A Man for All Seasons. HEATHER MACALLISTER

requiring clothes?”

      “You mean like a sports uniform?”

      “Yes.” Ty thought about baseball. “Exactly.”

      Marlie brought up the next picture. “Behold. Seven Swans a Swimming.” She glanced up with mock innocence. “Check out the uniforms.”

      Speedos. Speedos worn by men with no body fat. Or modesty. “The entire swim team?”

      “No,” Marlie said, her voice regretful. “Just him.” She cropped the other men out and enlarged the remaining swimmer, not that he needed enlarging, a point amply made by the skin-tight suit. “But he’s enough, don’t you think?”

      “Yes. Plenty.” Which one of them had been afraid no one would bid on him? Sheesh. Ty didn’t lack for self-confidence, but these guys were enough to make him add another mile to his morning run.

      “And he’s a breast stroke champion. I should put that in the caption.”

      “Marlie.” Tyler began to sweat. He’d never seen this side of her. He didn’t know she had this side. She should keep this side to herself. He didn’t want to be responsible.

      He wasn’t responsible, was he?

      “What?”

      Eight maids a milking was up next and Ty could only imagine. “How is it possible for you to make ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ sound smutty?”

      “Smutty?” Marlie looked the picture of offended virtue. “Tyler, these men are donating their time in an effort to raise money for a program that provides a positive activity for underprivileged youth when they’re most vulnerable to bad influences. What exactly do you find smutty about that?”

      “I—”

      “Furthermore, I’ve been posting all these auction items and I’ve yet to see what you’ve donated. Don’t you support the business mentors program?”

      “I donated you,” he said.

      Marlie blinked. “Excuse me?”

      He gestured to the screen. “I suggested you for the website, since you do Axelle’s restaurant already.”

      Marlie’s eyes narrowed. “You mean I do the work and you get the credit?”

      How did he end up the bad guy, here? “I’m covering the expenses for the site and your fee after the discount.”

      “Oh.” She looked back to the screen. “I’d like to tell you to forget about my fee, but I need the money.”

      “No problem. You’ve put in a lot of hours and it wasn’t really your cause to begin with.” Or his, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worthwhile. “You should find a cause. Volunteering would be a good way for you to interact with people.” And by people, he meant men. And by interact, he meant talking in a controlled setting that was not a bar.

      “I’m volunteering right now.” Marlie had flipped into her photo editing program and was removing background clutter from the crop of the swimmer. “And I am so interacting.” She zoomed in on his head and removed the red rings his goggles had left around his eyes. “There. Not that anyone is going to be looking at his face.”

      Ty hadn’t known Marlie was so visual. “I meant interacting in person.”

      “I’m all for that.” She sighed at the picture.

      “Then volunteer for something other than computer work,” Ty said. “Something that gets you out of the house.” He got an idea. “In fact, why don’t you come with Axelle and me to the auction on Friday? You’ll get a chance to see everything first hand.” And maybe Axelle could set her up with someone. Axelle knew everyone. Yeah, they could introduce Marlie to as many men as possible. One of them was bound to ask her out. Brilliant. Tyler Burton, you are brilliant.

      Marlie’s ponytail brushed against his arm and he looked down. She had an appealing casual vibe, but maybe Axelle could give her some tips about her hair before Friday. Figure out a way to contain it. Maybe lend her some lip gloss.

      “I can’t go,” Marlie said. “We’re streaming the auction live, remember? I have to monitor it from here.”

      Too bad. He’d practically had her married off.

      “I’ll get to see everything Friday afternoon when Randy and I set up the webcams.”

      “Randy?”

      “Computer geek.” Marlie clicked through to Nine Lords a Leaping.

      A guy in a black Dominion of Zartha T-shirt posed against a stone wall, crossed arms displaying biceps not normally associated with computer geeks. At least he was clothed.

      “He’ll have a laptop down front at the auction. Our computers will be networked so I can control the webcams from here and Randy will be able to relay the online bids to the auctioneer.”

      “Axelle,” Ty supplied.

      “She decided to do it herself?” Marlie made a sound. “I thought she was going to ask someone else.” Her eyes met his.

      “Me?”

      Marlie shrugged. “She wasn’t specific.”

      Axelle had never come out and asked him. Had she expected Ty to offer to be the auctioneer? “I’ve never done anything like that before. This is a big deal. She should have gotten someone with experience.”

      “Whatever.”

      Did Axelle feel that he’d let her down? It was hard to figure out what she was thinking or wanted from him.

      Marlie turned back to the computer. “By the way, she’s coming here to change clothes before the auction. It’ll save you a trip to pick her up.”

      “Sounds good.” At least Axelle would be able to introduce Marlie around during the afternoon before people got dressed up. A casual setting was more Marlie’s style, anyway.

      There was a knock on the door jamb and one of the carpenters stuck his head in. “We’ve got it all, Marlie. We patched the holes where the brackets held the frame to the wall. I’d give it a day to dry before you paint over it.”

      “Okay.”

      “And thanks again!”

      She gave a distracted wave and he let himself out.