and falling from the guys in the audience.
Then, something shifts. Mouths fall. I suspect if there is a sound out there it’s of gasps because something has happened. Something interesting based on people’s heads moving to stare at their guest. Some cover their mouths like they’re telling a secret.
Something unexpected has transpired, but I have no idea what.
As hard as I’ve tried to avoid eye contact with either of Oliver or Holden, when Oliver raises his paddle, I survey the remaining attendees. That’s when I see a stranger lifting his arm. He’s not bad looking, but he’s definitely not someone I’d want to go on a date with. I’m not shallow enough to judge someone by their looks. Maybe I am. But the reality is I don’t know this person, and I have no interest in getting to know another guy.
Holden’s not moving. I don’t know what to make of that. Was he just ruffling my feathers? Did he never want a date with me? Was he just trying to confuse me? He’s always been good at that. If he was, he damn sure succeeded. He’s slouching back in his chair, his arms crossed. He rolls his eyes as he shakes his head. I can see his shoulders rise and fall in a dramatic fashion, like he’s sucking in a deep breath. He’s not even making an effort to bid on the same package as Oliver?
Even though I can’t hear it, the crowd clapping makes me think the bidding’s over. I didn’t notice whose paddle went up last because I was analyzing Holden. But Oliver grins, so that has to be good, right?
The first cue the next one has commenced is Holden whipping his paddle high in the air. He glances back at Oliver. Then, when he faces the stage, his blue eyes are electric and dead set on mine. He scorches me. Zaps travel throughout my entire body. Damn him. My eyes wander away from his hypnotic stare to his sly smile, the same one I’ve seen several times tonight.
My heart hurdles into my stomach.
Something’s very wrong, but I don’t know what. The knowledge that they didn’t bid on the same package should be a comfort. But Holden looks so confident. And I don’t even know if Oliver won a damn package at all.
But Holden just did because he’s the last to have his arm raised before the next round of the unheard applause. He’s showing all his teeth. His eyes close for a moment before he opens them wide, his chin quite high. Beads of sweat drip down my forehead. I try to pat them dry without ruining what little bit of makeup I have left from my romp with Holden earlier.
“Anyone else think it’s a bit toasty in here?”
Amie’s brows furrow. “No, not at all. Cammie, you okay?”
Shaking my head, I swallow. “I think I’m feeling claustrophobic in here.” Although, there’s not enough space in this damn tent to ease this feeling. Maybe not even in Magnolia Grove.
Charity’s brown eyes widen as she steps back, as if there’s extra space to give me. Maybe she’s worried I’m going to puke on her.
Amie grabs my shoulders and turns me so that I’m no longer facing the crowd. “Just look at me.” Even though her eyes are hazel and not green, I pretend they’re my mother’s. “Let’s breathe together. Big inhales, slow exhales.” Doing just as she says, we both drag in a breath, then slowly blow it out. “Good. You’ve got this.”
I nod, filling my lungs again and releasing it.
“Can’t be much longer before we’re out of here.”
I’m unsure of how much time passes when the door opens. My body shivers as I gasp for the fresh, cool air. Have I seriously waited my entire life for that experience?
Harry greets us as we step through the threshold. “Ladies, we’re so proud to announce that we’ve raised fifteen thousand dollars from the purchase of your dates.”
While the amount of money earned makes me nearly squeal, I can’t ignore the lightness overcoming me, the way the room is slightly spinning. Biting my lip, I try to keep the impending nausea at bay.
Harry’s voice is
Stephen G. Michaud, Roy Hazelwood