The Auction: Young Adult Romance, New Adult Romance, Forbidden Love (Magnolia Grove Book 1) (6 page)

Tonight, there’s no hand holding. Technically, there’s nothing to win and everything to lose. At least for me. It’s no secret that Charity’s in love with Holden. She always has been. But after what happened in the cabana, I’m positive that’s not reciprocated by him.

My heart falls. Maybe he’s exactly what I think he is. He bid on a package. One that’s different than Oliver’s. What if he wanted to get Charity’s all along. Was this some kind of a joke between them? Yeah, I bet he’s exactly what I thought he was.

A cocky asshole player bastard.

I smirk. Only I could manage to come up with a nickname for Holden that had cock and ass back to back.

But my stomach starts to roll again, waiting to see who won Amie’s package. I suck in air to fill my lungs, then release a sigh. Brendon Bennett, Amie’s fiancé, steps forward. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he offers his hand to Amie before she exits the stage. The crowd claps and chants, “Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.” Brendon leans down, dipping her, and their lips lock. My hands come together slowly and methodically just like my pageant coach taught me, a tinge of envy pitting itself deep within me. Every girl dreams their entire life of a man looking at her the way Brendon does at Amie. I’m happy for her. Just a little envious. Because I’m realizing in this exact moment that Oliver has never held that much regard for me.

The percussion increases in volume and intensity the longer we wait. “Next up is a day of hiking, fishing, and dinner by the campfire. Would the lady with the receipt ending in zero seven twenty-eight please step forward.”

Holding my breath as my gaze goes back and forth between Holden and Oliver, I’m frozen in place. This isn’t my package, either. Because hiking is basically exercising. I don’t like slimy things, and I definitely don’t like bug bites or the smell of bug spray.

Let’s say Holden did win this package of Charity’s. Am I overthinking all this? That doesn’t mean he was conspiring with her against me. It doesn’t mean he was trying to hurt me. Maybe he thinks I like all those things. I mean, it’s been a long time since we spent any quality time together. Our families used to go on hiking trips. Maybe that’s why I hate them so much.

And he’s been known to be an ass, a tease. Who’s to say that he’s not made me his own personal entertainment for the evening? That sounds like something the troublemaker would do. And goodness knows he made plenty of trouble in high school.

But nothing compared to what his father did.

I’ve known him for a long time, but surely some things are simply innate. Perhaps trusting Holden Masters could be just as catastrophic as it proved to be for his mother.

I blow out a breath through my smile. Of course, the only person left to step forward is Charity, and she does. Unlike in pageants, the last one standing is not the winner because I’m the one with the crushed dreams. My eyes avert from her to Oliver.

He shrugs and mouths, “Sorry, babe.” Then, he stands, walks to the stage, and helps Charity down.

What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?

I gulp, and it’s as if I’ve swallowed all the blood and color in my body. Holden not only knew my package, but he bid and won it.

Of course he did. With cocky ease.

I can’t watch Charity and Oliver. I can’t look at the crowd. Not even at my mother. The only person I find my eyes being drawn to are his. His electric blue orbs are sparkling off the lights like crystal clear water glistens beneath the light of the sun. They belong to Holden. I swallow. His grin never leaves his face, but he straightens in his chair, uncrosses his arms, and leans his elbows on his knees. He rests his chin in his palms, and it’s like he’s watching the ending of his favorite movie. Not that I’d know what that movie is. I used to.

E.T.

I used to see him like this at the end of that one. It was like he was happy and a little sad all at the same time.

Instead of the people chanting for a kiss like they did with Amie and Brendon, there are gasps and whispers. But it’s like they’re all disappearing, and all I really want to do is crawl in a corner. The easiest option is probably to run to a safe place, wherever the hell that might be. Those alternatives are socially unacceptable.

And besides, Holden knows this place blindfolded. He’d find me.

Wincing isn’t even okay in this situation. I maintain my smile. He thinks I’m smiling for him. Am I?

