by Marie Carnay
Chelsea exhaled and glanced down at the winning bids. Maybe work had been taking all her time lately. But even if she took Liz’s advice, nothing would come of it. Where her friend was adventurous and daring, Chelsea was… not.
“Tell me the last time you did something new. Right now.”
“Does switching to hazelnut-flavored coffee count?”
Liz shook her head. “I’m talking, drag you out of your little bubble and turn your whole world topsy turvy, new.” She reached out and grabbed Chelsea’s arm. “When’s the last time your heart tried to beat right out of your chest or your lungs ached because you couldn’t breathe?”
Chelsea thought for way too long. “Maybe that carnival ride a few years ago? The one with the rickety latch and the operator straight out of American Horror Story.”
“You’re way overdo for a change.”
She couldn’t deny that. Event planning had seemed so sexy and exciting in college. Fancy dinners, cocktail parties, friendly sports competitions. Visions of never sitting behind a desk and always meeting new people had filled her naïve mind.
Fast-forward four years and the shine had worn off. With no time to date and no free weekends to speak of, she had been living for her clients, not herself. Between their outlandish demands and bad behavior, Chelsea needed a break.
“If you come up with any ideas, let me know.”
Liz laughed out loud. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Just as Liz was about to explain, David appeared. “Ready for the announcements?”
Chelsea nodded. “Have the MacIntoshes finished whatever they wanted to say?”
“Yep. Looks like most everyone is back, so whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” She smiled before turning to Liz. Something about her last comment had her on edge. “You better not have something up your sleeve.”
Liz wiggled her bare arms. “I can’t!”
With a frown, Chelsea headed toward the front of the reception hall. Tables covered in black crepe and silver confetti lined the walls, each holding an item up for auction. The sponsors outdid themselves this year, auctioning everything from brand-new sports cars to weekend rentals of penthouse condos overlooking Central Park.
A who’s who list of New York elite milled around the front, waiting for the announcements. She’d been to so many of these events the last few years, but she always felt like an outsider. All these people living lives she could only dream of while she took the subway home to her tiny apartment an hour away.
People who were worth millions upon millions of dollars all eager to find out what crazy item they won. Liz was right. She needed a break. Somewhere far far away from New York City and her job.
Sarabelle Island popped into her head. The man she’d talked to while standing in front of the display had been right. If she could go anywhere or bid on anything tonight it would be a whole month on Sarabelle. A private island with no hors d’oeuvres to check, decorations to rearrange, or people to smile at.
Chelsea could be herself. If she even knew what that was anymore.
She stepped up to the podium and flashed a choreographed smile at the crowd. Holt and Gage Macintosh stood off to the side with a woman between them. She must be their fiancée.
Pretty, with light brown hair and hips that could give Chelsea’s a run for their money. Amazing. How one woman could manage a pair of brothers, Chelsea hadn’t a clue.
Be attracted to two men? Sure. Men were a weakness she could never get over. Hard muscles, straight jawbones. Hands she imagined everywhere.
Chelsea’s mind filled with thoughts of the two men she’d met that night. As different from each other as they could get, but she could see herself leaning into either one of them. Not that it would ever happen.
She shook her head and scrolled to the first winning bid on the iPad in her hand. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m here to announce the winners of this year’s charity auction for the MacIntosh Fund for Cancer Research.”
With a deep breath she glanced down at the screen. “The first item, an autographed football from Super Bowl Fifty, goes to Jacqueline and Richard Harrington.”
The crowd broke out in muted applause as the couple walked over to the winners’ table. Chelsea waited a moment before continuing.
Half an hour later, she’d announced every winner but one. All that remained was the month-long vacation. “With its breathtaking views and gorgeous mansion, secluded Sarabelle Island is the perfect place for your next getaway.”
She smiled out at the crowd before glancing down at the winning bid. That can’t be right. She looked up, scanning the winning table for Liz. She was occupied. Damn it.
Chelsea swallowed and read the details of the winning bid again. “I’m sorry, bear with me a moment everyone. Ms. Simmons, can I see you for a moment?”
In a flash, Liz was by her side. “What’s the matter?”
Chelsea pointed at the winning bid. “Is this some sort of joke?”
Liz shook her head. “No. That’s the winning bid. Wire transfer came in twenty minutes ago.”
“There’s got to be a mistake. I don’t know anyone here.”
“He said he knows you. His brother, too.” Liz grinned. “Remember what I told you about taking chances? This is it. This is your chance.”
“I can’t accept it.”
Liz tilted her head at the crowd. “You still have to announce it.”
Oh, God. Chelsea exhaled to calm her nerves. “This conversation isn’t over.”
