Nobody knocks me off my game.
She straightened her spine, searching the room for Jace. He stood by the bar, watching her intently with a coy expression.
Fuck coy.
You want to mess with me, you’d better bring the biggest ones you’ve got, buddy.
Dixie tipped her chin up, thrust out her chest, and turned the heat up a million degrees as she sauntered toward the stage with an extra sway to her hips. She hadn’t been oblivious to the men checking her out all evening, though she’d paid them no mind. Now she made eye contact, doling out seductive winks and smiles like never before. She felt Jace’s stare burning through her skin, and it only drove her confidence higher.
The bachelors were seated at the table by the stage, grinning like fools. Jon Butterscotch was waving to women, and Quincy had fierce eye contact going on with a table of chicks. Just beyond the other side of the stage, Chicki Redmond, Red’s best friend and the wife of a Dark Knight, sat ready to register the winning bids and take donations.
Dixie put a hand on Jared’s shoulder and bent at the waist between him and Scott, Sarah and Josie’s brother, purposely giving Jace a view of her ass. Yeah, she had a great ass. She walked a boatload of miles every week running the businesses and waitressing at the bar. Other parts of her weren’t so bad either. She’d long ago embraced her tall, slim, though slightly curvy figure for what it was. She’d never have the hourglass shape of a Kardashian, but she’d never have their baggage, either, and for that she was grateful.
“You boys doing okay?” she asked. “You’re first up, Jared. Are you nervous?”
“I haven’t been nervous about a performance since my first time with a girl.” Jared and Scott bumped fists, chuckling. “I just feel sorry for all the women who won’t win me. You sure you don’t want to auction off a week’s worth of dates for us?”
“Not tonight, but I’m sure you’d be booked solid.” She patted his shoulder. “How about you, Scott? Are you ready?”
“Hell yes. But get ready for a cat fight. The ladies are hot for me tonight.”
“I’m ready.” Dixie chuckled and straightened up. She couldn’t help but steal a glance at Jace as she stepped back. Jace lifted his chin, no longer looking quite so coy. In fact, he looked downright irritated.
Good.
She turned toward the stage, consulting the clipboard, even though she had the lineup memorized. She needed something to focus on other than Jace’s reaction.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” her father said into the mic, and the crowd exploded with applause and cheers. He stood in the middle of the stage gripping his cane, wearing a T-shirt, a black leather vest, and the same scuffed boots he’d worn for decades. He didn’t dress up, and he didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of his appearance, as underscored by his unkempt gray beard and thoroughly inked flesh. His leathery skin was mapped with deep grooves earned from a lifetime of riding under the harsh sun, and the left side of his face drooped from his stroke. Still, he was the epitome of strength and confidence.
As Dixie listened to her father explain that the proceeds of the auction would benefit the Parkvale Women’s Shelter, she filled with pride. Her father was a warrior, a protector, and a heck of a good man. He was a tough parent, with strict beliefs about how to treat others and what roles women and men should play in each other’s lives. She may not agree with some of his protective barriers, but she respected them and she respected him immensely.
Her father looked directly at her and said, “Now, let’s hear it for my beautiful daughter, Dixie, who spent weeks planning and coordinating every aspect of this event, from the food and the signage to soliciting donations and convincing each of these badass men to step onto the auction block.”
More applause and cheers rang out. Her brothers and friends hollered things like “Dixie rocks!” and “Way to go, Dix!”
She waved, her stomach twisting into knots as she murmured, “Thank you.”
She really hadn’t thought this through. She’d been worried about her brothers getting upset, but she hadn’t thought too hard about her father. Her brothers were always in her face, trying to keep her safe—or in line. But her father was the quiet force behind them, the Dalai Lama of the Dark Knights. Her brothers were protective of her and of each other because their father demanded it, and he demanded it because he loved them—all of them. His blood-born children as well as the people who had become family, like the families of the Dark Knights, Quincy, Tracey, Scott, Tru and Gemma, Josie and Jed, and all their children.
