He frowned. “I don’t do that.” At my hard look, he shrugged. “All the time.”
“This time I’m the one who doesn’t believe you.” I hip-checked the door, but it didn’t budge against his hold. Why did he have to be strong in addition to everything else?
He handed the bag over. “Look, I’m not going to eat it. I prefer my sugar in the form of baked goods.”
My stomach growled. A long time ago, I’d had some of his mom’s desserts. She’d made a giant platter of Christmas cookies for the school program. Since Mom would’ve had no way of knowing if I ate any, I’d had five. The most delicious chocolate chip cookie I’d ever had on my tongue. I’d been trying to figure out the recipe ever since.
He jiggled the plastic bag, and I leaned back like it was full of venomous snakes.
“Christ, Madison. Do you think I’m that bad of a guy?”
“You haven’t shown me otherwise. I give you some bad news thinking I’m doing you a favor, and you make comments about how cheap I am.”
“I never said that!”
“‘I only let my tongue taste quality.’” My face burned from the memory of running into him last year in the coffee shop downtown.
He grimaced. “I was literally talking about the quality of the bourbon I make compared to what was sold here. As for the other thing.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. You gave me the shit news that my girlfriend was cheating on me with your brother, and I shot the messenger.”
Oh. I hadn’t prepared for an actual apology. “I would’ve wanted to know instead of being a fool.”
“I wasn’t a fool for not suspecting my partner of stepping out on me.”
“But it feels like you’re one when it happens.”
His nod was faint, then curiosity filled his gaze. Crap. I said too much, and it was the last thing I wanted to air out in front of him, or to commiserate with him. I could shoo him away and keep up the animosity, but I needed the sugar high before I faced the mess behind me. All I had was a water bottle and a ton of evaporated alcohol.
“Thanks.” I reached for his offering.
Just as I was taking the bag, a “Yoo-hoo” rang out.
I snatched the sack from Teller in case he got distracted and forgot about forcing it on me. He dropped his hand, not giving me a response.
Whoever it was had his hackles raised. His lips were flattened and he was stiff. I leaned out as Wilna rushed down the sidewalk. She was ninety-something, but I’d thought she was in her nineties most of my life. Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun and she carried a stack of papers.
Her eyes lit when she saw me. I was tempted to scurry away. Wilna had a way of putting everyone around her to work, and I had enough waiting for me.
“Oh, Madison. I’m so glad I caught you.” She whipped out a sheet of paper. “Can you post this in your establishment?”
“It’s not open.” When she blinked at me, I took a flyer anyway.
Next, she beamed at Teller and thrust a sizable portion of her stack in his direction. “Be a dear and distribute these, will you? Have to make sure everyone knows.”
Teller frowned at the papers. Wilna shoved them at his chest. He automatically put his hand on them, then cringed.
What had I missed? Teller always had a retort for me, but a tiny nonagenarian had him silenced?
The sheet was a poster announcing the annual bachelor auction, a fundraiser for shelters and food pantries in the area. Wilna and her crew also organized scholarships for ranchers during bad years and students who couldn’t afford college, and they put on holiday shindigs for the nursing home to ensure that any forgotten family members also got to celebrate.
A picture of Teller’s handsome, scowling face was plastered right in the middle with the wordsBid on a Bailey.
A chortle left me. “You’re getting auctioned this year?”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “For work.”
I snickered. “No one’s going to buy you forwork.”
Bachelors either auctioned off a day of labor or an actual date. Teller was the most eligible bachelor in the area. I wouldn’t be surprised if women from as far away as Helena came down. The auction was going to make a killing from Teller.