All I can wonder is if his mother rigged it for him? She’s always been so sweet, humble, and compassionate. Even though Holden did hang out with a less than stellar group of teenagers, the ones who smoked in the bathrooms, spent their afternoons in detention instead of extra-curricular activities, and barely passed their classes, Ms. Masters made their home open to all of those kids. There were always cars there, and Mom would tell me how she fed some of them every meal they got.

Maybe that only fueled the rumor mill. Maybe that’s why her relationship with my mother has become strained over the year. I’m sure my mom would have done the same thing, but my father wouldn’t have it.

Georgette Masters wouldn’t do anything to harm a fly, let alone one of her friends’ daughters.

Holden’s sly smile hasn’t changed throughout the night, but I furrow my brows, and he does the same. What exactly does that mean? Did he mean to bid on Charity’s auction and messed up just the way Oliver had? Surely not.

But that’s it! Charity is in love with Holden. I am positive I can talk Charity into switching with us. She’d get what she wants, as would Oliver and I. Yes! That’s it. Holding my head high, I push my shoulders back and wait for Harry to announce my package.

“We obviously don’t need your number, dear. This package belongs to the ever-beautiful Camellia Spencer. It’s a lazy beach day and romantic dinner at Sunset Cove.”

I tilt my head to the side, waiting expectantly for Holden to stand. My eyes aren’t the only ones on him. Everyone’s watching Holden, which allows my breaths to come a little easier. If they’re all looking at him, then no one is looking at me. I assume he’s got all the attention because they knew he bid on a package, and mine is the only one left.

As Holden stands, then walks to the stage, it’s as if everything is in slow motion. The crowd’s blurred in the background. The thumping that sounds like speakers about to be blown is really my heart about to pound its way out of my chest only to land on the hard ground and shatter. With each step he takes, I flash back to his lips on mine, my finger in his mouth. My body tingles the way it did when his hand crept up my skirt at the table.

With each movement he makes, my body rebels against me, clenching, pulling, and twisting. In this moment, everything I experienced in the cabana, when I was really vulnerable to him, is magnified exponentially. My chest starts to burn. Instead of a scarlet A on my chest, it feels like it’s been branded on my face, no, microscopically on every pore.

If I could, I’d dry my sweaty palms, but again, socially unacceptable. Well, maybe not. But it’d sure be a sign that I’m not calm, cool, and collected. And that is what is expected.

Taking a step, I meet Holden at the stairs as he holds out his hand for me. I place mine in his as I carefully walk down to meet him. The rims of the drum are tapped as a band member counts off the start to a slow song. Holden’s never looked cockier, a single eyebrow lifted and a crooked smile. He’s also never looked sexier.

Holden whispers into my ear as he wraps me in his arms, “I, at least, expected Oliver to put up a fight. How in the hell did he guess the wrong package entirely?”

My eyes widen. “I have no idea. Honestly, I am mortified. Seems to be the theme of the night. I hoped this was all a big mix-up.” Shaking my head, I glance away, then back at him. “How much can I pay you to finally make Charity’s dreams come true?”

He chuckles, as he spins me, then pulls me quickly into his arms. “This was definitely not a mix-up, and the only person’s dreams I’m interested in making come true are my own.” He raises his brows and it’s like someone’s released butterflies to dance in rhythm with us…in my stomach. He inches in closer to my face, so close his minty breath mixed with his woodsy scent fills my nostrils. “I’m a selfish bastard like that, but you’re a part of my dreams, so I am pretty sure that I ended up right where I’m supposed to be.”

The butterflies shift. My stomach drops the way it used to when I was brave and fearless—when I rode roller coasters. But I’m clearly neither of those because if I were, I’d ride Holden.

Stop. It.

There’s only one way I can think to cool myself down from my body’s rising temperature, and that’s to get some space from him. As we swirl around the dance floor, I’m facing Oliver for the first time. As usual, he’s paying me no attention. He and Charity are smiling. Their laughs are so loud it’s like they’re right beside us. Their feet even move in perfect harmony like they’ve been dance partners for years.

