Auction Time: Bad Boy Bachelors of Orange County BK3

by Gray, Khardine

  She looked me over with curiosity. “What did you do?”

  “Stuff you wouldn’t have done.” It was true. She wouldn’t have been foolish enough to sleep with a guy after a few weeks of speaking to him, and not really dating.

  “How do you know I wouldn’t have done it?”

  “I just do.”

  She looked hurt. “You know what, Mia, I may not be as blasé about sex as you and Abby, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me. It definitely for damn certain doesn’t mean I’m stupid and can’t offer some insight that could be useful.”

  My shoulders slumped as I realized I’d been a jerk. “I’m sorry… I’m just on edge.”

  “I can see that.” She brought her hands together and deepened her stare. “Did something happen between you and Eric?”

  I didn’t know how she knew, but she did. “Yeah. Did Abby tell you?”

  “No, she didn’t have to. I guessed. It was the way he looked at you. I could tell.” She nodded.

  “We got together last year, and it didn’t end well.”

  “What happened?”

  I pulled in a very deep breath and found myself telling her all that had happened. Not only was it the most I’d ever spoken to her, but it was the most I’d said about what happened between me and Eric. When I’d told Abby, I just told her the parts that irked me the most. Telling Vanessa was different because she seemed to value the sentimental stuff Abby wouldn’t have noted.

  “A jock who likes ballet and poems. Mia, what he did doesn’t sound… Well, it doesn’t make sense. And not with the way he’s acting now,” she pointed out.

  “I know, and that’s the thing. Part of me always knew it made no sense, so when he told me to tell him I was done with him, the words never came.”

  I had been so angry with myself, but the kiss soothed it away.

  “What are you going to do?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t… I don’t want to be with someone who has so much power over my emotions. I literally can’t think straight when I’m with him or around him.” I was surprised I could confess that to her. That was the living truth. I’d never met anyone who could break down the control I had over my emotions. Not until him. That he’d even broke past my deep philosophy on athletes was also much to his credit.

  “What if you didn’t think about that part? No one wants that really. I don’t, and I’m, well…” Her voice trailed off, and I got the feeling I was going to get the answer to a three-year-long mystery.

  Was Vanessa, Vanessa the virgin?

  “What?” I asked after a few seconds passed.

  “I know you know… You all do somehow, even though I haven’t told you. I can tell from the way you guys rip into me and tease the hell out of me. But let me just spell it out. I haven’t had the sexual experiences you guys have had, in the sense that I haven’t had any. Well… not the full-on sexual experiences anyway, as in I’m still a virgin.” Her cheeks flushed, and her green eyes held a sheen of shyness.

  I straightened, unable to believe that she actually told me. Of our sisters, I’d probably teased her the most, and she’d just confessed something so personal to me.

  “You can laugh now,” she added with a little smile.

  I shook my head. “I’m not laughing.” It would be just like me to laugh, but there was nothing funny to laugh at. This wasn’t a situation where Abby or I were trying to shock her.

  “Well, that’s good… I think. I’m telling you because I don’t want you to have this belief that just because I’m not like you guys, it disqualifies me in some way from giving relationship advice.”

  “Vanessa, I have to confess that I might have thought that on some level maybe days ago, or weeks ago.” Before Eric started chasing me again.

  “It’s not true. I date all the time. I just haven’t had that connection, and it’s probably because the guys I date aren’t exactly what you girls would call the drool worthy bad boys who are mostly after sex.”

  “Don’t you want to lose it?” I was really curious to hear the answer to that.

  “Yes, of course. I’m not holding on to it for any reason. I just… I don’t know. I had a sort of embarrassing experience years ago that fazed me and threw me off kilter. It made me more choosy on who might decide to give it to. Hence the fact that we date different types of guys. I’d be with the accountant while you’d be with the marine on vacation for a week. I’d be with the lawyer or the schoolteacher who’s trying to climb up the career ladder while Abby would have been with the playboy jock, no problem. Of course, that was before Gilly, but realistically, he was kind of like that. Do you see what I mean?”

  I nodded understanding but definitely curious about her embarrassing experience. She was right. I could wholeheartedly say she was right. “I get it. We’re the fun seekers, and when we meet someone who might change things up, we don’t know what the hell to do.”

  She smiled, agreeing. “Yeah, and that’s what I think happened to you. Eric’s a jock, and you hate athletes. He seems to like you a lot, and you like him too. He was always an exception. He seems to be the first guy to tick a different box altogether. Something you weren’t expecting.”

  “So, what should I do?”

  “That’s something I can’t really help with. I’d have a hard time moving past what he did too. But on account of all the other stuff and that he seems to still want you, I’d want to know why… Why he did what he did. Maybe there’s more of a reason other than that’s his style.”

  That sounded easy. I didn’t think it would be as easy as that, however, because it would mean letting him back in on some level.

  “It depends on what you want, Mia. If you want him…” she added, and I really wished she didn’t because truth was truth.

  I could deny truth all I wanted, deny it until it killed me but the truth would still loom over my face.

  I did want him.

