by McGee,J. B.
The thumping in my chest slows at the deep rumble of Holden’s voice. “I think she heard all the explanation she needs to hear tonight.” Hearing him go all alpha protective male over me causes me to lean into his rock hard abs even more. I shouldn’t.
Oliver’s head tilts.
If someone had told me earlier tonight, I’d be grateful for Holden’s presence, I’d have laughed at them. I thought this evening couldn’t get any worse after I nearly slept with him. But Holden has turned out to be the best part. I can’t believe I mistook him for Oliver. To think I was so blind I couldn’t even tell Holden wasn’t my fiancé.
My gay fiancé.
What the actual fuck? No matter how many times that goes through my mind, it’s just not sinking in. I don’t care that he’s gay. I have gay friends. It’s that he betrayed me. Now, I feel like a fool.
My body shudders. I know Holden’s fingers were inside of me earlier, but I put a halt to it as soon as I realized it wasn’t Oliver. It’s not like I intentionally cheated.
I stopped it because I wanted to honor our commitment. A small sarcastic laugh escapes. What commitment? I lean into Holden even more, which I didn’t think was possible. He pulls me to his side, one of his arms wrapping around my waist, which if I’m honest, sends shivers down my spine.
Oliver closes the tiny distance that movement created, as if challenging Holden. He reaches his hand out and squeezes my shoulder.
“Don’t.” I jerk back. “Don’t touch me. You’ve been lying to me, cheating on me.” Did he wrap his junk? Dammit, I need to see a doctor. I always told him if he needed to stray, to just leave me, but not to double dip. Has he given me shit?
Most women in Magnolia Grove would stay, to avoid the mortification of a break up, but I refuse to live my life that way. There’s only so much I am willing to sacrifice. My worth isn’t defined or dependent on a man. I sure as hell don’t want to be sick for the sake of some arbitrary social standard.
“It’s not what you think.” He shakes his head. “Can we please go somewhere private and talk?” Oliver swallows. “Cammie, please. Let’s not make a scene.”
My face twists in disbelief. Are you kidding me? I stare at him, my eyes wide. This is the longest I think he’s ever looked at me in the entire life of our relationship, the most he’s ever pleaded for me. But it’s not because he cares an ounce about me, is it? If he did, he wouldn’t have used me like this. He wouldn’t have betrayed me this way. No. He’s afraid I’m going to oust him, ruin his image.
But it’s not just his image. I twist the ring on my left hand. It’s now our image.
The wedding. Shit. Everyone’s going to be wondering what happened. I’m the one who’s going to have to return gifts, notify people that the wedding is off, and cancel everything from the ceremony to the honeymoon.
Cancel our life together.
How are we going to explain this? It’s not him that’s going to bear the brunt of the rumors. It’s going to be me.
Did Cammie not meet his needs? Never mind Cammie doesn’t have the junk to physically do that.
Was Cammie not good enough for him? It won’t matter that I’m too good for him. Because Oliver is supposedly this fantastic catch. Why would I ever choose to leave him?
Either way, I’m screwed. It’s my fault for not being enough for him, or it’s my fault for thinking he’s not enough for me. That’s before people even find out that I’m not on the team for which Oliver swings.
That will only further the rumor mill. Not only was I insufficient, I was so horrible in bed, I led him to the opposite sex. As if that’s even possible. But that’s how twisted people are in Magnolia Grove. The truth is always distorted. In a way, I understand why Holden said the hell with it all.
Holden steps around Oliver, pulling me with him, taking me with him. “You ready?”
Nodding my head, my eyes meet with Oliver’s for a moment, and then I look at Charity. How could she do this? Her of all people. Sweet Charity. Boy does she have everyone fooled. Maybe not Holden. He’s never seemed interested in her. I wonder if he’s always seen through her. Clearly, he is a better judge of character than I am.
Oliver reaches out and grabs my other arm. “Let me explain. Goddamn,” Oliver says through clenched teeth with an urgency and panic I’ve never heard from him. I ignore shrug out of his grasp as Holden pushes us them.
Having grown up at the Magnolia Grove Country Club, I know every nook and cranny. But so does Holden. I asked to go through the back, but that’s now the way he’s going. That way would require us passing the kitchen. I didn’t even have to request for him to take me to the least crowded exit, but that’s what he’s doing. I know Holden wouldn’t care if this whole place saw us together, but he knows I do. So, the fact he picked this one, thus saving me from further humiliation, makes my heart thump in my throat. This side of him tonight is one I didn’t know ever existed. Well, that’s not completely true. Maybe I saw a small glimpse before he turned into the cocky bad boy.
He’s tall, at least six foot to my five foot four self. His strides are so long I can barely keep up. “Slow down,” I whisper, squeezing the thick muscles in his arm.
His feet stop so quickly that I nearly pummel into him. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want us to get stopped by anyone.” He chuckles. “It’s not like I’m running, though.”
“Um. Right. Well, I’m running…in about five inch heels.”
