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me every step of the way last night.”
    Her eyes snapped to him. “And wipe that grin off your face.”
    Easing the truck into gear, he saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”
    God, his balls hurt like a son of a bitch. The little tease made him harder than an iron girder in a skyscraper. She kept flirting with those sexy brown eyes and killer smile then pulling back when a guy tried to take her up on it.
    He’d been walking around with a boner ever since he’d seen the picture in this morning’s paper—her heart-shaped ass with that red material clinging to it like saran wrap, outlining every lush inch of it, slung over an Arnold-type shoulder with the guy’s hand very near where he wanted his own to be. Augie imagined the feel of her crack as his hand ran up and down the valley between her ass cheeks, driving her wild with each stroke. Especially if she was damn near helpless, like she was in the picture.
    One of these days, he was sure, she’d give in to him. No one resisted a Quillan for long. He’d just have to bide his time and keep on her good side. Which reminded him. He’d better apologize.
    “Hey, Crys, I’m sorry. I let my imagination run away from me.” He tossed her one of his naughty-little-boy half-smiles that had gotten more debutantes to spread their legs for him than he could count. “You gotta admit, though. That picture’s gonna sell a lot of newspapers.”
    There it was again, her cheeks going all red. Why would something like that make a woman blush? Hell, surely she knew she had everything a man would want. Not just an ass made in heaven, but the headlights too. He’d bumped up against her, accidentally on purpose, enough times to know she hadn’t had a boob job.
    “I promise. It won’t happen again, Crys. I like helping out, ‘cause I’m learning so much about the business side of antiquing. We got shit like that all around the house, but to me it’s just, you know, things to sit on or to store stuff in. You’re showing me all kinds of little tricks to pick out what’s worth bidding on.”
    She turned to him, a small smile chasing away her scowl. Good. Distract her by talking about things she likes.
    “I do get a kick out of finding a treasure in someone’s attic,” she said.
    “But I’ll never know as much about it as you do. You seem to have a knack.”
    “You forget, Augie. I grew up with that ‘stuff’ too. We were just interested in different things.”

    He let his eyes rove shamelessly over her body, her arms now relaxed in her lap rather than tightly crossed over her chest. Then he looked up at her and grinned. “Yeah. You don’t look much like a football player.”
    Damn, there it was again. It was way too easy to make her blush. She punched him ineffectually on his biceps. “Stop that.”
    Augie didn’t respond. They had arrived at her grandmother’s house. He swore as he eyed the black Escalade in the sweeping driveway near the front steps. “Your gramma don’t watch out, she’s gonna be the next Mrs. Courtland A. Quillan the Third.”
    Crystal laughed. “Don’t be silly. She’s a dozen years older than your dad.”
    “Yeah, but don’t forget, she’s rich. So were his three other wives.”
    “You’re so cynical for such a young man. They’re probably discussing last night’s Bachelor Auction.”
    Then her smile dimmed. Thinking, no doubt, about how she’d exited said auction.
    He pulled the truck behind the SUV until he nudged it with his rusty front bumper. It was the most disrespect he could get away with at the moment without jeopardizing his allowance. He shifted gears, turned off the ignition and jumped out to give Crystal a hand with the dismount. He loved this old truck. It was so high off the ground, women almost always waited for an assist from his two big, willing hands.
    And usually got a kick out of sliding down his hard young body on the way to the ground.
    Crystal was a good deal shorter than he, but she was ready to jump down when he