If I could turn back time, I would. I’d go back to that board game cafe and keep my mouth shut about her letting me win because she has that fire in her eyes when she makes her ‘game on’ comment. You can tell this is her element, which probably means she’s got the advantage here.

“Twenty-four,” I raise my hand.

The auctioneer smirks at her assistant and points to me. We both know I won’t have the winning bid for long.

“Twenty-six.” The spitfire girl next to me raises her hand like an eager teacher’s pet.

Was she?

With no one else coming in to bid, I figure it must be only us.

“How high?” I whisper to her. “Twenty-eight,” I say.

“What? Why? I’m not telling you.” Her head is twisting between me and the auctioneer, her hand already back in the air. “Thirty.”

“Because we’re just raising the price up for one of us.”

“That’s the point,” she says out of the side of her mouth.

“We have thirty. Do we have thirty-one?” The auctioneer eyes me.

“If we go too high one of us isn’t going to make a dime,” I say.

“Then save me the trouble and bow out.”

“Thirty-one going once.” The gavel is in her hand, her eyes silently asking me.

“Fine. Have it your way.” I shrug. “Thirty-three.”

“There’s no rule about going up two k.” She sneers her arm extended. “Thirty-four.”

“Sorry, newbie and all.” I shrug.

Her blue eyes narrow and she bites her lip. I shift in my seat from the concentrated effort it takes for me not to lean in and take that lip of hers with my own teeth.

“Thirty-five.”

She huffs, her shoulders deflating in defeat for the first time since the opening bid.

We’re now way over the starting bid and if one of us wouldn’t have come, the other would have had it for twenty thousand.

“What are you thinking?” she whispers.

I can’t stop the cocky grin from forming on my lips. Not because I knew she’d bend to my way, but because she’s open to listening to my idea.

“I’m thinking we partner up.”

“WHAT?”

Now, this is the type of woman I could get under.

“I’m sure you plan on hiring a contractor.”

“We have thirty-five on the table. Anyone else?” The auctioneer is not leaving me much time to convince her.

“Yeah, so?”

“I can be our contractor. I know a million guys from the firehouses who are skilled at different trades. Not to mention, I told you I have good hands.” I hold them up for her to see.

“Thirty-five going twice.” The auctioneer is being nice and going a lot slower than she did with previous properties. She seems to have a soft spot for Madison.

“You’ll listen to me when it comes to budget and decorating decisions?” she asks, her eyes shifting from the gavel about to slam down making me the winner of the property.

I hold out my hand. “Sure thing, but you show me the ropes. We’re partners. Fifty, fifty.”

She stares into my eyes, for the first time not looking away. The softness of her hand slides into mine and I grip her hand. “Partners.” Her tone might not hold the declaration I was hoping for, but it’s a start.

She may not realize it yet, but she didn’t get the bad end of this agreement. I think she’ll be surprised by my skills.

“Sold.” The auctioneer points to me, smiling down at our entwined hands.

Madison retracts, and the air conditioning must have blasted on because goose bumps run up my spine.