And that was it. It was just that simple with Lola. She might have liked to act all tough and hard, but at the center of it, she was as soft and forgiving as anyone I’d ever known. If she said Fiona was a friend, then Sophia and I both understood what that meant. Fiona was now a part of our circle. I still felt a twinge whenever I thought about her and Caleb hugging, but Lola had a gift at reading people, and if she thought Fiona was a good person, then I knew I needed to give her a chance.
The four of us chatted for a bit, getting to know the newest member of our circle, and I was remiss to admit that she was actually pretty cool. Lola explained that she was going to have Fiona take her place in the auction since she planned to get up on stage and profess her love to Grayson.
The whole thing was terribly romantic, and despite my aversion to relationships, I was insanely happy that my best friend had found someone who made her smile in a way I’d never seen before. She deserved it.
Chapter Ten
Caleb
I watched the stage with my jaw clenched so tight it began to ache. When the MC announced that an auction was about to begin, I’d been momentarily confused. I hadn’t heard anything about an auction.
Then Lola, Daphne, and Sophia had taken the stage and it all started to make sense.
Daphne, along with her friends, was offering herself up on a silver platter for all these bastards with padded pockets. It was charity, for a good cause, blah, blah, blah. Lola rattled on into the mic about offering dates to the highest bidders to raise more money for the Wave Foundation, but all I could think about was some other asshole throwing in enough money to win an evening with Daphne. My Daphne.
I did a mental calculation of my funds in my head. I had my checking account, which, thanks to my salary at Bandwidth, was nothing to sneeze at. There was the savings account I’d set up, the lucrative investment accounts, and the trust fund I’d received at twenty-five and never touched.
I had more than enough, and I was willing to bid it all to keep her out of the clutches of some other fucker.
“Sucks for you, man,” Deacon chuckled. He was way too happy to rub my discomfort in my face. Then karma smiled down on me, and Lola announced that she was pulling herself from the auction because of Grayson and her love for him, yadda, yadda, romantic bullshit, yadda. When she announced that Fiona would be taking her place, it was all I could do not to laugh at the sudden change in Deacon’s demeanor.
“Welcome to the boat,” I mumbled sarcastically. “We’re currently heading up a shit creek and are all out of paddles.”
“For fuck’s sake. I didn’t bring my checkbook. You think they’ll take plastic?” He looked frantic as he pulled out his wallet and started checking all means of payment.
“For our sakes, I really fucking hope so.”
By the time my attention returned to the stage, Sophia had just gone for an impressive hundred grand. She exited the stage, her face white as a ghost beneath her fake smile. She met the man who’d just paid a small fortune for her at the base of the stairs, looking none too happy to see him. They wandered off, but my focus returned to the stage when I heard the dude with the microphone say Daphne’s name.
“Now, gentlemen, don’t be disheartened for losing out on the lovely Sophia, because up next is the equally ravishing Daphne King! She loves rainy days, romance novels, and DIY TV shows.” Jesus, the guy sounded like a shitty game show host. The bidding started at five grand and rose at an unfathomable pace.
“Thirty!” I shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. Daphne’s eyes jerked to mine and she gaped in shock.
“Forty thousand!”
I turned from her to the jackass who’d tried to outbid me. The sight of that dickhead Stefan caused me to bite the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. “Forty-five,” I returned.
His glower landed on me as he countered with another ten thousand. Bastard wanted to get in a bidding war? Fine by me. I had more money than most small countries. I could do this all fucking night.
“Sixty thousand,” I boomed in a confident tone.
He began to fidget, and I knew he was starting to grow concerned. I offered him a cocky smirk. That’s right, asshole. I’ve got more money and a bigger dick. Bring it.
“Sixty-two.”
I chanced a peek at Daphne to see her chewing on her lip anxiously. She hated the idea of Stefan winning just as much as I did.
“Seventy thousand.”
He swallowed hard, and I could see the perspiration building on his brow from three tables away. “Seventy-one.”
Really? Why wouldn’t he just give up? “Eighty.”
“Sold!” Daphne’s shout pulled me from the staring match with that doorknob Stefan. She’d rushed the makeshift auctioneer and was battling for his mic so she could close out the bidding at my last number.
“Well, uh….” The MC laughed awkwardly into the microphone as he struggled with Daphne to get control over it. “Congratulations to the gentleman with the highest bid at eighty thousand dollars!”
Daphne’s release of her death grip on the microphone was unexpected, and the MC stumbled back a few feet before catching himself. Seeing as she was already clearing the stairs and heading in my direction, he turned to the next item up for bid: Fiona.
“Can I talk to you?” Daphne asked once she reached me. She looked at the few remaining people left at our table since Grayson, Lola, Sophia, and the guy who’d won her had all disappeared. “In private?”
I took her elbow and guided her through one of the exits into the massive empty hall just outside the ballroom.
She was twisting her fingers together and biting her lower lip again when she spun around to face me. “I’ll pay you back the money, I swear,” she blurted, leaving me thoroughly confused.
“What?”
“The eighty thousand dollars you bid. I have it. I’ll give it to you.”