Would taking this stand, getting up on that stage and being auctioned off, be a slap in the face to her father? An act of public disrespect?
Would he ever forgive her?
“I assume you all know how this works,” her father said. “But for those who have never been to a bachelor auction, there are rules. The first rule is to bid high.”
The crowd laughed.
“I’m not kidding,” he said. Then his expression turned serious, and the crowd silenced. “I haven’t seen some of you in our bar before, so the second rule is for you. If you start a fight or cause any bullshit, you’ll have my boys to deal with.”
Every Dark Knight in the place rose to their feet, proudly showing off their leathers and patches. Even the clean-cut members looked like forces to be reckoned with. A low murmur rumbled through the crowd.
Her father nodded, and the men sat down. “Rule number three is for the winners of the auction. If you win a date, you will adhere to the rules for those dates, which will be handed to you upon payment by the lovely Chicki Redmond.” He lifted his cane, pointing it at Chicki, who waggled her finger toward the crowd, eliciting another low murmur. “Now, let’s get this show on the road with bachelor number one, Jared Stone.”
Chapter Four
THE BAND PLAYED “Moves Like Jagger” as Jared strutted up to the stage in his jeans and T-shirt, his tattooed arms on display, and the crowd went wild. Women screamed, guys whistled, and Jared ate it all up, turning as he danced his way over to Biggs and the music died down. He handed Biggs the card Dixie had prepared for her father to read, as she’d done for each of the bachelors. She’d had fun preparing them and picking out songs for each of the contestants. Her friends had written her card and chosen her song, but they’d given it to her mother and refused to tell her what they’d written or what song they’d chosen.
“Settle down, ladies, and let me read you the goods on this fine gentleman,” Biggs said in a slow drawl, and the din of the crowd eventually died down. He leaned his cane against his leg and read from the card as Jared waved and winked at the audience. “Jared Stone is a chef by trade, and you know what that means. He’s got magic hands.”
Jared held up his hands and said, “Yeah, baby! Magic!”
Women cheered. Biggs glowered at Dixie, but she couldn’t stop smiling. It was just the reaction from the crowd she’d hoped for.
“Jared’s got tons of energy,” Biggs continued. “If his jaw isn’t jumping, his legs are, so if you win this hot bachelor, get ready to pull an all-nighter.” He lifted his gaze to the cheering audience and chuckled as Jared began hip thrusting. “This scorching-hot Adam Levine lookalike owns several restaurants and clothing stores. He’s sure to keep your body happy, your mouth full, and don’t worry about your tattered clothes. He’ll replace anything he tears off your body.” His eyes shot angrily to Dixie as more whoops rang out. “I think we’re in for a long night.”
The band started playing “Moves Like Jagger” again, and Jared broke into a sexy dance, earning more applause and whistles. Dixie felt the heat of Jace’s stare boring into her and told herself she was imagining it. She moved to the beat, swaying her hips and shoulders to try to work off her nervous energy as Biggs started the auction process, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jace was watching her every move. That should probably annoy her, but it revved her up, despite his earlier use of the endearment kitten. She didn’t like pet names, especi
ally terms that seemed soft and submissive. But when he’d said it, it had sounded smoldering and sexy, as much of an annoyance as it was a turn-on. The urge to see if her mind was playing tricks on her was too strong. She tried to act casual as her gaze rolled over the cheering crowd, coming to a heart-thundering halt at the predatory look on Jace’s face.
“Sold to Jillian Braden, number two sixty-nine,” Biggs called out.
Jace shot an angry glare in Jillian’s direction. Jillian was jumping up and down, clapping and screaming.
“Braden!” Jace’s deep voice boomed across the room at the same time Nick and Jax shot to their feet at the bachelor table and seethed, “Sam!”
The crowd silenced as Sam Braden pushed to his feet, the three protective men glaring at him. He held his palms up toward the ceiling and said, “I tried, but it’s Jilly!”
Laughter erupted as Jillian strutted proudly toward Chicki, ignoring the ruckus the men had made.
