Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
His comment reveals he has no issues reading me, but it leaves me flabbergasted.
How can a stranger know, but not a man I’ve wasted years trying to get to know?
Needing an ego boost, I ask, “What if I’m a three-date type of girl?”
Fabien dips me, rocks his hips forward to ensure I know he has the goods to change my mind before he flips me back up. “I can wait… if you can.”
“You have no idea,” I murmur under my breath before spinning away from him so his erect crotch digs into my ass instead of the region of my body not thrumming for him.
My twirl captures the narrowed glare Caleb is hitting Fabien with before he can tear it away, and it has me torn between continuing with my ruse or walking away from the torment for good.
If I had a clear head, my decision would be easier, but since I don’t, I snatch a flute of champagne off a waiter veering past the makeshift dance floor before downing the contents in one hit.
The buzz is immediate, and it blocks out the pain enough for me to recall you don’t need to be married to get off.
You just need to be heartless.
“Sorry?” I murmur before peering up at Fabien, whose torso has kept me upright for the past thirty minutes. The last glass of champagne pushed me over the edge. There’s no denying my drunken state. “Did you say something?”
“The auction.” Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes when he nudges his head to the stage in front of us. “Didn’t you say you signed up?”
I nod so fast I get extra woozy. “But that’s the last event on the schedule.”
While I dig the event schedule out of my purse to check, Fabien says, “Perhaps they wanted us to get out of here earlier than planned?”
“You want me to leave with you?” I don’t know why I sound so shocked. He’s been throwing out feelers all night. I’m just not used to receiving them from strangers anymore.
“Yes. If that’s what you want?” His last sentence eases the worry swirling in my stomach, but not enough for me to say yes.
“Maybe.” After a smile to slacken the disappointed expression on his face, I nudge my head to Elaine, announcing for the bachelorettes to make their way to the stage. “Guess it depends on who wins me in the auction.”
“Oh, I plan to win,” Fabien states matter-of-factly before digging his wallet out of his jacket’s breast pocket like he plans to pay with cash.
His eagerness makes me smile before my happiness dissipates from searching for Octavia amongst the sea of many.
I find her hanging toward the back, nowhere near the stage.
She wants to chicken out as much as me, but with alcohol lacing my veins for the first time in months, I refuse to let either of us do that. “This is the part we’ve been waiting for.” I wiggle my tongue around my mouth to loosen up my words since they hardly make any sense before asking, “How do I look?”
Octavia drags her eyes over my face. “You look… drunk.”
Needing her to stabilize my wobbly legs, I hook my arm around her elbow then drag her toward the stage. “Goodie… ‘cause that is the exact look I was going for.”
The murkiness in my head clears a little when half a dozen bachelorettes are auctioned before me. The heated stare of dozens of men isn’t the cause of the redness of my cheeks when I’m asked to join the auctioneer on stage, but Caleb’s squinted gaze wouldn’t have you believing that. He glares at me while the auctioneer reminds the bidders that they’re purchasing PG13 lunch dates only, and that there’s no stipulated time the bachelorette must remain on said date if she is uncomfortable, but her words seem to offer him no comfort. He is ropeable.
“Are we clear with the rules?” the auctioneer checks before she commences bidding.
The room hums in agreement, but it seems as if one bidder didn’t get the memo when he commences bidding at a thousand dollars. That’s more than what Caleb charges for an hour’s performance, and he has to take his clothes off for that much money.
I’m not sure I want to do that with Fabien just yet. He seems like a nice guy, and from what I felt grinding against my backside the past almost two hours, I’m sure he has what it takes to make a girl extremely happy. I’m just not convinced that girl is me. He reminds me a little too much of Warren, and that sends alarm bells ringing in my head.
Doubt creeps in from all sides when Fabien immediately counterbids a bid from the back of the room. The increment is small, but the swiftness of his bid exposes his eagerness.