The Bachelor Auction(46)
She hoped.
Or did she?
Rejecting the thought of Brock sitting in the living room, waiting for her, she opened the door and glanced down the hall to the right and to the left.
All clear.
With a wince, she hobbled a few feet then lost her balance, nearly face planting against the wall and knocking out a tooth.
“Need help?” asked an amused voice to her left.
Slowly she turned. Brock’s smile was easy, wide.
“I’m fine. I was just…” She searched for a better excuse than I couldn’t sleep but she had nothing. “I’m having trouble sleeping.”
His eyes twinkled. “Me too.”
She was quiet. What was she supposed to say?
“Whiskey?” He offered his arm.
She stared down at it then back up at him. Decision made, she slid her hand through. He started walking them down the rest of the hallway, then with a heave she was in his arms as he carried her down the stairs.
She’d always thought of herself as curvy, not light as a feather, but Brock carried her like she weighed nothing more than a cup of rice. She remembered how strong he’d felt when he’d picked her up at the party—how good he smelled. Memories of their first meeting surfaced as his body flexed around hers.
He deposited her on the couch, went into the kitchen, and returned with two mugs of whiskey.
“Thanks.” Her voice was rough, edged with the tension already coiling in her belly at Brock’s proximity and her own sudden change of heart. Maybe it would be best if he was still angry with her, projecting all his feelings onto the help. At least then she wouldn’t fall for him, right?
“I see why you couldn’t sleep.” His light southern drawl wrapped around her like liquid heat. “If you stare any harder at the wall it’s going to crack.”
Jane immediately looked down into her mug and took a slow slip, careful not to cough and spew whiskey all over him. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Want to talk about it?”
No. Because talking meant bonding, bonding meant hurt later on down the road. And she didn’t want to focus on the future, a future where she wouldn’t be able to sit in the world’s most perfect ranch house with the world’s most beautiful man and sip whiskey out of a nice brown mug.
“Tell me about the auction.”
That did it. His smile fell and a cold expression chilled his features. He sat back and took a giant swig of whiskey that seemed to go on forever. He finally set his empty cup down and made a face. “It’s for charity.”
She almost laughed out loud at his disgusted expression. “And you hate being charitable?”
“Hardly.” He snorted. “I’d much rather throw millions of dollars at a charity by hosting a dinner; even the ball that the old man’s throwing is a good idea. Ten thousand dollars a head is a good way to bring in money to the foundation. It’s the whole auction part that’s…” He cursed. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about you?”
“You’re much more interesting.” He’d brought up a blanket and she tried pulling it over her ankle, but before she could do it herself Brock was at her side. He pulled the blanket over her and within the same breath he lifted her foot, sat down next to her, and placed her leg over his lap.
Jane’s breath hitched as he ran his fingers over her ankle in a smooth caress before locking eyes with her. “Is this okay?”
She gave him a jerky nod, mentally groaning at how eager she must look for his touch, his proximity.
Oh, this was bad.
So bad.
His hand started to move up her calf. Oh, this was good, so very good.
“You were saying.” Somehow, miraculously, she found her voice as he continued to lightly knead the muscles in her calf.
“The auction is stupid. Plain and simple.”
She frowned. “Then why did you say yes?”
His hand froze and he went completely still. “Saying no wasn’t an option.”
“But…” Her eyes narrowed. “You always have a choice.”
“It would seem that way. I believe that’s how life is supposed to work—you’re in control of your own destiny, you always have a choice, but what people never admit is that although you can say no to something, there might be horrible consequences. Which basically means it’s not really a choice. The word ‘choice’ is just there so that it seems fair, so that it looks good, so the situation looks balanced, when it’s never been balanced, not for a long time.”
Jane wasn’t sure if they were still talking about the auction or something else.
“So, what do you think about the auction? Don’t lie and say you have no opinion about it, either.”