The Auction: Young Adult Romance, New Adult Romance, Forbidden Love (Magnolia Grove Book 1) by J.B. McGee Page A
Authors: J.B. McGee
Tags: General Fiction
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me questioning everything.
After a leisurely trip to the ladies’ room, my stomach rumbles. But I can’t go back to the tent. I’m sure Holden’s made his way back, and I’m just not ready to face him again. Or any of those other people who realize that my fiancé bid on someone else’s package.
My feet make their way to the guest pantry. While I told Holden I didn’t want to eat at the cabana, the few bites he fed me were enough to spark sharp hunger pangs. At least, I think that’s what these are. Who knows what’s causing the myriad of foreign feelings in my body tonight?
Of course, to get to the pantry, I have to travel through a maze of halls. Prior to reaching my destination, I glance at the little nook Amie, Holden, and I used to hide in when playing hide and seek. It’s an empty space below the staircase. Literally the perfect place to tuck yourself away without being seen.
I’ve always thought it was weird that nothing was put there. No closet. No shelves. It would have been a perfect place for an upholstered bench or even a desk. The area has always seemed so wasted.
“I told you.”
A familiar voice catches me off guard. I quickly slide in like I used to do, feeling like a five-year-old child. My chest begins to bounce at an increasing rate, as if I’ve just run a marathon. My hands cover it like that’s going to make it slow down. Instead of panting, I try to slow my breathing down by inhaling and exhaling through my nose, but despite all this effort, my pulse pounding in my ears nearly drowns out the other voices.
“I told you I should have bid on her package or you should have at least made yours closer to something she liked. Now she’s pissed, and I have no fucking idea where she is.”
My eyes widen. He planned this?
“You’re forgetting the goal was for you to not get her package, which you didn’t. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”
Charity?
Yeah, I’m not hungry. I’m about to throw up. My arm moves, and my fingers cover my mouth to keep me from spraying this little hideaway with vomit.
“The goal was to not get her package, but to make it look like an innocent mistake.” There’s a pause. I wish I could see what is going on, but I’m also praying they don’t find me. “She thinks I’m an insensitive asshole because the package was what I like and not what she likes.”
Charity laughs. “Well, aren’t you?”
He huffs.
“Anyway, look,” she says. “You told me if I arranged this pretend date so you could go on a business trip with your little boyfriend, Ken, then I could get a promotion.”
Ken? As in Ken McIvoy? As in a man? What. The. Fuck?
Of course, it all makes sense. I was a business transaction to him. I was a way to cover his secret. He didn’t want to touch me, to kiss me, to make love to me.
“In case you haven’t noticed or need reminding,” Charity continues. “I’m a good girl. I’m not an expert like you at being sneaky, lying, and or hurting people’s feelings.”
Good girls don’t participate in shit like this. I want to tackle her, strangle her, and beat the ever loving crap out of her. No wonder she was being such a bitch to me at the auction.
Bile starts to quickly rise in my throat. I dash for the bathroom, not even caring if they see me. Tucking my chin down, I focus my eyes on the floor. I run smack-dab into something solid. Funny because it’s not like there are any steel beams or columns between me and the bathroom. Feet come into view, and I know whose they are.
Instead of bouncing back, arms are around me in an instant. I gasp for a breath, for air, and my nose is filled with a scent I’ve become all too accustomed with tonight. He pushes my head against his chest, muffling my growing wails and cushioning the fall of my tears.
“Shh. I got you, tigress.”
“I…” My body heaves. “I…h-he…O-Oliver…Ch-Charity.”
“I heard it all. You don’t have to say anything else.”
There’s no ‘I told
After a leisurely trip to the ladies’ room, my stomach rumbles. But I can’t go back to the tent. I’m sure Holden’s made his way back, and I’m just not ready to face him again. Or any of those other people who realize that my fiancé bid on someone else’s package.
My feet make their way to the guest pantry. While I told Holden I didn’t want to eat at the cabana, the few bites he fed me were enough to spark sharp hunger pangs. At least, I think that’s what these are. Who knows what’s causing the myriad of foreign feelings in my body tonight?
Of course, to get to the pantry, I have to travel through a maze of halls. Prior to reaching my destination, I glance at the little nook Amie, Holden, and I used to hide in when playing hide and seek. It’s an empty space below the staircase. Literally the perfect place to tuck yourself away without being seen.
I’ve always thought it was weird that nothing was put there. No closet. No shelves. It would have been a perfect place for an upholstered bench or even a desk. The area has always seemed so wasted.
“I told you.”
A familiar voice catches me off guard. I quickly slide in like I used to do, feeling like a five-year-old child. My chest begins to bounce at an increasing rate, as if I’ve just run a marathon. My hands cover it like that’s going to make it slow down. Instead of panting, I try to slow my breathing down by inhaling and exhaling through my nose, but despite all this effort, my pulse pounding in my ears nearly drowns out the other voices.
“I told you I should have bid on her package or you should have at least made yours closer to something she liked. Now she’s pissed, and I have no fucking idea where she is.”
My eyes widen. He planned this?
“You’re forgetting the goal was for you to not get her package, which you didn’t. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”
Charity?
Yeah, I’m not hungry. I’m about to throw up. My arm moves, and my fingers cover my mouth to keep me from spraying this little hideaway with vomit.
“The goal was to not get her package, but to make it look like an innocent mistake.” There’s a pause. I wish I could see what is going on, but I’m also praying they don’t find me. “She thinks I’m an insensitive asshole because the package was what I like and not what she likes.”
Charity laughs. “Well, aren’t you?”
He huffs.
“Anyway, look,” she says. “You told me if I arranged this pretend date so you could go on a business trip with your little boyfriend, Ken, then I could get a promotion.”
Ken? As in Ken McIvoy? As in a man? What. The. Fuck?
Of course, it all makes sense. I was a business transaction to him. I was a way to cover his secret. He didn’t want to touch me, to kiss me, to make love to me.
“In case you haven’t noticed or need reminding,” Charity continues. “I’m a good girl. I’m not an expert like you at being sneaky, lying, and or hurting people’s feelings.”
Good girls don’t participate in shit like this. I want to tackle her, strangle her, and beat the ever loving crap out of her. No wonder she was being such a bitch to me at the auction.
Bile starts to quickly rise in my throat. I dash for the bathroom, not even caring if they see me. Tucking my chin down, I focus my eyes on the floor. I run smack-dab into something solid. Funny because it’s not like there are any steel beams or columns between me and the bathroom. Feet come into view, and I know whose they are.
Instead of bouncing back, arms are around me in an instant. I gasp for a breath, for air, and my nose is filled with a scent I’ve become all too accustomed with tonight. He pushes my head against his chest, muffling my growing wails and cushioning the fall of my tears.
“Shh. I got you, tigress.”
“I…” My body heaves. “I…h-he…O-Oliver…Ch-Charity.”
“I heard it all. You don’t have to say anything else.”
There’s no ‘I told
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