  Chapter 7

  Mia

  * * *

  ‘Keep going. The odds are in your favor and the universe on your side. Do something wild today.’- Madam Phoebe

  “The venue is sorted out,” Vanessa squealed, rubbing her hands together.

  “Did you get Rochester Hall?” Abbey asked.

  “I did,” Vanessa bubbled.

  We’d gathered in the meeting room to work together like we did sometimes.

  Mom was just outside talking with Dad. While I was indeed working, I had my eyes on them.

  I could see them through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows surrounding the office. They were standing by the elevator shaft talking it up like they were back in high school. I actually could imagine them just like that.

  Dad had told me he’d wanted to marry Mom from the first day he saw her. He was fifteen and played football. He was the jock, and she was the grade-A student who’d just transferred from Arizona.

  She had this thing about jocks too, which she overcame with the amount of work Dad put into getting her.

  It used to irritate the heck out of me when I saw them together because they couldn’t just be the normal average grumpy parents everyone else had. They were like teenagers, perpetual high school sweethearts who still held hands everywhere they went. Dad had to be one of the most busiest men on the planet, but he scheduled in time to come see Mom here every single day, twice a day. They had to have breakfast together, and they had to have lunch. Then, of course, he had to walk her back to the management floor and say his last-minute goodbyes. That was what he was doing now. So far, I’d counted twenty minutes. We’d been in here for two hours smashing out our work, and they’d come by like two star-struck lovers frolicking in the woods.

  It used to irritate me, but now I found myself wondering yet again what it would be like to be with someone who made me happy. The only guy I’d so far experienced that type of happiness with was the one who’d hurt me the most.

  “Mia, for God’s sake, girl, this zoning out thing you’re doing really sucks,” Abby stated, cut
ting into my thoughts.

  I looked at her, and Vanessa laughed.

  “I’m sorry. Did you say something?” I asked.

  “I was saying that now that we have the venue, I can do more planning for the online campaign. Clearly, you have Eric on the brain.” She smirked.

  “No,” I lied.

  “Miss Lady, don’t forget who you’re talking to. I never got an update from last night.” She flashed Vanessa a harsh stare.

  “What? I didn’t know I was supposed to report back. I was going to see Mia on my own accord,” Vanessa tried to defend herself.

  “Are you kidding? Own accord or not, I couldn’t go, and Mia was sending out bat signals galore. I’m not at the house anymore like I used to be. So, you left me wondering in the dark with my sick baby.”

  “Girls, please,” I chuckled. “I’m fine. I am, I think.”

  “Okay, so what is the Eric situation?” Abby answered.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  “What has it been like working with him?”

  “Well…” I couldn’t answer that part because the first attempt to meet ended up with me reacquainting myself with how he tasted. “I’m still working on that part. Brainstorming, and um… well, we sort of kissed.”

  Abby’s eyes snapped open, and she looked back to Vanessa, who grit her teeth.

  “You…”—she pointed at her—“you knew about this and didn’t tell me. Here you are, all excited about a venue, and we’ve been here all morning.”

  “I didn’t know if it was my thing to tell.” Vanessa winced.

  “Gaghhh, just stop talking.” Abby looked around to me again. “That’s not a nothing, Mia.”

  “Right now, it is. I really want to get this project off the ground, and I don’t want any distractions.” That was what I’d decided on last night. No distractions. That meant I wasn’t going to think about anything besides the project, at least for today. I was going to be catching up with Mom in half an hour, and I wanted something decent to report back.

  Instead of brainstorming what I was going to do about Eric, I focused my energy on the progress I’d made on the project so far.

  “Um, guys, I know I’ve been given the orders to be silent,”—Vanessa held up her hand and gave Abby a sarcastic glare—“but I just wanted to let you know Eric’s heading this way.”

  We all looked around and saw him.

  He was walking up the corridor, heading straight here.

  So much for focusing today. He looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of FHM, or something like Men’s Vogue. He oozed strength, sexiness, and class.

  “Look.” Abby pointed at me. “Clearly, he’s here to see you. I’m sick to death of you two and this craziness. Talk it out. Obviously, he likes you, so open your damn mind. I won’t spend another year or forever with him running after you like… I don’t know what. Think of this as an intervention. Think of me as the boy who stuck his finger in the duck.”

  Vanessa burst out laughing. I did too. “It’s not the duck, Abby.” Vanessa laughed. Abby was so crazy.

  She gave Vanessa a dubious glare as if to say how dare she correct her when she was taking some sort of stand.

  “I’m pretty certain it was a duck. That’s what Grandpa said,” she retorted.

  “Grandpa was drunk when he told us that story. He sounds more Irish when he’s drunk. It’s not a duck; it’s a dike. The whole thing’s from a Dutch folktale about a boy saving his village from disaster. How could you think he meant duck, Abby?” Vanessa was laughing so much, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  “Just come.” She stood up at the same time Eric got to the door.

  Vanessa got up too and gathered her notes.

  Eric knocked and pushed the door open.

  “Hey, ladies, hope I’m not disturbing you guys,” he said, looking at each of us.

