Can't Buy My Love

He thought he bought a date. What he gets is trouble of the sexiest kind.

Think of the children. Think of the children.
This is Jessica’s mantra when her grandma talks her into signing up for the “Buy a Dame” fundraiser that supports their small town’s public schools.

After submitting to a total makeover, she has to admit she looks kind of hot. She’s pretty sure she blends in with the younger women—until her turn on the block is met with nothing but crickets. The bid that finally comes from the roughly sexy, tattooed biker leaning lazily against the auditorium’s back wall is totally unexpected. So are the plans he has in store.

Josh Thomas came to Leaf Island after his grandpa died to do some heavy thinking, not to buy a woman for the weekend—then wind up falling hard for her. Though she seems equally drawn to him, there’s a secret he’s hiding. One that could send her running faster than his Harley can go from zero to sixty.

This book has been previously published.

Warning: This book contains all the ingredients for a decidedly non-PG weekend: a bad boy who likes things hot and sweet, and a woman who hasn’t, um,
cooked
in quite a while.

Can’t Buy My Love

Shelli Stevens

Chapter One

“I had sex again last night. This time with Mr. Walden three rooms down.”

I didn’t want to hear this. God, I didn’t want to hear this. We strolled down the produce aisle at the Grocery Guru and I grabbed a peach, pretending to check its damage.

“I do have to say, he wasn’t nearly as proficient in bed as Mr. Nickels was last month… Jessica Davis, are you even listening to me?”

Okay, obviously feigning indifference wasn’t going to work with her. “Yes, I’m listening, Grams. You had sex with Mr. Walden.”

My grandma gave a quiet harrumph and shot me a skeptical look. “It just doesn’t make sense. Surely if someone my age can have a healthy sex life, then someone as virile as you should be getting some too.”

Getting some?
God, when would she quit?

My friends seemed to think it was great that I had a grandma who was still comfortable with her own sexuality and even acted on it. But being on the receiving end of constant sex stories and talks about improving one’s love life just wasn’t that fabulous.

“You know, there’s this young man who works in the Peaceful Woods cafeteria.” She gave me a thoughtful look and I could practically hear the wheels in her head turning. “You should let me introduce you to him. He seems young and healthy. Why, I bet he’d have wonderful stamina.”

Okay, surely she wasn’t talking about the pimply faced kid who’d just turned twenty-one a few months ago. I’d been there when the entire community of senior citizens had thrown him an impromptu party. Brought him balloons shaped like beer bottles, a bag of condoms, and then pinned a button on his shirt that said, “Trust me, I’m legal.”

“Maybe you’ve seen him? His name’s Andy. Red hair, pretty blue eyes…”

Yup. She was definitely talking about the kid. I wasn’t sure why my grandma was so determined to set me up, but for God’s sake, couldn’t she pick someone who wasn’t a decade younger than me?

“Hey, grab me a couple of those avocados, Jessie, and make sure they’re squishy. I don’t like them too hard.” She poked me in the ribs with her cane and guffawed. “Well, my fruit that is.”

I obliged her request and swallowed a groan. Could this have sucked a little more? I mean, I loved my grandma, but, seriously, there was a line and Grams was notorious at crossing it.

“Anyway, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Another one? I’m still trying to recover from the last one.” Chaperoning a dance full of senior citizens. I swear there was something in the water at Peaceful Woods, because the folks there were the horniest batch of AARP members I’d ever seen. “Okay, what’s up, Grams?”

“Do you remember the Buy a Dame
auction that happens every summer?”

Yuck. How could I forget?

The auction was a notorious fundraiser that the town put on every August to raise money for the public schools. Women dressed up in revealing clothing and paraded in front of the single male population on Leaf Island. Overall, it was a bit sleazy, with the highest bidder getting to keep the woman for twenty-four hours. The men loved it, and the women who were within the age of participation usually scrambled to get in.

Technically, it was supposed to be rather innocent. Just cooking, cleaning, and a woman to take out on the town—there were no sexual expectations. But I knew for a fact more than one woman had met their husband that way.

Gotta love life in small towns. Thank God I was too old for that kind of pony show though.

“I’m the one hard of hearing, not you. Answer me, girl. You remember that auction?”

I smiled at the produce boy who was arranging the apples, and tried not to get annoyed by her tone. “I remember it. What’s going on?”

“We’re short of girls this year.”

Ah, I’d forgotten Grams was on the committee. Had Leaf Island never had the auction? What would they do if they were short of women? Would they cancel it? Though I hated the auction itself, I knew the money went to a good cause.

“Are you going to have to cancel?”

“No. I want you to go up for auction.”

I clenched my fingers around the red apple I was loading into a plastic bag. Surely, I heard that wrong. But just in case I hadn’t, “I’m too old, Grams.”

“Bah!” She rolled her eyes. “I spoke to the committee and they’re willing to make an exception for you. You’re thirty-one so you only missed the cutoff by one year. You’re pretty enough—have good skin. And you could probably pass for twenty-nine.”

Pretty enough? I bristled. “I don’t think so, Grams. You know I love you and would do almost anything for you. But I draw the line at being pimped out for an auction.”

“Oh, but…” Her lips started to tremble and she shook her head. “Think of the children. The school district has already gone through most of their allotted budget, and if—”

“All right.” Jeez, she sure knew where my guilt button was. I adored kids, and thoroughly planned on popping out some of my own. Grams knew that all too well. “I suppose I could do it. When is it?”