That makes all the butterflies stop. And the beats of my heart. Well, at the very least, it skipped a few before racing again. I can’t be jealous of their fancy dancing when Holden and I did so much more than that in the cabana. In perfect fucking rhythm no less.

Realizing I’m holding my breath, I exhale. “Whatever,” I say, taking the lead to move us closer to my fiancé.

“Oh no you don’t.” Holden’s grip around my waist tightens, turning me in the opposite direction, gliding far away from Oliver and Charity. And ensuring my back is now facing them. Taking that as my cue, I spin out from the side where we’re holding hands—as far as I can go—hoping he has to release me, but his grip is tighter than ever. “Did you know the tango is the dance of lovers?” He jerks me against his solid body, closer than we were before. “And it’s against the rules to break hold.”

“Almost accidental lovers, asshole.”

“Maybe that time, but not next time, tigress.”

“There won’t be a next time.” I glance over my shoulder looking for Oliver, waiting for him to storm over, cut in, and cause a scene over another man’s attention toward me. Would it be wrong to admit that Holden pursuing me feels good?

Hell yeah, it’s wrong. Every bit of this night has been wrong.

Earlier with Luke, and now with Holden, Oliver’s not even batted an eyelash. Was Holden right about what I deserve and his observations of Oliver? What if Oliver’s actions speak louder than his words?

Like earlier, my eyes scan the room, looking anywhere other than at the two men consuming my every thought.

“Look at me,” Holden urges. I don’t. “Want me to be serious about something?” Okay, so I do look at him.

I nod. “Serious and honest. That’d be a welcomed change. I’m just not sure you’re even capable.”

He cocks his head, as if he’s contemplating the statement. “I knew that date was yours because I’ve watched, Cammie. I’ve known you my entire life despite your efforts to distance yourself from me as much as possible. I’m aware of all the things you like.” As soon as his tongue darts out and licks his lips, my eyes are drawn to them. His fingers strum my back, sending electrifying pings all the way to my core. “And I’ve learned so much more from our first time being intimate together. Even if that was an accident.”

I inch up on the tip of my toes as my feet are being swept across the floor, nearly dancing on air. “Shh! And you seem to be delusional in thinking there will be a second. So, correction. Only time together.”

“We’ll see.” He laughs. “But regardless, I’m guessing I know more about how to please you than he does. Just like how I knew your package better than he did. Hell, he didn’t even know it at all.” He arches his damn eyebrow, causing a quiver to quake through me. “And you don’t have to tell me if I’m right because I can read you like a book, and on this date, I’m going to prove to you that I’m not who you think I am…that you’ve made a huge mistake with Oliver.”

“I—” The music fades as applause fills the room.
What are you going to say, Cammie? No one’s ever said anything like this shit to me.

“What?” he asks.

That he’s all kinds of too late. Say it. Say it, Cammie.
The room grows silent as the song is switched. “Never mind.” I shake my head. And even though I’ve released him, he places his hand at the base of my spine, following my lead for the first time on the way back to our assigned dinner seats.

Should I be surprised that we make it back to the table before Oliver? That he wouldn’t be bothered that he’s been away from me so long? That he wouldn’t miss me or be upset that another man is acting more like my date than he is?

Finally, when he sits beside me, I lean in and try to be as quiet as possible. The last thing that’s acceptable at something like this is airing dirty laundry. “How the actual fuck did you screw this up? What happened to ‘you’re about to be my wife, I think I can pick your package’?”

He shrugs, like someone’s asked him if he knows the time, but he doesn’t have a watch. My eyes are drawn to the red roses in the center of the table. All I see is red. This better be good. Like rocket science, fucking genius good.

“I figured it was you being thoughtful. You know how damn much I love to hike. Figured you’d made the date something I liked to do so it would be obvious to me.”

“It’s…” I inhale, dragging in a deep breath before putting the fakest smile on my face of all time. I clench my fists below the table. “It’s
my
dream date, not yours, Oliver. Everything is always about you, though, isn’t it?”