And watching the bids flashing up on the screen is seriously like watching a horror movie. I stand there with my hand over my mouth, a freaking bidding war ensues. I’m sure some Omegas would be proud as punch at the furious bidding, but I am not one of those.
I spin away from the shit show happening on the screen, my eyes locking back on the bar. Of course, the only space between me and either of those things is Pack Lowly, but desperation wins out, and I slide into a spot at the bar again.
“A weekend with Heidi Holmes,” Graham whistles, “makes spending that much money worthwhile though. It looks like we’re finally in for some good times. Hey, Heidi.” He basically purrs in my face when he finishes speaking.
And I have to fight not to look like I swallowed a cactus. But holy crap, he’s on a roll down a slippery slope. Graham has not always been like this, or maybe my view on what I wanted in an Alpha changed along the way. But one thing I know for sure, he does not float my boat at all. Apparently, not only do I not find him attractive, but I also find him offensive. Either way he doesn’t notice or he ignores my discomfort.
“You’ll have to let us know what special treats you want us to have ready for you. We’ll look after you, make sure we don’t get anything bad for you. Unless you’re after bad.” I’m sure Graham’s aiming for sexy and suave, but his insinuation comes across like nails on a chalkboard.
“The auction is not done yet, Graham,” I mumble, desperately praying for a miracle to happen like the function centre catches fire and the auction gets called off.
And a small miracle happens. My mysterious barman, come compatible maple-scented Alpha, reappears like a mirage in front of me. He’s got the same cheeky look in his eye, but he’s quieter this time. Not that it changes the impact of being in his space again.
“Another one?” he asks, and it comes with lots of tease and the perfect amount of insinuation… and every part of me responds.
“Another one,” I agree, but I have to twist awkwardly when Graham reaches out and starts to curl a piece of my hair around his finger.
I slap his hand away. “Please, don’t touch me.”
My attention jumps to the barman. Instead of dealing with Graham, he deals with me. He winks at me, before blowing in my direction. Like purposely blowing his scent into my face, and as it fills my lungs, it soothes.
He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t need to, but he gets busy. He uses the counter as his work area, lining up bottles to form a barrier between Graham and me. But Graham misses it, his attention is back on the auction he’s sure he’s already won.
“The auction is a done deal, Heidi. We won the auction fair and square, we blew the competition out the water actually. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me asking what would make you feel comfortable in our pack home so that when you come to stay, we get to enjoy our chance to spoil you and prove how right we are.” Graham’s rambling, his eyes locked in front of him, while mine are locked on the barman who is pulling faces and rolling his eyes at all the cheesiness that Graham keeps spewing.
He finally stops staring at the screen and returns his eyes to me. Graham actually has the balls to wink. “It will be the perfect opportunity we need, considering the other thing we’ve got going on. It’s inevitable we end up together.”
“There is no other thing going on, Graham,” I hiss back at him. Being mindful of where we are, I swallow my anger and become the daughter my parents raised. “I actually think you are acting inappropriately. I understand we’re not in the office but at the same time your lack of awareness at my discomfort is offensive.”
Graham chuckles but it’s not an attractive sound. “You’re right, we’re not in the office and I’m not on the clock.” He takes an over obvious step back dropping a condescending smirk my way. “With thirty seconds left though, I think you need to accept the auction is a done deal. All I was doing was trying to be nice to you. I don’t need to be, you know that, right?”
Clearly, his definition of nice is universes apart from mine. And despite trying to maintain my calm facade, even I can hear the sarcasm when I look at him. “I appreciate that effort. Regardless, the auction is still on, so you’re a little ahead of yourself, buddy.”
“But I know how much we’re prepared to pay. I doubt there’s another pack alive that understands the complexity of your situation or could handle the”—he juggles his hands as he searches for the right words—“marks from your past is probably the kindest way of putting it.”
How fucking dare he. I’m stunned I don’t grab one of the bottles next to Graham and crack it over his asshole head. ‘Marks from my past’, that shit is highly confidential. I honestly don’t know how to respond.
My maple-scenting barman steals the moment. He winks at me quickly as he hands over my drink, and it’s in complete contrast to the vicious look he casts at Graham. But when he looks at me again, his eyes are glittering like emeralds, and the smile on his lips turns into a full-blown smile as his eyes move over my shoulder.
And then like Graham just did, the barman whistles before talking overly loudly. “Pack Otto are keen for a chance too, the bid just jumped by twenty grand.”
Graham stills, like he gets a jolt up his ass that freezes him before he turns in a huff, his attention going back to his pack, leaving me and the sexy barman.
Without Graham paying us any attention, he’s quieter, more intimate now it’s just the two of us. “Surely a pretty girl like you would be used to the attention?”
“Not the kind of attention I’m after.” I shrug, taking a sip of his delicious cocktail.
There’s this thing about being close to this Alpha, that makes me forget everything. And it’s really, really nice.
“What are you after?” He leans closer, so all I can see and all I can smell is him. He does that thing Alphas do, making his scent thicker, so he is the only thing that I can breathe.
“And that is pretty much the question of life, isn’t it? Find an answer to that and we’d all be rich, and happy,” I laugh, and it’s not forced at all. He makes me feel happy. I take another sip, before I have to return to Sim and Tristan. “Thanks for saving me before, but now I have to go and figure out how to act like this is not the shit show that is my life.”
Instead of laughing with me, he gets a little serious. “What if that’s the last thirty seconds of misery left in your life? You’d cope, I’d put money on it.”
I laugh him off. “You’re right, I will survive. Hey, thanks for my drink and the pep talk.”
“You’re worth it,” he insists, getting a little cheesy.