I moved closer to her, untangling her hands so I could slip my fingers between hers. Her gaze turned down to them like my touch was unexpected. “Daph, I don’t give a shit about the money.”
Her eyes jerked back up to mine. “That’s a lot of money, Caleb.”
“Yeah, and I’m good for it if that’s what you’re worried about,” I replied shortly, more than a little offended that she’d think I’d bid money I didn’t have.
She gave her head a fierce shake. “No, that’s not… I didn’t mean it like that. I know you have it. You’re not the kind of guy who’d lie like that just to get his way.” That worked wonders in easing some of my ire. “It’s just… you did it for me, because you knew Stefan was bidding. You didn’t have to, but you rescued me again. Paying you back is the least I can do.”
I used her grip on my hand to pull her closer, twining an arm around her tiny waist to hold her against my chest. “Don’t worry about the money, sweetheart. I’d have outbid any of those bastards in there. It was just a coincidence that it turned out to be that guy.”
Her eyes rounded in such a sexy, adorable way that I felt myself growing hard at the sight of it. “Y-you would have?”
A rumble of pure, unadulterated desire vibrated from my chest. “I’ve made it pretty clear how much I want you, Daphne. Do you really think I’d have let any of those pricks get even a second with you if I had the chance to stop it?”
I felt her sway into me. I saw the goose bumps form on her arms, watched as her pupils grew so wide the black nearly swallowed all their color. “I thought you hated me,” she said in a breathy whisper.
“You drive me out of my goddamn head, baby, but I don’t hate you.”
She closed her eyes and pulled in a strong breath before looking at me again, having regained her composure. “I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to tell you that all night. After you left me in the stairwell… well, I thought about what you said, and you were right. I judged you without knowing much of anything about you, and for that I apologize.”
I couldn’t stand it anymore, being so close to her, smellin
g her sweet, floral perfume. That scent made it impossible not to want to taste her, and I lowered my head to do just that when an unwelcome voice burst our cozy little bubble.
“Is that really something you should be doing out here in the open for anyone to see?”
The growl I emitted right then had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with fury. Daphne jerked back so quick I had to grab hold of her waist to keep her upright. Only once she was steady did I bother turning to face the bane of my existence.
My mother hung on my father’s arm like being paraded around at the gala was the highlight of her life. Her appearance was flawless, from her hair, to her makeup, to her tastefully chosen gown. If I hadn’t already known better, I never would have suspected that the woman before me was fond of all her meals in liquid or pill form. “Father,” I grunted unhappily. Then, ever the doting son, I leaned forward to place a kiss on my mother’s cheek and greeted, “Mom. You look beautiful.”
Thanks to recent Botox, her lips barely formed a smile. “Thank you, darling. You as well.” She patted my arm and resumed her clutch on her husband.
My father’s eyes were firmly on Daphne standing just behind me. The predatory gleam in them made my skin crawl. “Since my son isn’t polite enough to introduce me to his new… friend, I’ll do it myself. I’m Christopher McMannus.”
I had to rein in the beast that roared to life within me when she stuck out her hand to shake his. “Daphne King. Nice to meet you.”
His grip on her fingers visibly tightened, bringing them to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles. I wanted to shove my fist so far through his face that he swallowed his teeth. “The pleasure is all mine, dear. You’re quite lovely.”
Two things happened in that very moment that were both fascinating and worrisome. The fascinating thing was the way Daphne’s mouth tightened in displeasure as she tried to hide the fact that my father’s touch made her uncomfortable. The worrisome part was the way my mother glared daggers in her direction, like Daphne was the one to blame for my father’s inappropriate behavior.
“So how do you know my son, Miss King?” Mom asked in a falsely cheerful tone.
“Oh, well….” Daphne struggled to string her words together, looking up at me as if asking for guidance. “We’re friends.”
My father made a noise in the back of his throat. “My son has many friends. He’s quite notorious for it. I do hope a woman of your caliber won’t allow herself to be misled by his charms.”
I was about to lose my fucking mind, but before I could rip into the hypocritical motherfucker, Daphne spoke, rendering anything I’d have to say moot.
“Yes, well, you know what they say about taking stock in what those magazines print. I’ve always been one to form my own opinion about a person. Listening to other people’s gossip leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I think it speaks more to the person’s character who’s spreading the foul rumors than it does the subject of the gossip, wouldn’t you say?”
It was classy and cutting all at the same time. The strength behind her words made their meaning clear: she didn’t give a single shit what my father had to say about me, and held his opinion in low regard.
Christ, she was magnificent. My cock got even harder at the effortless way she’d just flayed the powerful man in front of her like he was absolutely nothing.
She turned and gave me a smile that held a hint of compassion before turning back to my parents. “It was nice to meet you both, but I feel a headache coming on. I think it’s time for me to go home.”
I jumped at the opportunity presented to me. “I’ll drive you.”
She stutter-stepped in her sky-high heels at the pressure I put on the small of her back. “Oh, you don’t—”
“Of course I do,” I interrupted. “If you’re not feeling well, it would be irresponsible of me to let you drive yourself, or get in the back of a stranger’s car.” I looked over my shoulder at my folks, not bothering to examine their expressions as I said, “Enjoy your evening.”
