track, though. She’d purchased a small, wind-up tank, two roly-poly clown toys, and a small mahogany box, which he ascertained to be a puzzle box of some sort, that she fiddled with briefly. A tray of Japanese fans, some old dental tools, the book on Boston, and a ring of ancient-looking skeleton keys completed her haul. The odd mixture of items intrigued him.
He just about got up the courage to ask about her curious array when one of the auction runners appeared behind the auctioneer, Jurassic Park in his arms. Wiley sat up a little straighter, and even though he’d been cool and collected in any number of dangerous situations in his life, he now found that his hands grew clammy and a muscle in his jaw ticked. What the fuck? He took a few deep breaths and tried to appear unconcerned, like others he’d seen bidding, by keeping his expression blank, his eyes seemingly bored.
The auctioneer finished up the item he’d been selling, and it was suddenly game time as Command Compound lay dead in Wiley’s sights. As he’d seen others do, he let the auctioneer ask for a high amount, then waited until he reduced it several times. Somebody eventually bit at twenty-five bucks. When the auctioneer asked for thirty-five, Wiley’s hand went up.
“I have thirty-five, thirty-five. Do I hear forty-five?”
The initial bidder up front waved his hand.
“I have forty-five. Now fifty-five?”
Wiley raised his hand.
He and his opponent went back and forth until Wiley hit two hundred dollars, at which time the man signaled himself out.
Yes.
“Two hundred dollars to the gentleman in back,” the auctioneer continued. “I have two hundred dollars… Will anyone give me two and a quarter?” His head swiveled about. “Two hundred going once. Two hundred going twice…”
Wiley saw a twitch beside him as he drummed his fingers on the leg of his jeans.
“Two twenty-five from the lady next to you, sir. Will you make it two fifty?”
Wiley blinked, incredulous. After sitting out all the initial bidding, she wanted his toy now? Not happening, lady. Wiley threw up his hand, raising the stakes, and sent a glare in her direction. Did she just compress her lips?
As the auctioneer continually asked for more, Beauty countered each time Wiley bid. At three hundred dollars, the price grew far higher than he’d thought to offer, but it was now the principle of it. How dare she think to add his toy to the heap of junk she’d already purchased.
Wiley had plenty of money, so he wouldn’t be outbid, even if he had to go to a thousand bucks. His digits continued their nervous tattoo on his leg.
Perhaps she recognized the resolve on his face, or maybe it was the fact he raised his hand and simply left it in the air, even through her bidding. Whatever the case, she seemed to finally understand she couldn’t win. When the price reached four hundred dollars, she gave a small, audible sigh, but didn’t raise her hand again.
Thank Christ.
“Going once. Going twice. Sold to the man in the back for four hundred dollars.”
Wiley wanted to pump his fist, to gloat, but something about the woman’s slumped posture made him rein it in. Had she really wanted it that badly?
He dared to nudge her leg with his and leaned forward to stare at the side of her face. “Sorry, but I really had to have that,” he whispered. “Did it mean anything to you?”
She met his gaze briefly and shrugged before swiftly turning away, but not before Wiley saw the tears in her eyes.
What the hell?
Chapter Two
Solina understood that the man next to her bid because of a visceral connection to the toy. And she couldn’t fault him. She had one, too. But how could two people want the same item, other than for its collector’s value? Solina blinked away the tears that threatened to spill, taking deep breaths into her core, as she’d been taught to do whenever blindsided by her creeping demons.
No big deal, she chastised herself. There will be another.
Having researched the Command Compound in depth, she knew the toy fetched upwards of one thousand dollars on eBay. A price that lay far beyond her allotted budget. Truth be told, so did four hundred dollars. Although not hurting for money, she’d set an amount to spend and needed to stick by it. She should be thanking the mystery man for securing it before she offered something that went against her set plan.
Solina steadily shook off her demons and concentrated. Think of something…someone else. The stranger who sat beside her seemed like a good candidate. She’d taken a long look at him as he assessed the offerings in the gallery earlier, and who wouldn’t? Tall, broad, with a smooth, chiseled face, he exuded power and confidence. A complete contrast to her own fade-into-the-woodwork demeanor. People moved aside for him without realizing they did so, and amazingly, it seemed that no great ego attached itself to his persona. He didn’t notice that deference paid.
He moved with a stunning grace for such a large man, and she’d been secretly thrilled when he sat down beside her. Of course, it wouldn’t do for him to think she had any interest. Solina knew her limitations, and hunky men were way out of her comfort zone. Well, at this point in her life, all men were out of the question.
Still, she had a hard time ignoring him. His thigh brushed hers periodically, and when he bent in her direction to check out an offering being carried from the back of the gallery, she caught a whiff of him. French fries. Her favorite.
