“Tell that to your wife,” Gary quipped.
A woman yelled out, “Five dollars!”
“Ten dollars!”
“Eleven dollars!”
“Twentydollars!”
The basket sold for twenty-five and Gary banged his gavel and the man took the basket and offered his arm to his wife. She beamed up at him and rested her hand in the crookof his elbow. They wandered off, no doubt to enjoy the spoils of the picnic basket.
Brooks leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You’re going to bid high, right?”
“I don’t know,” I teased. “Is there anything chocolate in there?”
“You have to bid to find out.”
Gary lifted Brooks’ basket.
“We have here a lovely display,” Gary stated.
“It’s a blue ribbon,” Brooks yelled. “It’s masculine, not lovely.”
“Right you are, young man,” Gary said. “We’ll start the bidding at ten dollars.”
Salem shot me a wicked grin. “I bid twenty bucks!”
“Thirty,” Hadley bid with a cackle.
“Fifty!” Muddy shouted.
“Seventy-five!” Lucy cried.
“One hundred dollars!” I screamed.
The crowd clapped and Gary said, “Going once, going twice . . .soldto the lovely Poet for one hundred dollars!”
I met Brooks outside the tent, basket in hand.
“Let me take that for you,” Brooks said.
I handed him the basket. We found a clear spot on the grass, and I took a seat. Brooks sat down next to me and stretched out his long legs.
“Is it wrong that I like how possessive and feral you got at the end of that bidding war?” Brooks teased.
“Blame Salem. She started the bid high.”
Salem and Cas ambled toward us.
“You mind if we join you?” she asked.
“Not at all. Sit,” I said.
She looked at Cas. “You’re gonna have to help me up.”
He grinned. “I think I can handle it.”
They sat with us. And then Hadley and Declan came—with a chair for Hadley. Muddy, Lucy, my grandfather, Mr. Powell and Jane also added themselves to our party.
