Bid Me Now Read Online Free Page A

sweetie, you don’t have a type. When did you last go out or get laid? Why not Dr. Carter? He’ll give you a good physical.”  
    Miri put on her “that’s so disgusting” face as Bree pumped her hips suggestively. “You’re crude, Bree Matson.”  
    But crude or not, Bree was right. Miri didn’t go out much, and as for getting laid? Actually, never. But then, trips to the market, the gym, and Body Beautiful for pedicures and waxes didn’t exactly open a path to romance. Of course, she did go out for coffee, but that was just maintenance.  
    Maybe if she had a good “physical,” as Bree put it, she might have stopped her under-used sex hormones from going into hyper-drive in Nick Brannagh’s office. She’d drooled over every inch of him, and he’d known it.  
    But him aside, it was the loss of the mill that really hurt. Her dream was gone. It had taken every ounce of strength since the death of her parents two years ago to get this far. Now, two months past her twenty-fourth birthday, she was finally ready to invest some of her inheritance. Her two New York exhibitions had been so successful that she could hardly keep up with the lucrative commissions now rolling in, so the time was right to set up a fully equipped working studio.  
    From the day the mill went up for sale, she’d started planning. Where the studio would be situated. The exhibition space. The combined art supplies and book shop and small café. The smart website with an image of the mill displayed on the home page with links to information about upcoming exhibitions, an online shop, and art blog.  
    Looking around the converted sunroom at the back of her parents’ house, she wondered how much more art welding equipment, pots, paints, materials, and books could be crammed in without having to knock the walls down. As it was, the sunroom had been fully strengthened and fireproofed, and the roof raised. The only pretty feature left was the French doors that opened out to the terrace and cottage garden.  
    The front door chimed.
    “That’ll be the takeout,” yelled Bree over her shoulder as she disappeared into the passage.
    “Okay,” Miri yelled back, shuffling through to the adjoining kitchen to get things ready and turn on the coffee machine. Not doing anything could still work up an appetite.
    Her parents had purchased the huge two-story Cape Cod house overlooking Charmford Harbor within weeks of the family’s arrival from the United Kingdom eight years ago. Apart from her studio, Miri’s favorite part of the house was the warm, welcoming kitchen, originally designed to flow through to the sunroom for year-round dining. She hadn’t changed a single feature in the kitchen, even though it needed some redecorating after eight years. The expansive wooden countertops, huge oak kitchen table, country-style cabinets, and large bay window with the faded chintz-covered window seat and cushions were so integral to the house, Miri couldn’t imagine it any other way.  
    Bree set out the packets of Chinese food and poured the wine while Miri found chopsticks and paper napkins.  
    They sat down to eat.
    “I know you don’t want to talk about it , but I ran into Amber today, a maid-of-honor at one of last year’s horror weddings. Anyway, she now works at the Endeavour Hotel.”  
    Miri scowled down at her plate. “You’re right, I don’t want to talk about it .”  
    “Well,” Bree breezed on, “Nick Brannagh and his foreman or whatever they call those construction types are staying there. She said he’s gorgeous. Nick, that is, not the foreman.”
    Miri looked up to find Bree’s eyes fixed on hers like a set of crosshairs. “What? What do you want me to say? I already told you he was youngish and quite good-looking.”  
    “‘Quite good-looking’! According to Amber, he’s one big sex-on-a-stick. No wonder you came home with a face like a beet! What’s he really like?”
    “Just as I said.”
    “Oh, pleeease tell me all