Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Paddles are thrust into the air. It’s one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever witnessed.
Could I just donate a large sum of money and spare us all the trouble?
Sweat dots the nape of my neck as the bids for Shawn increase.
“One thousand dollars for Shawn! Going once, going twice—a date with Shawn is sold to Mrs. Ferguson,” Gloria says, pointing at a petite older lady with a purse embroidered with cats. “Congratulations!”
Fuck my life.
And fuck Banks’s life since we’re at it.
I turn to Gloria, lips parted to announce my benevolent donation, but the wind is knocked out of me.
What is she doing here?
Bianca Brewer stands in the entryway, chatting with a woman holding a long roll of raffle tickets like they’re long-lost friends. Except they’re not. Bianca has never been to Kismet Beach before.
“On to Miguel,” Gloria says. “Since the last bachelor raised so much money, let’s start a bit higher this time. Do I have five hundred?”
My body catches fire as Bianca moves across the room.
Landry Security assigned me to her security detail three years ago. Despite having a binder of information before meeting her, nothing could have prepared me for the powerhouse of Bianca Elaine Brewer.
She’s five foot five with shoulder-length auburn hair. Her eyes are pieces of jade that can see right through you. She has high cheekbones, deep curves, and a cute button nose.
She fascinates me.
The woman is wildly intelligent. Watching her bring a boardroom of men to their knees is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. She’s curious and confident yet humble and kind. And she doesn’t give a damn about what she should and shouldn’t do. She does what she wants.
Unfortunately, that can’t be me.
Bianca looks up. Her green eyes shine when they connect with mine.
Shit.
“Hey,” she says, mouthing the word from across the room.
I struggle to remain unaffected, but the corners of my lips lift. She notices. She always finds the chink in my armor. A smile creeps over her pink pout, hitting me directly in the cock.
Get yourself together, Carmichael.
“Going once, going twice—a date with Miguel is sold to Mrs. Daniels for twelve hundred dollars!” Gloria announces.
My brows pull together as Jason, Bianca’s brother and my best friend—my only friend—enters the building. His solemn expression is replaced with amusement as he realizes what he’s about to witness.
I flash him a pointed look to watch himself. It only makes him laugh.
Maybe I don’t like him either.
“Next up is Colin,” Gloria says. “Let’s start the bidding at five hundred. Do I see six?”
Jason and Bianca take a seat in the back row. He folds his hands on his lap like he’s settling in for a show. She takes a bid paddle from the raffle ticket lady.
This is the nail in Banksy’s coffin.
“I have six,” Gloria says. “Do I see seven?”
Bianca’s eyes find mine again.
“There’s seven. Do I have eight?” Gloria asks.
Bianca lifts a brow, pressing her lips together.
What does that mean? Do you want a date with Colin?
As if she reads my mind, she raises her paddle.
I raise a brow back.
“There’s eight. Do I have nine?” Gloria asks the room.
Bianca shrugs innocently, daring me to react. But I don’t. And I won’t.
She might get under my skin like no one I’ve met before, but I refuse to cross that line.
I was the lead on her security detail for two and a half years, and for two and a half years the woman whittled away at my restraint. It’s impossible to resist her. Her little smile and the way her nose wrinkles when she’s being cheeky. Her penchant for burgers and vanilla shakes. Her perfume and her ability to wear a T-shirt and cocktail dress with the same understated elegance.
The way she says my name.
Our relationship shifted over time. It began strictly professionally before transitioning to more of a friendship. And then, during the past six months, we were toeing a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
Conversations weren’t strictly business. Smiles were exchanged when no one was looking. Our touches lingered long after contact should’ve been broken.
I wasn’t thinking of her as my boss. I was thinking about her bent over her desk. I was imagining her in my bed wearing my T-shirt. I had visions of her in my truck, her hand in mine, doing mundane tasks like running errands.
But it was harmless. It was simply a war inside me that I was winning.
And then one night changed everything. That’s the night six months ago that I asked for an immediate transfer … and I haven’t seen her privately since.
“Sold! A date with Colin to Mrs. Breckenridge for one thousand one hundred dollars.” Gloria peeks around the others and smiles at me. “I’m starting the bid on our final bachelor with a bid of my own at five hundred dollars. Do I have six hundred for Foxx?”