The moment the words left my mouth I regretted them. Why? Why had I just agreed to do it?

“Wonderful! I figured you’d say yes, so I signed you up. The auction is later today down at the senior center.”

My stomach clenched, and my hands got sweaty. I didn’t even have time to be pissed that she’d already signed me up. “Today? I couldn’t possibly be ready that soon.”

“Sure you could. I have an appointment booked at Betty’s Beauty Boutique in a half hour. She’s going to give you a manicure, pedicure, and wax your eyebrows.”

“Wax my eyebrows?” Heat spread up into my face. Oh God. I’d never even taken tweezers to those suckers. And now she wanted someone to dump hot wax on them before ripping them off my face?

“You know, I changed my mind. This really isn’t my thing. I’m not auction material—I’m an accountant.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Grams straightened to her whole five-foot-one height and glared up at me. “You have the potential to be a beautiful woman who knows how to have fun. And it’s about time you realize it.”

Potential to be beautiful? I glanced at the mirrored walls above the bananas. Was I so bad to begin with? My brown hair wasn’t too exciting, but it was long and it had never garnered any complaints. I had contacts if I chose to wear them, but glasses were just easier.

“Come on, girl, my ice cream is melting. And we need to get you to Betty.”

And just like that, my night and possibly the next two days were lined up for me.

Chapter Two

Just a few hours later, I stood in a back room at the senior center, now dubbed the dressing room. I stared in the mirror, poking at my face and fluffing my new shoulder length cut. It was incredible. Grams had been right. I was actually pretty. Not just passable, but pretty.

The area around my eyebrows was still slightly red from being waxed and plucked to trendy standards. And damn if they didn’t look good. With my unibrow gone and my arch perfected—who knew there was a technique to the arch?—my blue eyes really stood out. Especially since I now wore contacts.

Anna Emmerson, who at twenty-one had just turned of age to participate in the auction, shouldered me out of the way so she could look in the mirror.

“I hope Matt Donaldson bids on me. He’s loaded and just going through a divorce.”

“Yeah, because he’s addicted to prescription pain meds,” I muttered under my breath.

“You aren’t going up for auction, are you?” she asked me while stroking on enough eyeliner to look like she’d been in a fight.

“Actually, I am.”

“Oh. You’re kind of fa…old.”

My vision blurred and I could feel my blood pressure rise. She’d been about to call me fat. Fat! I was a size twelve, the nationwide average nowadays. Or was it fourteen? Why was I doing this auction again?

“All right, 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 up for this auction.

“And last, we have Jessica Davis, my lovely granddaughter.”

Ah, finally my turn. Placing a hand on my hip, I stepped forward with an “I’m the next Miss America” grin, and waited to hear the bids shouted out.

This was it. This was my moment of glory. This was…dead silence.

My smile froze a bit as I glanced around the room. Had I suddenly lost my hearing? Most of the men were looking at me like I was the horse that might have to be put down. A handful of guys even got up and left.

Cold sweat broke out over my body, as panic caused my pulse to skyrocket. Oh God. It was actually happening. The reason I’d never bothered to sign up for this auction before. The fear that nobody would bid on me.

There was literally nobody bidding on me.

Grams cleared her throat. “Jessie makes a wonderful apple pie from scratch. Don’t you, Jess?”

I’d never made a pie in my life. I could barely manage to push a frozen Sara Lee in the oven.

“Sure,” I mumbled, my lips numb even though I kept smiling. A few of the girls behind me snickered and my cheeks burned. I wanted the stage to just crack and swallow me whole.

“Four dollars and fifty cents.” A shaky voice finally rang out.

Grams sighed. “Oh, dear. Mr. Smith, this isn’t a bargaining auction. Bidding must
actually start
at five dollars.”

“All right, fine. Five dollars then,” he grumbled. More giggling came from behind me.

Waldo Smith? My stomach dropped and I wanted to jump off the stage to end my misery. Heck, I’d risk a broken leg to escape him him any day.

Waldo Smith was, like, eighty years old. I’d heard the horrific stories from the girls in the dressing room. Waldo’s sole purpose of buying a girl was to have her read him stories in dirty magazines and wash down his urine-saturated bathroom.

“Wonderful. Do I hear five dollars and fifty cents?”

Dead silence. It was so quiet you could hear the ticking from the grandfather clock in the back. Somebody sneezed. This was it. I was going to spend my time mopping up piss when I wasn’t busy narrating porn.

“Come on, boys, do it for the children!” Grams begged. “Or there’ll be no new books next year.” A few more men got up and left, rather than face the guilt trip from Grams.

I lowered my head. All of a sudden, I didn’t feel so pretty anymore. Obviously, a makeover and a nice dress hadn’t done an ounce of good. Nobody wanted me except a dirty old man that couldn’t hit the toilet.

“One thousand dollars.” A voice ripped through the silence, reverberating in the room.

“Sold!” Grams yelled.

My chin jerked up as my jaw dropped and my eyes went wide. Who the hell had just paid one thousand dollars for me? For me! I looked around the room, desperate to find the voice. The whispers behind me went rampant.

“Did he just say one thousand dollars?”

“Do you see him? Oh my God! He looks like a Hell’s Angel.”

“I’d rather have Mr. Smith.”

I finally found him, leaning against the wall in the back. The same lazy smile on his face that he’d had in the hallway a short time ago. Mr. Tattoo had just bought me.