Red strode onto the stage and took the mic from Biggs, who chuckled and stroked his beard, stepping back to give Red the floor. “Listen up, gentlemen. This is for charity. Nobody’s going to be taking advantage of your sisters, cousins, friends, or acquaintances. We’ll see to that.” She looked pointedly at Jace, then at Nick, and finally, at Jax and said, “Calm your jets or I’ll haul all y’all out of here by your ears. Got it?”
When there was no response past a grumble, Red said, “What was that?”
“Got it,” the three grumbling men said louder.
“Okay, then let the night roll on.” She handed Biggs the microphone, kissed him smack on the lips, and strutted off the stage as more applause rang out, setting the tone for the rest of the night.
Hours later, when they finally got down to the last two bachelors, Dixie was nearing her wit’s end. As if she wasn’t nervous enough as her turn to get auctioned off neared, Jace had set his sights on Dixie again. And like an addict craving her favorite drug, she couldn’t resist getting her next hit, looking at him over and over again. Every heated glance amped up the electricity between them, until she was sure they’d catch fire.
Biggs called Jon Butterscotch up to the stage, and the crowd went wild.
The band played “SexyBack” as Jon strode onto the stage. He took the mic from Biggs and said, “Fifty shades of sweetness at your service, ladies. Who’s going to get the first lick?”
The ladies shot to their feet, clapping and screaming.
Biggs ripped the mic from Jon’s hands and said, “I can see Dr. Butterscotch needs no further introduction.” He stepped back, allowing Jon to take over.
Jon swaggered to the front of the stage, splayed his arms, and made a dramatic show of gyrating his hips. He grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and tore it open. Buttons flew through the air, inciting more excited squeals. He shrugged his shirt off and whipped it around over his head, then tossed it into the crowd.
One of Crow’s sisters won a date with Jon, which caused several of the Dark Knights to send threatening glares in his direction. Dixie knew what it felt like to be the cause of that type of scrutiny. Her stomach knotted tighter. She glanced at her family sitting at a table near the stage, cheering as Biggs called Quincy up to the tune of “You Sexy Thing.” All of her burly brothers and their beautiful wives cheered him on as he strode coolly and confidently to the middle of the stage, flashing his famous smirk. Quincy opened his arms, giving the screaming ladies a good long look at his gorgeous self before turning around and shaking his ass, earning more whoops and cheers.
“Three hundred dollars!” a woman yelled from a table of twentysomethings. They all shot to their feet, except a cute brunette wearing black-framed glasses who looked like she wished she was invisible.
“Looks like my boy Quincy needs no introduction either. I need the number from your bidding paddle, sweetheart,” Biggs said.
The women looked anxiously at each other. One of the girls grabbed the paddle from the cute brunette and waved it, yelling, “Three hundred!”
Dixie looked at Penny, who was sitting next to Josie. They were whispering behind their hands. Penny hadn’t bid on anyone, but she looked like she was having a great time.
“Do I hear three hundred and ten?” Biggs’s voice boomed through the room.
Quincy started gyrating in a sexy dance as he pointed out at the crowd. He wiggled his fingers in a come-hither gesture, and more bids rang out, driving the winning bid all the way up to one thousand dollars!
“Sold, to—”
“Veronica Wescott!” the winning group of girls screamed. Two of them hauled the embarrassed bespectacled brunette to her feet and hollered, “Roni Wescott! Roni Wescott is the winner!”
Dixie felt as nervous as Roni Wescott looked. She was next. Her palms sweated as her friends turned to look at her with supportive smiles, giving her the thumbs-up. She stole a glance at Jace. He was watching her, clapping along with everyone else as Biggs announced the winner.
Jace mouthed, Nice job, and winked.
Oh God, was she really going to get up on that stage and be auctioned off? Would Jace bid? What if he didn’t? She turned away, feeling queasy, and watched her mother cross the stage to join her father.