He glances down to my newest pair of Christian Louboutin’s and shakes his head. He keeps walking, pulling me along with him. This time, his pace is still brisk, but I’m able to keep up without feeling like I’m running one of those marathons where all the girls wear stilettos. What would possess someone to do that? I’ve yet to figure it out.
He opens the door and motions for me to go out first. Once we’re outside, darkness shrouds us. He pulls me between the bushes and the stone exterior of the building. The band echoes in the distance along with the roar of talking and laughter. My heart beats to the bass of the drums. I’m panting from the burn in my lungs, thighs, and calves.
An idea crosses my mind. I release his hand and double over laughing at just the thought. My giggles come faster and harder, almost like the tears I cried into his shirt earlier.
“What’s so funny, tigress?” My eyes start to adjust to the darkness. Holden’s lips twitch.
“I…” My stomach is tight from the running and my laugh attack. “I just got the best idea.” I hold my waist to relieve the intense aching. Glancing up, he’s cocked his head and has the sexiest amused look on his face. “I just got the best idea for the auction next year.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows lift.
“OMG.”
“Are you gonna tell me, or are you just gonna laugh hysterically for the rest of the night?”
“I think there should be a race.”
“O…kay.”
“Like, the guys should have to not only buy a pair, but also wear Christian Louboutin’s for about an hour. It could be a charity marathon, or something. Y’all can run in them.”
His face deadpans. “That’s what you think is so funny?”
“Yeah.” My giggles are manic. I can’t stop laughing, especially because his expressions are just as priceless as he said I am a few minutes ago.
“Hmm.” His eyes are sparkling. Is he actually entertaining the idea? He puts his hand out. “Let’s get you outta here.”
Okay. Maybe it wasn’t that funny. The muscle cramps in my abdomen make me think I need to work my core more. But it sure as hell beats crying, though.
When I right myself, he brushes the extra tears I didn’t even realize had tumbled down my cheek away. “You’re beautiful…” I can’t breathe. Not with him this close. Not with him looking at me like that. “Even when you’re devastated.” He licks his lips, and all I can think about is his tongue. How smooth it was against mine, how good he tastes, and how all I want to do is forget about everything that’s happened and get lost in
him like I was in the cabana. To pretend I don’t know it’s him, to act like we’re just two strangers without any strings attached letting our senses, our tongues, and our fingers do all the exploration. No words this time to ruin it. My engagement, my life, is upside down. And all I want to do is have Holden send me into a euphoric bliss, a faraway paradise.
As if he can read my mind, he sighs. “C’mon before I do something I’ll regret.”
I don’t move. “What would you regret?” Oh you know what he’d regret.
“Fuck, Cammie. Seriously?” His eyes shift to the sky.
“Yeah. Seriously.”
“Kissing you. I’d regret kissing you.”
My stomach feels like it’s in my throat, a large lump forming. Even though it should feel like someone’s thrown a bucket of ice on me, my body is ablaze. This is dangerous. I’m flirting with him, provoking him, pushing him, egging him on, yearning for him to do something he’d regret. Wait. Does he regret kissing me in the cabana? “You regret kissing me, or you’d regret it if you did it again? I’m confused.”
“I’d regret kissing you again tonight,” he says, as he steps in closer, boxing me in against the exterior of the building.
“Why not the first time?”
He glances away, then back to me. “When I kissed you the first time, I thought you wanted it. I thought you’d seen the woman spill shit all over my pants. I thought you’d know I’d go to the cabana.” He sighs. “That you were waiting on me. I hoped that maybe you’d come to your senses. I thought you were there for me. That you finally wanted me.”
“Oh.” I feel like such a bitch right now. I was nasty to him tonight. After it happened, I was so mortified and self-absorbed that I never really considered his feelings. Well, I did, but I thought something completely different. After everything that’s happened with our families, I know I shouldn’t trust him, but he’s never lied to me. This is a glimpse of the Holden I thought I knew before he started playing the role of the cocky and arrogant asshole. I want to finally say what I’ve thought all these years. That I want him too, especially after seeing how sensitive he was with the whole Oliver situation. But I don’t. Because I can’t.
“Yeah. I don’t regret the first time. It was everything I thought it’d be and more.” His lips curve into a mischievous smile.
I know if I could see my face, it’d be flaming crimson. “I don’t know what to say to that. Thank you?”
I’m not sure I’ve ever fully appreciated his perfectly straight teeth or how sexy he looks when he tilts his head and gazes at me the way he does—the way he sets everything on fire inside me. He was the only boy in school that was cute who didn’t have to work hard for it, at least to me. Holden never had to have braces, glasses, and he didn’t go through an awkward stage like most of the other boys. He’s always been more than cute standing before me, though. Most guys we went to school with are just average now. But not Holden Masters. He’s aged like a fine wine. He’s sex on a stick. “The next time I kiss you, I want it to be because you know it’s me, but more than that, I want you to want it to be me. I don’t want to be your rebound…or play second to anyone else. I refuse to be leftovers.”
