The Auction (Magnolia Grove #1) - SERIES COMPLETE

Chapter 3 - {Holden}

THE LIGHTS OF the ballroom flicker as the emcee, Harry, takes the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for dinner. Please take your seats. The women of Magnolia Grove have a fun-filled evening planned for you. Sit back, relax, and enjoy."

Cammie re-enters the tent, and my eyes follow her as she sits. Within moments, she glances over both shoulders. Sweet Cammie. No one knows except for me. Taking that as my cue, I walk up behind her, pull my chair out, and sit. "Hey, tigress."

She inhales sharply. "Why do you always call me that?"

I grin. "I don't know. Seems to fit your, er, wild personality." I'm not ready to tell her the real reasons for the nickname. That's something I've always envisioned being a special moment between us, one in which we're alone for starters. Ideally, in love. That time is definitely not now.

Rolling her eyes, she glances at Oliver, who is, as usual, completely ignoring her. She turns back to me. "Ha. Very funny." She's not laughing. She's not even smiling. "Did you pay someone off to be able to sit with us?"

"You think I need to pay someone off to be assigned to your table?" I place my hand under the long tablecloth and on her thigh. Her legs tighten as her eyes widen. "Well, do you?" My fingers lightly wander up her leg, making their way to her exposed pussy. Damn, her skin feels like satin beneath my fingers.

Shaking her head, she swallows. Her eyes are hooded, and her lips slightly part. Her hand captures mine, moving it to my leg instead of hers. "Perhaps you should find your original seat, though."

I chuckle. "This is my original seat." I grab the place card in front of me and flip it around so she can see it. "Says so right here."

She blows out an unsteady breath and shakes her head before smoothing back her hair.

"So, let's cut to the chase. Tell me all about your package." I know all about her package. "I mean, the one that's up for auction."

Cammie raises her chin, then drags in a gulp of air. "There's no way in hell I'm telling you about my package." It's all I can do to not laugh at how cute she is.

"You want my jacket?" I smirk, knowing the shiver wasn't because she was cold. This tent, with the heaters, is quite toasty.

"Keep your jacket"—her voice softens—"and your hands, to yourself."

"I don't need to know about your package. I am pretty sure I have you figured out better than you have me defined."

The server places the first entrée in front of me as I pick up my fork and knife, then cut into the fancy salad. It looks more like a floral bouquet, complete with pansies. I've never understood the point of making food look so ridiculous, but whatever.

Cammie mirrors my actions and raises her fork to her mouth, taking a bite of the crisp greens. She places a hand below her nose, covering the fact she's probably about to talk with food in her mouth, as if that makes it more acceptable. "Asshole is how I have you defined. Last time I checked, it fit you as perfectly as your suit."

"So you think my suit fits nicely?" I can't contain my grin. I didn't change pants. I left them wet after the cabana fiasco in an effort to keep my cock down.

Nearly choking on her food, Cammie quickly picks up her glass of wine, taking a long swig. That's the only thing she's been able to do to catch Oliver's attention the entire night.

He pats her back like he's burping a damn infant. "Hell, Cammie, don't make a scene."

"Cam?" I clench my fists in my lap. I don't even realize how tight my jaw is until I hear my teeth starting to grind. "You all right?"