The Highest Bidder Read Online Free PDF

around, tinkering, making small noises. Not being alone – how much had she craved the sound of another body on slow quiet Sunday mornings?

    Her phone burbled again and she read:

    DONT. NICK IS A GOOD GUY. NICE. SWEET. HOT AS HELL! IT’S TIME 4U TO DO THIS. NO GUILT!

    She typed Kk, their signature sign off meaning OK–OK! and shut the phone. She would go home and process this. Casey needed to figure out if this was a favour to her friend or a pity fuck or … what.
    He came in and she started, dropping the phone at her feet.
    ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to–’
    There was a knock at the door and they both turned. Her first thought was Annie but then he said, ‘Damn. That must be my Chinese. Only a half hour or so late. Hungry?’
    ‘No. Um … you get the door,’ she said, taking the glasses he passed off.
    Casey set them on the table and started to frantically shove her legs in her panties and jeans. She needed to get dressed and get out of here. She couldn’t seem to breathe. Not at all.
    She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath, forcing herself to hold it for a count of four before blowing it out. A trick the grief counsellor had taught her after Brendan died. It regulated your heart, gave you a boost of some chemical she couldn’t remember and basically calmed you down.
    When he came back with a bag of food, smiling like he loved the fact that she was here, her heart nearly broke.
    ‘Hey, thanks but I … I have to go. I just remembered …’ She shook her heard. What? What had she just remembered? That she couldn’t handle this. That she’d left the gas on. That she was on the verge of crying again and was mortified by it. ‘… that I have to go,’ she finished weakly.
    ‘Casey–’ he started.
    ‘It’s fine! It’s good! Thanks so much for the um …’ she wiggled her finger at the sofa. What? The sex? The orgasms? The fucking.
    She was really bad at this.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, hearing the emotion amping up in her voice and hating it. ‘I just really have to go.’
    She grabbed her phone from the floor and her purse and rushed past him before he could touch her. If he touched her, she would crumble. Casey was sure of it.
    ‘Casey!’ he called out after her as she headed for the stairwell. No time for the elevator. ‘It’s OK!’
    She didn’t stop. She hit the metal bar going full speed and started taking the steps as fast as she could.

    Nick put the bag down, suddenly not hungry. He didn’t know what to do. Stop her or not stop her. This wasn’t just some fickle thing – this was a woman recovering from loss and he didn’t want to push her.
    Annie had filled him in just enough to know that what Casey had had with her late husband had been a bit of a fairy tale love. And he didn’t want to disrespect her memories or feelings by rushing after her like they were in some romance movie.
    He rummaged through the paperwork for the charity auction on the breakfast bar. Casey’s number was printed at the top along with: “Please call or text with any questions.”
    He dialled, knowing in his gut she wasn’t going to answer, but having to do this anyway. It had been ages since he’d been moved by a woman. Not just the way she looked, but by the way she acted, talked, smelled, laughed.
    He’d seen something in her shyly horrified and yet bold expression when she’d hurt her ankle and inadvertently aroused him.
    That was a woman he wanted to be around. To get to know.
    And the feel and smell and remembrance of being inside of her, feeling her come, was enough to make his fingers stiff and clumsy as he dialled.
    When her message came on – he knew she wouldn’t answer – he momentarily froze. Forgetting everything he was going to say and then some.
    Finally, fearing the message would click off leaving her only with silence, he said, ‘Hey … .listen. I’m sorry if I … did anything to make you feel bad. I loved being with you. I want to be with you more. Even just,