She turned back to the assembled partiers as Liz walked away. “My apologies on the delay. Without further ado, the month-long vacation on Sarabelle goes to, me, Chelsea Miller.”
A rushed whisper tore through the crowd. “According to this, Bronx and Beckett Kingston placed the winning bid of…” She swallowed. “Two million dollars… on my behalf.” She blinked and stared out at the crowd. “Gentlemen, please step forward so I can thank you.”
The audience swiveled like a giant lazy Susan. Everyone was staring at a pair of men standing by the door.
Oh my God. Chelsea’s stomach flipped. The man she’d spilled wine on had changed into a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops, but she’d recognize the grin anywhere. Next to him stood the other man she’d chatted with that night. The one she’d confessed her opinions to.
Her lips fell open as they walked toward her. This is insane. Liz knew about it? She turned and ushered Liz back over. “Can you take over for me and close everything out?”
“Of course.” Liz grabbed the microphone. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“No. Just overwhelmed.”
“Good.” Liz turned back to the crowd. “You heard it ladies and gentlemen, that was the final item up for auction this evening. It’s been a pleasure entertaining you all tonight. On behalf of the MacIntosh Fund, we can’t thank you enough. Enjoy the rest of your evening. The bar is open until midnight.”
The band cranked up as the brothers stopped in front of Chelsea.
The one in the suit held out his hand. “Bronx Kingston, pleasure to meet you. Again.”
When he’d caught her ogling the island, she hadn’t had time to take him in. That had been a mistake. Imposing frame. Brown hair cut short. A ghost of stubble along his jaw.
But his eyes. Rich, fresh-ground cinnamon with a hint of amber. Damn. He smiled and her brain rebooted. I should say something. There were words people used in situations like this, weren’t there?
He nodded at the man standing next to him. “Beckett Kingston, my brother. You two had quite the run-in earlier, I believe.”
Chelsea’s cheeks burned. To think she’d been concerned about his dry cleaning bill. Where his brother was poised and polished, Beckett was raw and slightly wild. Between his I-don’t-give-a-damn grin lighting up his face and his bright blue eyes shining like the ocean around Sarabelle Island, Chelsea didn’t know where to look.
She focused on the hibiscus on his shirt. “Nice to meet you both.”
“My apologies on catching you off guard with the bid.” Bronx leaned in and Chelsea found her gaze snapping up to his face. “But I asked your co-worker to keep it a secret. She said you liked surprises.”
Leave it to Liz to come up with that one. Chelsea tried to smile. “It’s an incredibly generous offer, both of you. But I can’t accept it.”
“Of course you can. We’ve already paid.”
“Then you two should go. Enjoy yourselves for a month. I-I can’t accept something so…” She couldn’t even come up with a word to describe it. Bat-shit crazy? That might work.
“Nonsense.” Bronx’s voice took on a rough edge. “You can accept it and you will. We don’t need to bid on the island, we—”
Beckett cut him off. “What my brother means to say, is that we could arrange to stay there whenever we like. We bought the vacation for you, Chelsea.”
Bronx stared at his brother. There was something going on between them, but Chelsea hadn’t the foggiest idea what. At last, Bronx spoke. “Beckett is right. You have to go. It’s the requirement of the bid.”
She blinked. He couldn’t be serious. “Are you telling me you’ll rescind the bid if I don’t agree?”
Bronx flashed her a smile. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Oh, no. She was in serious trouble. She looked to Beckett, but he was nodding in agreement. How could she take such a crazy offer? It was impossible.
Beckett seemed to sense her distress. He cocked his head. “If you’re really so concerned about accepting the gift, we could split it.”
“What do you mean?”
“The three of us. We could all go to Sarabelle for the month. That way it wouldn’t be just you accepting our generosity.”
“You mean you would come? Both of you?”
“If my brother can bear to leave the city, that is. What about it, Bronx? Could you take a month-long vacation?”
Bronx stared at his brother for a moment before turning back to Chelsea. “If that’s the only way to get Chelsea to accept, then yes. I’ll come.”
She thought about Liz’s comments. How she needed a change. Something crazy and wild. A vacation on a private island with the sexy-as-sin men in front of her certainly qualified.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Chelsea nodded. “If you both will be there, then yes, I’ll go.”
Want to find out what happens next? Grab your copy of Double Dare now.
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About the Author
Growing up surrounded by three generations of romance fans, Marie learned early on what an escape a good book could be.
After a stint in a high-pressure career, she traded in the suits and late nights for her first passion, writing. If she’s not working on her next steamy romance, she’s spending time with her family in the great outdoors.
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