And now Solina felt him studying her patiently, waiting for her to speak. She finally decided to answer his innocent question, to tell him what she thought he wanted to hear, but when she turned to face him, she lost all train of thought. Wide-spaced, hazel-brown eyes―all the earthy colors of a verdant forest―studied her with concern. She hadn’t seen that emotion on anyone’s face in a very, very long time.
Her jaw unhinged, her eyes stuck open, and she simply stared.
Still, he waited. Perhaps he’d gotten used to turning people into blithering idiots and had developed infinite patience. Additional emotions played behind his lovely orbs as he remained static. Solina had no hope of reading them, so she plunged in.
“Uh…” The single, dumb syllable hung between them. She tried for more. “I…”
His eyes crinkled at the corners and he gave a good-natured chuckle. After a few more seconds of silence, he came to her rescue. “Here. Let me start,” he offered. “My name is Wiley. I’m sorry if I stepped on your toes, but I had to have that toy. It was something from my childhood.”
Solina sucked in a br
eath. “Mine, too,” she admitted.
“Seriously?” His face lit up, then fell. “Damn. Now I feel really bad. How much did it mean to you?”
Before Solina could think twice, she blurted out, “I owned it as a child. We moved a lot and my parents threw it out during one of our fast relocations.” Damn. Diarrhea of the mouth much? She hadn’t meant to say all that. Hadn’t meant to give him a picture of her bleak childhood. But she couldn’t take it back now.
“Wow. That’s harsh,” Wiley commiserated, adding a frown to the worry he previously exuded. “Maybe we can make some kind of deal. Like a timeshare or something.”
Before he got any further, Solina knew she had to shut him down. A pact like that would mean entanglements, something she definitely could not consider. “That won’t be necessary,” she assured him, doing everything she could to keep from exhibiting the nervous habit she had of twirling her long ponytail with her fingers. She reached for her bag instead. “You won it fair and square. I’ll find another.” Lifting her jacket from the top of her tote, she swiftly jammed one arm into the sleeve…stopped by the mittens she’d placed in there.
Great. Fumble a little more in front of the poised Adonis.
Seconds passed, but Solina somehow managed to put on the rest of her outerwear. She needed to escape before she did something extremely stupid, like give the man her name. She’d been to this auction every Monday night for the last six months and managed to stay almost completely anonymous, which was how she wanted it. Just because he had kindness and empathy written all over his face didn’t mean Solina should pay attention to the small, warm glow that flared to life behind her breastbone.
She forced herself to stand and indicated with her chin that she’d like to egress to the aisle. For a short moment, she thought he’d stop her, but with a distinct sigh, he got up and pressed his jean-clad calves back into his folding chair.
Now what? Solina’s brain hitched. There was hardly enough room to squeeze by. The row of chairs skewed after him, so it would be easy to avoid the man and woman on the end. But to pass Wiley, she’d have to brush up against his large body.
She blinked up at him, which wasn’t a normal occurrence. Solina stood five-foot-nine and was far from diminutive. Most times, she was eye to eye with the sea of humanity, but she had to tilt her chin upward to look into his glorious orbs.
“Excuse me…,” she postulated.
He didn’t budge. And it appeared like he had no inclination to do so.
Solina narrowed her gaze, but his remained impassive. She suppressed her rising irritation and willed her feet to move. Lowering her frustrated scrutiny, she chose to face him as she passed and stared pointedly, no higher than his chin, as she slid by. Sucking in her belly helped decrease the contact, but nothing could be done about her breasts, which brushed against a wall of muscle. The man was made of solid steel, and her nipples hardened against him. Inexplicably, the glow inside her ignited into a small flame.
Her mouth popped open and words flew out. “I’ll be here next week,” she squeaked. What are you doing!? Damn her nipples for the traitors they were. How mortifying.
Before he had a chance to respond, Solina skittered past him and the elderly couple, practically running from the room toward the checkout desk.
Paying her bill without looking behind her to see if he followed, she fled through the door to the parking lot, where a sheet of ice slowed her down. The cold night air cooled her heated cheeks and tamped down her embarrassment. When she didn’t hear the door open behind her, she knew Wiley didn’t pursue her. For that, she should be thankful.
So why did she feel a twinge of disappointment?
Once inside her car, she willed the heat to come up as she put it in gear and pulled out onto the road. It would be a long trip home. Plenty of time to assess where the hell her head had been to let herself get lost in a pretty face and act completely contrary to her nature. Perhaps the vulnerability of being thrust back into her childhood upon seeing that toy had lowered her normally impenetrable walls. Or maybe it had something to do with the man himself. The probing and compassionate way he’d regarded her added to a magnificent physical package. How could she resist?
Hells bells.
She should stop beating herself up over it. Any woman with normal-firing synapses would have reacted the same way, right? Maybe he’d prove to be the perfect fling. Some steamy sex, a simple farewell, then back to her blissful, painless autonomy.
