“Make it ten.”
A hush falls over the crowd.I push to my feet and slowly turn around, taking in every wide eye in the vicinity before my attention lands on Morgan.With his feet sprawled beneath the table and his arms crossed, he slouches in the seat, meeting my stare with a look of absolute boredom.I see through it, though.The lackadaisical persona he’s sporting in an attempt to shame someone a Harden cares about.All right, cares might be a bit of a stretch.I like June, I really do, but that’s not the point.The point is he’s using her to make a statement.To make her feel small in hopes of makingmefeel small.Not fucking likely.I cock my head.“Just because you can’t afford luxury, let alone comprehend real taste, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to spew bullshit to the rest of us.Especially when you’re on our property,” I growl.
His mouth quirks.“Just because I don’t have to pay to get laid?—”
The chairs behind me clatter to the ground as Jagger and Hawke flank my sides, daring Ethan to keep running his mouth to one of our own.Roman appears from the side.He might refuse to sit with our father and deal with his asshole remarks, but he’s as present and aware of everything going down as always.If we were anywhere else, we’d already be brawling.But here?Here is risky.Doable, sure.But risky, nonetheless.Too many witnesses.Too many cameras.Too many innocent bystanders who don’t understand how much Morgan doesn’t belong here.In Harden Heights, let alone this building.
But if he pushes his luck?I’m all in.
“Make it twelve,” I boom before warning, “I can do this all night long, Morgan.”
His upper lip curls, but he doesn’t move.Doesn’t say anything.He just sits there, pushing his luck and pissing me off because if he urges me to spend more, it only proves to everyone in this room that I can fork out the cash, and Morgan can’t.
“F-Ford are you—” From the stage, Cobie clears her throat as if just realizing she’s still very much addressing an entire room instead of only her big brother.“Twelve thousand for a night with June Withers.Going once.”I hold Ethan’s stare for another second, daring him to open his mouth again.With a subtle nod, he gives in and lets me take the win.Satisfied, I turn to June.Her pretty gaze is pinned on me for the first time since she walked on stage, but for one of the few times since we met, I can’t place what she’s thinking.Is she pissed?Embarrassed?Her fingers are tangled together in front of her, and her straight white teeth nibble the edge of her pouty bottom lip.But her baby blues?They’re zeroed in on me andonlyme.
What are you thinking, June Bug?
“Twice,” Cobie continues.June’s attention darts to my little sister.Her lips part as if she’s about to say something, but my sister cuts her off.“Sold!To Ford Harden for…twelve thousand dollars.”Cobie hesitates.“Uh.Wow.”A light, tinkling laugh echoes from the microphone.“Sorry, yes.That’s, uh.Thank you so much, June.I’m sure you and Ford can figure out the details…later.”She clears her throat and looks down at her tablet.“Next up, we have…”
I don’t hear another word as June walks off stage.Her red heels match her lipstick and click with every step, while her shoulders round forward as if she’s trying to disappear entirely despite bringing in the biggest chunk of cash for Cobie’s event.She should be proud of herself.If there’s a winner for this thing, it’s her.Instead, she looks like she wants to puke.
Twelve.Fucking.Grand.I’ve always been an impulsive bastard, but this is a new one, even for me.Twelve grand.Oh, the things I could buy with twelve grand.Twelve thousand dollars.Five digits, and more than I ever planned to drop tonight.Hell, I hadn’t even planned to bid in general.Not on anyone.And especially not on June.She has a boyfriend, for shit’s sake.Even so, I can’t make myself regret it.The nervous, deer-in-the-headlights with a smidge of how-in-the-world-did-I-get-here and I-wish-I-could-disappear look on her face was more than enough to make the cash worth it.She’ll be tied with the highest bid of the night, and if that doesn’t boost a woman’s confidence, I don’t know what will.Hell, maybe it’ll even be enough to erase Morgan’s asshole comments.And if it isn’t, I’ll find out what is.
“Well, shit.”Hawke chuckles behind me.
Rolling my shoulders, I sit back at the table, and my brothers join me before Hawke hands Jagger a few Benjamins.
“What?”Hawke asks when he catches my stare.“You think you’re the only one who takes bets?”
I bite back my scoff.Cocky motherfucker.Of course, he had a bet going with Jagger.Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised.We’ve been betting on each other’s personal lives for years.Little things like whether or not Hawke will disappear before the night is over, or if Jagger will spend the night at Violet’s, or if Roman will leave his car unlocked even when it’s parked in our garage.
I should’ve known they’d have a bet going tonight.Question is…is it about the price June went for, or who made the bid?Is my interest in her so obvious?Fuck, I hope not.
“Put the money away,” our father growls as Cobie continues to emcee from the stage.
With a low rumble of amusement, Jagger slips the bills into his suit pocket.“What?Now we can’t even make a familial bet every once in a while?Come on, Titas.Let us live a little.”
My father ignores him, choosing to pin me with a glare instead.“Can’t even keep your impulses in check for one night, huh, Ford?”
Impulses?He wants to talk about impulses?My molars grind before I smooth out my features and reach for my almost-empty glass of bourbon.Bringing it to my mouth, I hesitate.“There a problem?”
“Twelve grand?”he demands.
I toss back the rest of my drink.The burn along my esophagus is a welcome distraction.I focus on it.The tingle.The warmth.The heat.I let the feeling wash over me, holding onto it when all I want to do is reach across the table and throttle the guy glaring a hole in the side of my face.Because I can’t.And that?Is a hard pill to swallow.
“Nothing to say, boy?”he sneers.
He wants to talk dollars?Really?Then again, I got my obsession with money from the asshole, so I guess it makes sense.Maybe if he hadn’t frozen each of our trust funds earlier this year, he’d have a leg to stand on, but the money I spend is mine.He has no say in what I do with it.He has no say in what I do with anything.Not anymore.
My glass clinks as I set it down.“You have something against charity?”I taunt.“Ourmother’scharity?”
“That is twelve thousand dollars,” he repeats through gritted teeth.“Twenty-two between both of you.”His glare cuts to Jagger, emphasizing his point.
“And why is that a problem?”Hawke goads.
Titas doesn’t answer him, which, considering how much he enjoys hearing himself speak, catches me off guard.
Why is it a problem?I take a second to piece together the information I’ve been given.Jagger bid ten grand, I bid another twelve, and the night’s only begun.You’d think he’d be ecstatic.So, why the long face?