Biggs kissed Red, and then he said, “That was a hell of an auction!” Applause rang out anew, and Biggs made a settle-down motion with his hand, quieting the chaos. “Before we wrap up and celebrate, my beautiful queen would like to say a few words.” He handed the microphone to Red, eliciting more cheers.
“I can’t imagine a more successful auction. We greatly appreciate the community coming together and supporting the needs of women and families who are going through hard times.” Red looked warmly at Sarah, and Bones kissed Sarah’s temple. She shifted her gaze to Josie, tucked beneath Jed’s arm, and then her motherly gaze landed on Tracey, who blushed. “As you may know, the Dark Knights started the Parkvale Women’s Center, and our very own Eva and Sunny Yeun, the best mother-daughter team around, run the program.” Red motioned toward the Yeuns, earning another round of applause. “They’re changing and saving lives on a daily basis, and events like this make it possible for them to continue their good work. And tonight wouldn’t have been so successful without our bright and talented daughter, Dixie. Let’s welcome Dixie to the stage.”
“Way to go, Dixie!” a number of men called out between hoots and whistles.
Dixie tried to ignore the swarm of bees in her stomach as she joined her parents. Thank God she was used to walking in spike heels, or she would probably have stumbled in her nervousness. The secretive look in her mother’s eyes made her even more anxious.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
Her father reached for her hand, and his beard tickled as he kissed her cheek. “I’m proud of you, princess.”
He used that endearment so sparingly, it shot straight to Dixie’s heart. Oh God! Can I do this? Please don’t hate me, Dad!
She stood between her parents, looking at Jace over the crowd, and her pulse spiked at the grin on his face.
“Dixie not only took the reins for this event with both hands,” Red said proudly, “but she put her heart and soul into it, reaching out to individuals and companies, all while managing our family businesses.”
Dixie kept forcing herself to redirect her gaze, but like metal to magnet, it zipped back to Jace time and time again.
“We have a big surprise for you tonight,” Red said.
“We do?” Biggs asked.
“We do!” Red exclaimed.
Dixie gulped a breath.
Her mother took her hand, squeezing it supportively as she led her to the front of the stage. “Anyone who has attended these auctions over the years knows that one of the rules is that the hosting family must have one family member on the auction block, and since all of our handsome boys are taken…” She stepped back, motioning toward Dixie, and said, “I present to you our lovely princess.”
The room went dead silent.
The
band started playing “Dear Future Husband” by Meghan Trainor. Dixie shot an are-you-kidding-me glare at her friends and sisters-in-law, who all cracked up.
Bullet busted out a laugh and said, “Good one, Red!”
Laughter rumbled through the crowd, sending anger rushing through Dixie’s veins.
“Hey!” Dixie hollered. “What the hell, people? Did you not hear Red? I’m up for auction. Let’s get the bidding started!”
Bullet’s face turned stone-cold. “Over my dead body.” He pushed to his feet, glowering at Bear and Bones, which was enough to bring every other Dark Knight to their feet, arms crossed, their menacing stares roaming over the murmuring and gasping crowd.
Bear and Bones exchanged an uncomfortable glance, though they did not stand.
Dixie saw fear on women’s faces and confusion on some of the men’s, making her even angrier and embarrassed. She crossed and uncrossed her arms. The Dark Knights were scattered through the room like unwanted sentinels, scaring off anyone who may have wanted to bid. She gritted her teeth, hoping nobody could hear her hammering heart, which pounded in her ears like a bass drum on steroids. Every passing second felt interminable. The pit of her stomach burned as Bones leaned back in his chair, making no move to stand. Crystal said something to Bear. He cocked a grin, put his arm around her, and remained seated, nodding supportively at Dixie.
Dixie felt a modicum of relief, but it was short-lived as Bullet moved forward, his eyes so angry they looked pitch-black. His shoulders were high and tight, his biceps twitched, and his fingers curled into fists, ready to take down anyone in his path.
“Off the stage, Dixie,” Bullet commanded, planting himself in front of the stage, a formidable barrier between her and potential bidders.
Taming My Whiskey Page 6