Forty minutes later, her internal debate still raging, Solina pulled into her driveway. Making a quick perusal of her small antique shop, she drove down the icy, rutted path that stretched sixty meters to her home. She put the car in park. It never ceased to amaze her that the two buildings belonged to her, and had for the past year. If she had her way, she’d live here for the rest of her life. That was the plan.
The warmth of her house wrapped around her as she opened the door, and her cat, Ostrich, chirped somewhere nearby. He’d probably be draped across one of the large radiators in the kitchen. She took off her coat and hung it among the many in her front hallway closet, then walked into the living room to take out the night’s purchases. She needed to concentrate.
A finger went to her lips, and she rolled her shoulders to reduce the tension. What could she give up this time? Looking around the room at her current array of treasures, she quickly, with only a moment’s hesitation, chose a pair of vintage Barbie dolls, replacing them on the shelf with her two new clowns.
Next, she scooped up a cloth decorated with old hatpins, settling the dental tools she’d purchased in their spot. Down came a lanyard containing charms. Up went her new ring of keys. She placed the book about Boston on the side table next to her comfy sitting chair. Solina smiled. She wouldn’t have to do a swap for that until after she read it.
Sweet reprieve.
The toy tank proved to be more difficult. She paced in front of the case that held her wind-ups. The little bird? The race car? Perhaps she could squeeze it in and not remove a thing. No. That was not the deal. She needed to give something up in order to add a new item.
Her hand shook as she chose, finally relegating the car to her bag. Once she had the tank in place, her feeling of dread passed rapidly, as always happened when she added an acquisition to her collection.
With that difficult decision out of the way, she quickly plucked an array of silver spoons from the top of a cherrywood buffet and spread out her new fans. There. All taken care of, except for the little box. For that, she would make another allowance. Having already looked at it closely, she knew it was a puzzle box. It would be okay to explore its intricacies while eating a late dinner.
Contentment washed over her as she looked around at her controlled collection. A slow smile spread across Solina’s face. Success. And to top off her achievement, she hadn’t thought about the handsome Wiley since she came through the front door.
Oops. That record is now spoiled.
She thrust his rugged visage behind a stout portal and locked it tightly. There. He wouldn’t bother her again.
Her stomach chose that moment to rumble. She pulled open the refrigerator and looked at the packed interior. There were definitely some parts of her life that needed work. But, really, who would even see inside her fridge? Still, a few questionable odors wafted out and she knew she’d have to deal with the chaos soon. Just not tonight.
Eschewing its jumbled contents, she closed it and opened her freezer to have a gander.
Chicken tikka masala, palak paneer, or maybe just some good ol’ chicken fingers? What to serve with chicken fingers? Solina tapped a digit on her cheek and dug a little deeper…
Oh, hell no.
Wiley’s face darted into her head and she groaned. She’d never be able to eat another french fry again.
Chapter Three
Wiley sat for a long time and stared, not hearing the auctioneer or the crowd around him. What just happened? He’d been minding his own business, eating some damne
d good fried foods. Now he owned a four hundred dollar toy and couldn’t get his mind off of one incredibly lovely woman. Beauty. He knew it probably wasn’t polite to think of her in terms of her looks, but Wiley couldn’t help it. He didn’t know her personality. Didn’t know her at all. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t rectify the situation. He pulled the phone from his pocket, scrolled to his calendar, and typed in the word “auction” for next Monday at six. As if he’d forget. He must have snorted because his neighbor, Jan, gave him a sympathetic look.
“I agree with you, hon. No way that stuffed possum should have gone for that kind of money.”
When Wiley realized he hadn’t noticed the taxidermy in question, he knew it was time to leave. “Yeah. On that note, it’s time for me to be on my way.”
“Hope you come again. It’s mostly regulars here, so it’s nice to see a new face every now and then.”
Wiley took a chance. “Do you happen to know the name of the woman I sat next to? Is she a regular?”
Jan gave him a knowing smile. “Sorry, I can’t help you out. She’s been coming since last summer, but keeps to herself. Darned if I know anything about her.”
Whiskers leaned across his chatty wife. “Someone said she owns a small antique store in a town south of here, but that’s all I know.”
“You interested in her?” Jan’s eyes glinted. “She’s awfully pretty.”
“If I am, you’ll be the first to know,” he bantered back. Wiley, not known for shyness or being at a loss for words, continued. “If I decide to show up next week, you might want to dust off your wedding duds.” He winked.
Jan laughed, as he’d expected, but Wiley somehow thought the joke might just be on him.
****
The following day, he still hadn’t shaken off the image of a striking pair of dark eyes and long, lithe limbs as he entered the building that housed S.O.S., the company his friend, Del Songen, had started after they left the service a year ago. Songen Operational Systems conducted search and rescue. The team had quickly grown from just him and Del to include two more of their army buddies, Prez and Sarge. A few months ago, they’d added two additional full-time associates and a woman to answer the phones. During busy times, they called in a few part-time guys, who’d probably be fully on board within the year.