Double Dare (23 page)

Lord, she felt good in his arms. “Quinn, you had better be sure about this.”

“You sound like Logan.”

Ty bit back a laugh. As funny as it was being accused of sounding like Logan, what Quinn was doing tonight was serious business. “Well, maybe he's right. Do you really want to alienate your family because they want you to be with that analyst geek?”

She gave him a light punch in the arm. “Hey! I'm an analyst geek.”

“Hardly.”

He moved her slowly around the dance floor, his fingers pressed into her hips.

“If my parents can't accept my decisions—can't accept me the way I am—then, well, to hell with them.”

“Quinn, they are your family.”

“Then they need to accept my choices. They need to let me choose who to love.”

Ty stopped again, catching her chin and tilting her head up. He squinted, looking deep into her eyes. She met his gaze defiantly, as if daring him to question her. He decided to let the comment go. The dance floor at a charity event—a crowded one at that—was no place to explore what her last comment meant.

“Why no earrings tonight?” she asked him.

“Because I leaned toward the more-conservative side tonight.”

“So you decided to change yourself to fit in?”

She was purposely challenging him. Ty bit back a curse. Instead he said, “Does it look like I fit in here?”

“Do
I
look like I fit in here?”

Where was she going with this? “Yes.”

“Well, that proves it: looks are deceiving.”

He snorted. “You can't judge a book by its cover?”

“Looks are only skin deep.”

“Beauty fades; stupidity lasts forever.”

Quinn threw her head back and laughed loudly, drawing more attention to them. Not that they already hadn't drawn enough attention. But her laughter made a little of the tension in his body disappear.

As the song changed again, he decided he'd had enough of trying to fake that he could dance. His whole point of asking her to dance was for some alone time and to feel her against him. A little something to tide him over until later. He had achieved his goal; now he could return her safely, with all her toes still intact.

He cupped her elbow, leading her from the dance floor. And directly into Long Arm Landis.

“Holy shit, T. Never would have expected to see you here.”

“How are you doing, Renny?”

Quinn looked from one man to the other. “Renny? I thought his name was Long Arm.”

Ty kept a grasp on Quinn's arm, holding her close to his side. “Ren, this is Quinn Preston. Quinn, this is Lawrence 'Long Arm' Landis. Known around the locker room as Ren or Renny. The public and the media nicknamed him Long Arm.”

Quinn eyed the other man's arms, which were encased in a very expensive tux. “His arms look like a normal length to me.”

Both of the men laughed.

“Where did you find her?” Renny asked him.

“His nickname comes from how far he throws on the field,” Ty explained to Quinn.

“Oh. Sorry.” Her cheeks were unmistakably pink.

Renny eyed Quinn's dress. Or rather, the lack thereof. Ty suddenly felt a bit protective. He was close with all his former teammates; they were like brothers. But not close enough to share. Logan was off-limits. And now so was Quinn.

That realization smacked Ty right between the eyes. Logan was right. She belonged with them. Any remaining doubts he'd held on to vanished.

“My agent didn't mention you'd be here. Hey, T, you find it a bit odd we are the only brothers here tonight?”

“We were just discussing that fact.”

“Are you here to sign autographs?”

“No. I'm here escorting Quinn.”

Ty's declaration drew Renny's attention back to Quinn. He gave her a big smile and leaned toward her, whispering, “You like dark meat?”

“Are we talking about a Thanksgiving turkey?” Quinn countered.

Renny laughed, his gaze raking over her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and back. “Wow. Looks and a sense of humor. Quite the package.” Renny fingered the sapphire. “Nice piece of bling.”

What was with that fucking sapphire? The next person who touched Quinn between her breasts was getting his fingers broken.

Ty stepped between him and Quinn, breaking the contact. “You can look, but you can't touch.”

“What's up, T? Is she yours?”

She's mine. She's Logan's.

“She's ours.”

She's ours.

Those two little words resonated through Quinn. They meant a lot to her. To be claimed outright like that felt good. Especially since she'd thought she was going to have to face this night by herself.

Ty's former teammate lifted his hands in front of him as if in surrender. “Hey, man, white looks good on you. No harm, no foul.”

The jury was still out on how Quinn felt about Ty's friend. He was a little overconfident, if not arrogant. But then, he was apparently a famous pro football player. And not a bad-looking one to boot.

Renny sure hadn't come dressed conservatively. He had a huge diamond solitaire in each ear. Quinn guessed they had to be two carats a piece. One of his long fingers sported a large square ring. She had been able to read the ring when he touched her sapphire. It said
World Champions
, and it was encrusted with diamonds and colored stones that looked like rubies, in the shape of a bulldog.