I grasped her hand in mine, holding so tight she had no choice but to follow as I led her far away from the toxic atmosphere that surrounded my parents no matter where they went.
I was taking her home. Once there, I intended to find out just how sorry she really was, and then use that to my full advantage.
Chapter Eleven
Daphne
I watched the city lights pass by outside my window as Caleb guided his car through the quiet streets. The only words I’d spoken since climbing into his passenger seat were directions to my house. Since then we’d both remained silent.
I was still rattled from the events of the entire night.
Finally, Caleb broke through the strained quiet that filled the small space. “I’m sorry about my father.”
I looked over at him, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the lights coming from the dashboard. “He was….” I couldn’t think of a PC term to use when describing Caleb’s dad. I didn’t have the first clue what their relationship was like, and I didn’t want to offend him by telling him his dad was creepy as fuck.
“He’s a bastard,” he finished for me. I let out a small sigh of relief that I wasn’t alone in that opinion.
He glanced in my direction just long enough for me to give him a slight grin. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything.”
That knot in my belly tightened even more when his expression remained set in stone. “The man’s a world-class jackass. When he touched you, I just about lost my shit.”
“Is he always like that?”
His voice was monotone as he answered, “Has been for as long as I can remember. The son of a bitch has treated my mom like a doormat their entire marriage, and she just lies there and takes it. Won’t even consider leaving him even though he cheats on her with any willing woman. What he did tonight”—his jaw ticked furiously—“hitting on you like that in front of her, degrading me? That’s his M.O.”
I’d come across more than my fair share of women just like that in my line of work, and to this day I couldn’t understand that kind of mindset. It made me sick to my stomach when women allowed themselves to be walked on. And sadly, those kinds of women always blamed the other woman, leaving the man completely blameless. They gave our gender a bad name.
Growing up, I’d discovered that women fell into categories. Most of those categories were harmless, but I had learned from experience that there were two types that I couldn’t stand. These types of women were clingers. Men were the most important things in their lives, no matter the consequences. They didn’t have the first clue how to function as single ladies.
The first category was what I called The Dependent Clinger. Caleb’s mother fell into that group. It was where the woman gave every single ounce of power to the man in her life, so scared of losing him that she catered to the man’s every whim. The man could do no wrong; what he said was law.
The second category was The Entitled Clinger. This was where my mother fell. Instead of working to earn the lifestyle they felt they deserved, they glommed onto men with money. They used sex and all other forms of feminine wiles as a manipulation method, making those guys feel like the center of their universe so they’d feel inclined to give the woman whatever her heart desired.
I turned my attention to the windshield and said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
The sudden feel of his hand on mine caused me to jolt in my seat. “Don’t apologize,” he commanded in a strong, intimidating voice. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me? He’s the asshole for making you uncomfortable. It was his fault, not yours.”
My heart actually began to ache for him. “I wasn’t apologizing for that. I was apologizing because you’ve had to deal with this shit your whole life. It’s not fair to you. And for that I’m sorry.”
Without thinking, I turned my hand over beneath his so we were palm to palm, lacing our fingers together.
“This is me,” I said a few minutes later, pointing at the huge
, rambling Victorian I’d bought for a song about six months earlier.
Several seconds of silence encompassed us after Caleb put the car into Park. Then he declared vehemently, “No. No way. You can not live here.”
I twisted to the side to face him. “What? Why not?”
“It’s a fucking pit, Daphne!”
“It is not!” I objected, feeling defensive of my amazing home. Sure, from the outside things might not look all that great thanks to the boards covering some of the broken windows, the busted outside lights I hadn’t yet fixed, and the rotted shingles, but there was a reason I got it so cheap. And I’d slowly been working to get her back to her former glory. My house was going to be magnificent once I was finished with it. “It’s got character.”
“It looks like it’s got termites,” he grumbled. “One wrong step and it’s going to fall down on your head.”
With a roll of my eyes, I pushed the car door open and stepped out. “Come on,” I said, leaning back down to catch his eyes. “Come inside and I’ll show you why this house is so awesome.”
Considering our track record, I knew inviting him into my home, my own personal sanctuary, wasn’t smart. I just couldn’t help myself when it came to showing off my baby.
He looked no less skeptical as he climbed out of the car after me, but I knew I’d win him over the moment he walked inside. I unlocked the front door and pushed it open before flipping on my entryway lights. Stepping to the side, I waved him in with a flourish, crying, “Ta da!” as he walked past.
I could see the change of heart written all over his face the instant he walked through the threshold. “Wow,” he mumbled in wonder. “This place is amazing.”
“Told you. It’s not a pit,” I informed him happily.
The foyer was my absolute favorite part of the house. I’d started my renovation there, wanting to restore it so everyone who entered my home was hit with the magnificent wow factor. The ceiling was completely open to the second floor, with a gorgeous crystal chandelier hanging above that I’d painstakingly cleaned piece by piece. A beautiful staircase with wrought iron balusters between the oak handrail and outer string split the entire room in two, with the parlor to the left and the formal dining area to the right.
Enticing Daphne Page 7