  “Not at all,” Abby answered. “We’re about to go work out if the boy stuck his fingers in the duck or the dike.”

  Eric laughed. “I’m sure it’s the dike. Duck, Abby?”

  Abby frowned. “Grandpa is so gonna get it.”

  She linked her arm with Vanessa’s and hustled her away. With the laughter gone, the seriousness filled the room as he came in and closed the door.

  I straightened in my chair and gazed ahead at him.

  He walked over to me and set down the envelope he’d carried.

  He set it down and sat next to me.

  Funnily enough, today I didn’t feel that flight sensation. It didn’t urge me to run away from him. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, or maybe it was neither.

  Maybe my mind was opening beyond my control.

  He looked me over with a twinkle in his eyes.

  I was really eager to know what he was going to say to me, although it seemed like he was here for business, hence the envelope.

  “You okay?” he asked first.

  “Peachy.” That was what I said when I wasn’t okay.

  “I figured I’d just bring you these.” He opened the envelope and pulled out a document that had been stapled together. “This list is the contact details for guys who signed up. They want to know more about the plans for the evening, like if it’s the usual Cartwright black-tie event. Told them I’d check with the boss.”

  I smiled at that. “Boss?”

  “Aren’t you in charge?”

  “Not really, but maybe. I think we should go black tie and make it in line with the usual black-tie events. It’s classier that way.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I’ll report back. I have everything in hand from my side and everyone on board; just let me know what I need to be doing.”

  Gosh… he really was all business today. Part of me felt a tinge of disappointment at the thought of him verging on to this and giving up the chase. Part of me didn’t want him to stop trying.

  “We have the venue booked now, so we could go check it out,” I told him.

  “Will it be able to hold the two million on Twitter who will be bidding on me?” He smirked, bringing out the dimples.

  I actually laughed, and it surprised him. That was perhaps the first time in close to eighteen months that I’d laughed around him.

  I stopped and cleared my throat. “The venue holds five hundred people. It’s Rochester Hall. So, it’s big enough for all your fans and groupies.” Never mind the other nineteen guys.

  “So, can I ask… will the lovely Mia Cartwright be bidding that night? If you are, I’ll dress more like a librarian or something un-jock like. I could wear tweed.”

  I stared at him, and something sparked within me. “You don’t have to do that. I won’t be bidding on anyone. Just there to organize.”

  “Not even ten bucks?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “Five?”

  “Nope.”

  “Two fifty?” He raised his brows, and I started laughing again as I shook my head. “One dollar? Come on, girl. It’s for a good cause. Can’t you seriously give a guy a break? One dollar to save my ego. You could even start the bid.”

  “No, I’m not starting anything.”

  “So, you’d seriously allow me to be auctioned off to some woman for the evening?”

  I continued to laugh. “You volunteered for this, Eric. What did you think was going to happen?”

  He brought his finger up to his cheek, drawing my attention to the sharp chisel of his jaw. “I volunteered because I was hoping you’d bid on me, win that bid, and have me for the evening.”

  God, the man was insufferable. Charming and insufferable. And he had somehow managed to get a foot past the wall I’d built up specifically to keep him out.

  “You’re crazy, and what’s worse, I know you’re actually serious.”

  “Yes, of course I’m serious. Now you’ve left me like a lamb to the slaughter. Who knows who I’ll get?”

  I giggled, and he smiled. “Eric, you know I’m not bidding, and definitely not on you. You knew that before you a
sked. Why would you even ask me that?”

  He held my gaze. “Maybe… I’ll do anything to make you smile, or hear you laugh. It’s the best sound. It’s like watching…pure starlight.”

  Stunned wasn’t enough of a word I’d use to describe the ripple of emotion his words awoke within me.

  “What?”

  “I know it’s dumb, and I’m sure anyone hearing such a thing come from my mouth would think they just entered The Twilight Zone, but that’s what it’s like to me. The sound has the same feeling. Pure and beautiful, and in my case, more enchanting because it’s rare.”

  I looked at him, and the question popped into my head.

  Why did he leave?

  If he could say such things to me now, why did he treat me like I meant nothing?

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” I said the words more to myself than to him.

  “That’s probably because there’s a bunch of things I should have said to you, and haven’t said yet.”

  “Really?” I asked, not bothering to hide my sarcasm.

  “Yes, if only to preserve what’s left of this thing between us.”

  “There’s nothing really between us,” I replied. “There kind of never was.”

  “That kiss the other day says different.”

  “The kiss was… crazy.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “How so? It should be fine. I’m sure you hook up with all kinds of women all the time and do the same thing to them. So, what made me any different?”

  Shame filled his handsome face, and I knew I was right. “You were different because… I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be with you, but there was stuff happening to me that made me… screw up.”

  “What was happening?” I was really interested to hear this.

  “I…the day I was with you was the same day I found out that my dad wasn’t my real father. And my real father was a man I’d looked up to my whole life. Except he’d just been sentenced to ten years imprisonment.” He said all of that while looking at me. His gaze never leaving mine.

  A stone dropped in the pit of my stomach on hearing that, and I honestly didn’t know what to say.