“Leftovers.”
He nods. “Leftovers.”
I can’t help but wonder if that has double meaning. After everything that happened, is that what he thinks he is? Someone who wasn’t important enough to be a top priority, and thus was just left behind. I give him a small smile. “You’re so full of surprises tonight, Holden Masters.” Because he is. Even the anxiety he’s caused when I look back on it now just makes my heart flutter. I don’t think I realized how much I’ve missed this version of him.
If someone had told me before this evening he could be so kind, considerate, and comforting, I would have laughed, rolled my eyes, and pretended they’d never said it. He’s still cocky as hell, but this little bit of sensitive Holden I’m seeing makes him so much more attractive than he already is.
Or is it because you know what it feels like to have the heat of his hands scorch your skin? That you want more?
He tilts his head to the side, like he’s studying me. “You have no idea how much I’m having a love hate relationship with surprises tonight, Camellia Spencer.”
My entire life I’ve hated being called Camellia. Not sure why, but I’ve just despised it. Maybe because it just sounds yuppie. So Magnolia Grove. Surely it’s not because when we were growing up, in that time period where boys are mean to girls they like, he’d call me that.
Wait. Has Holden always liked me?
No, because it was later when he started calling me tigress. He was well past the age limit for that phase. And what does tigress even mean? Why would you pick a nickname for someone without them knowing why you call them that? If he was trying to annoy me, it didn’t really work because I didn’t understand the meaning behind it. Then again, I guess it annoyed me more not knowing. Maybe that was his plan. He’s always had a way of confusing the hell out of me.
But yet, hearing Holden say either of those names for me again after all these years is different. Surprises. Some sweet, and some of which are fucking nightmares. “I think I have some idea about the surprises.” Case and point being that none of the nightmares seem to involve Holden Masters at this point. What the hell am I going to do?
The Date is $0.99 and available for pre-order with a release date of October 29, 2016!
Thank you for reading. It’d mean a lot if you’d take a few minutes to leave a review. I read them all, and I love getting reader feedback.
J.B. McGee is a mother, wife, and the Amazon Top 100 author of the best selling This Series. Amazon Crossing acquired the German rights to her debut novel, Broken. Heartfall, her coming of age novel about a bullied ballerina, is a #1 best seller in the Teen and Young Adult Performing Arts genre. Skipping Stones, a military romance about a young woman strongly influenced by her faith and her family all the while searching for her true love, is a #1 best seller in Women's Christian Fiction.
When J.B.'s not writing, she enjoys reading as well as watching and live-chatting her favorite television shows with her friends. Her favorite shows are Quantico, Blindspot, Grey’s Anatomy, The Bachelor/Bachelorette, Below Deck, The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, and Scandal (mainly because of her love of Scott Foley).
Born and raised in Aiken, South Carolina, she attended Converse College and eventually earned her Bachelor of Arts degree in Early Childhood Education from The University of South Carolina-Aiken in 2006.
In college, she was told by her children’s literature professor she would be the one student from her class to be an author. McGee shook her head and laughed. But in 2012, over six years after that statement was made and after a love of reading had been reignited, she gave writing a shot. J.B. gladly ate crow when she emailed her first book to the above mentioned children’s literature professor thanking her and acknowledging the accuracy of her prophecy.
In 2011, it was discovered that not only do both of her children, but also she and her husband, have mitochondrial disease. Affecting 1 in 2500 people, it has no cure or treatments. Being a writer allows J.B. to care for her family’s unique needs while also providing a platform for raising awareness for this disease.
She is a hopeless romantic who loves to escape into fairy tales—some she reads and some she creates.
J.B. McGee and her family now reside in Buford, Georgia.
Deb Hart. What to say that I haven’t said in every other book? You are priceless to me. There is a little bit of you in each of these books. I can’t imagine doing this without you. I don’t want to ever have to.
Georgette Geras. Your encouragement, your positivity, and incredible beta feedback are invaluable to me. I am so glad Heartfall brought us together.
April Holm. When I’m stuck like glue, dangling on the cliffs of writer’s block, you bring the rope to bring me back in, then sprinkle some adhesive remover. Thank you for making time to read this one.
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br /> Karen Russell. I can’t imagine sending a book out into the world without your eagle eyes proofing it first. I appreciate you always being my last reader and our chats.
Emily Lawrence. Thank you, thank you, thank you for squeezing this manuscript into your busy schedule. There is no doubt my manuscripts are better because of you.
Katie Ashley. Thank you for agreeing to edit the first chapter of The Auction, but actually going through it all in just a few days. I’ve missed your comments. You make me a better writer.
April Goleb. You have worked so hard to pull together yet another release, this time on short notice. Thank you for all you do for me, for being my special special.
Bloggers. Without you, my books don’t reach people. If they don’t reach readers, they don’t have life breathed into them. You are the life support. Thank you for believing in me enough to spend your time and energy reading and sharing my words.
Readers. Thank you for being a part of my dreams coming true.