She wondered if Ty had one of those rings.

Even though Renny was dressed in a tux, he had a large gold cross hanging from his neck, and his dress shirt had the top two buttons undone. His cummerbund was Bulldog red. His hair was tightly braided into cornrows against his head. He had beautiful white teeth and large dark brown eyes.

And he was watching her checking him out.

Crap.

She didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

“So,” Renny asked, “what's with the
she's ours
?”

Quinn saw Ty's gaze bounce from Logan, who was still at the bar, to her, and back to Renny. A mix of emotions crossed Ty's face, and suddenly Quinn realized he was struggling with admitting the truth about his relationships. Or at least one in particular.

His former teammate had no idea Ty was in a relationship with—in love with—another man.

A lump formed in the pit of her stomach. By throwing her relationship in her parents' faces, in Peter's face, she was outing both Logan and Ty. She knew that. The boys had warned her about that. And she hadn't listened. Hadn't seriously thought about the consequences.

She slid an arm inside his jacket to hug his waist. The heat from his body was overly warm against her bare skin as she gave him a little squeeze.

She was such a selfish shit.

She never should have come. She never should have dragged them into this. Yes, they ultimately had decided to come on their own. But only to please her.

The sting of tears bit at the corners of her eyes. She looked up into Ty's face and said, “I'm sorry.”

He brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek and gave her a tender smile.

“Don't be. We wanted to be here for you.”

“But I didn't want you guys to be a sacrifice for my benefit.”

“We're not, Quinn. Believe me, we're not.”

The last came from Logan, who had moved up to join them, looking concerned.

“Is everything okay?” Logan asked.

Ty nodded. “Fine.”

He introduced Logan to Renny. The two men shook hands.

“I think I remember you. You laid the sod at our stadium. What are you doing here?”

Logan answered honestly. “I'm with Quinn.”

A look of confusion crossed Renny's features. “I don't get it. I thought T was with her.”

Quinn laid a hand against Logan's chest. An unspoken warning that they did not have to do this. They did not have to go through with this tonight.

Logan went on anyway. “He is. We both are.”

It took a minute, but finally the confusion cleared from Renny's face. But not for long. “So you guys are escorts.”

Quinn opened her mouth to say something, to stop them. But Logan put a hand over hers and squeezed. Her breath caught, and she helplessly watched everything unfold before her.

Ty shook his head, looking directly into Renny's eyes. “No, we're lovers,” he said.

“Yeah, I get it. You and Quinn are doing the bump and grind. So how does he”—he nodded his head toward Logan—“fit in?”

Logan brushed a piece of imaginary lint off Ty's shoulder. “Like he said. We're lovers.”

Renny stepped back, his eyes widening. “Wait. Wait.” He did a complete circle in place, stomping his feet and smacking his palms on his thighs. Then he planted his hands planted on his hips and stared at Ty. He opened his mouth and a second later closed it, before opening it once more. “T… Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Ty answered softly.

“Damn, man. Wow.”

Quinn decided it was time to step in. “
Wow
just about describes our relationship perfectly.”

The overhead lights flashed a couple of times to get the attendees' attention. The lights lowered to a more-ambient glow. A man Quinn didn't know was at the microphone on the stage, a soft spotlight shining off his bald head.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's turnout for the House to Home Charity Monte Carlo Night has been exceptional. Thank you to the Mandolin Bay Country Club for allowing us to hold it here, and special thanks to the Society Ladies' Charity Club for all their hard work. Now, if you'd all take your seats, we'd like to get the bachelor/bachelorette auction started.”

A low murmur came from the crowd as they moved away from the gambling tables along the outer walls toward the round banquet tables surrounding the dance floor.

The man continued. “When we are finished with that, dinner will be served, followed by the reopening of the gaming tables. At that time, our local celebrities will be signing autographs and posing for pictures. And we have a special treat for our sports fanatics. Long Arm Landis is with us tonight.”

A spotlight came from nowhere to shine on Renny. He pasted on a smile, covering up the fact he was still in shock, and gave a slight wave. Polite clapping came from around the large room.

As soon as the spotlight cut off from Renny, they all moved to the nearest empty table and sank into chairs. Ty and Logan flanked Quinn, while Renny settled to Ty's right.

Quinn adjusted her dress to make sure she wasn't giving the event goers a free show as the announcer continued with his speech.

“Just a reminder, the House to Home Charity needs your generous donations to continue to benefit the needy. This charity was put in place to help rebuild homes for the victims of natural disasters. Disasters which include hurricanes, like Hurricane Katrina, earthquakes, tornadoes, and mud slides. Just about any type of natural disaster. So without further ado, we will begin the auction…”

One by one, local celebrities, like newscasters, sports figures from local farm teams, and high-profile businesspeople, were called to the stage to be “sold” to the highest bidder. The winner received a date of their choice with the auctionee. It could consist of dinner or a movie, or just a meeting at a coffee shop.

When Logan suddenly nudged Quinn in the ribs, she realized she had stopped paying attention to what was happening on the stage.

Logan whispered against her ear, “You're up.”

Quinn looked up at the announcer, who was doing double duty as the auctioneer. He was holding an arm out toward her, beckoning her to the stage.

“Ms. Preston is the daughter of Margaret Preston, the president of the Society Ladies' Charity Club. Her father is Charles Preston, retired senior partner of Morgan, Morgan and Chandler Accountants, one of the top ten accounting firms in the world.”

Quinn felt self-conscious as she carefully made her way up to the stage. Okay, they had proved her blood was blue. Now did they want to check her teeth too?

“Ms. Preston is a senior financial analyst for the insurance firm of Anderson, Jameson and Coleman, LLC.”

When she approached the microphone, she leaned into it and asked, “Would you like my weight, height, and age too?”

Chuckles came from the crowd, which she could not see because of the damn spotlight blinding her. From nowhere, someone shoved a large cardboard check into her hands, almost making her lose her balance.

“In addition to graciously agreeing to be one of our auctionees, Ms. Preston is presenting a donation check for one hundred thousand dollars from her firm.”

Jesus, she'd had no idea how much Frank and the senior partners had donated. Her mother must have put the screws to him. She'd have to apologize to her boss on Monday.

In honor of the donation, the crowd did a courtesy clap, setting Quinn's teeth on edge. The man took the check from Quinn and leaned it against one of the amplifiers. “Now on to what all the gentlemen have been waiting for. How much will the bidding start for this beautiful lady?”

Dead silence met him, and panic started to creep up on her.

Then a lone voice yelled out, “Five hundred dollars!”

Five hundred? What the hell? The men had been bringing in thousands. And what was worse was that she didn't even recognize the voice.

The auctioneer said, “Okay, the bidding has started at five hundred dollars.”

Quinn's father shouted, “One thousand.”

“One thousand to Mr. Preston.”

“Two thousand.” As expected, Peter joined in on the bidding.

Her mother had conveniently volunteered her so Peter could win her. And of course, Peter did as Quinn expected… He didn't have the balls to go against Quinn's mother.

Well, he wouldn't win her, and if he did, she was going to make sure he spent a fortune.

“Twenty-five hundred.”

Was that Renny? Shit.

Peter quickly countered with three thousand dollars.

Renny immediately upped the stakes to five thousand.

Renny was effectively putting a wrench into Quinn's plans. She had never expected him to bid on her.

With one more bidder than expected—hell, with her father, it was two—things were quickly getting out of hand. More out of control than she wanted. Before the evening she had expected the bidding to go no higher than a few hundred dollars. Then after the earlier auctionees had been won, she figured a couple of thousand at the most. But nothing like this.

Her father's voice rang out again. “Ten thousand.”

Before she could stop herself, Quinn shouted, “Dad!”

Why would her father want to outbid Peter? Didn't he want her with Peter just like her mother did? Didn't they both think they knew what was best for her?

Peter, sounding a bit panicked, bid ten thousand five hundred.

The crowd became restless; she heard murmurs but could not make out what people were saying. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare, desperately trying to see out into the sea of tables.

She met Logan's eyes from a distance. He slowly got to his feet, not breaking their gaze.

“Twenty thousand.”

Quinn sucked in a breath, and the blood rushed from her face. She had wanted the boys to win her. But not at this high of a price.

Never at this high of a price. Their business was still developing. They needed that money.

Peter jumped to his feet, his chair falling backward, clattering onto the floor. He was two tables away from her boys. “Twenty-two thousand.”

Quinn pressed a hand to her chest. “
Jesus, stop
,” she whispered, but no one heard her.

Renny, still sitting, brought the bidding up to twenty-five thousand. He barked out a laugh as if he was just as surprised as the crowd was at what he had just done.

The murmuring got louder throughout the crowd. All eyes were on the standing men, who were now challenging each other just with their body language.

Peter's gaze darted to Renny. “Twenty-six thousand.”

The auctioneer had quit repeating the bids. He stood as helplessly on the stage as did Quinn. The microphone flopped by its cord from between his fingers.

Ty's chair scraped backward as he rose to stand next to Logan. He placed a hand on Logan's shoulder and shot Quinn a grin.

She wanted to scream
no
. She couldn't. She wanted to tell Logan, tell Ty, to let Renny and Peter just fight it out between them. Her mouth refused to work.