Page 43 of A Christmas Auction

All I Want for Christmas is You

BRUNO

Two weeks later…

It was Christmas Eve. The night of the auction. I had no doubt Holly would be chosen. I wasn’t proud of it, but I’d had Jonas do his thing and hack Alana’s systems. Holly had gone out on eight dates in the past two weeks. I had eyes on the most notable ones. There was an oil tycoon that wore a cowboy hat in every picture of him on the internet. That told me the man was bald under that hat, but he didn’t have any red flags. Then, of course, there was a restauranteur, a hotelier, a real estate magnate, and a whole laundry list of other “respectable” men, all vying for Holly’s attention. All healthy options on paper for my girl.

My girl, I huffed.

What the fuck did that even mean anymore? Holly wasn’tmyanything.

No, that wasn’t true.

Holly was myeverything. She was the one that got away. The loss of my life. The one woman on the entire planet that seemed to love me, assholery be damned. She didn’t care that I was crass or bossy or that I liked control in the bedroom. Holly dove right into the deep end with me, treaded water and howled at the moon gleefully. I’d never had that before and I wouldn’t ever have it again.

She put all of her cards on the table, and I let her go.

She loves me and I let her go.

Correction. Shelovedme.

And I’d spent the last two weeks stewing in everything we’d shared, and all that she said. Not knowing the first thing on how to deal with the complicated feelings I had over losing her. This was not a typical scenario for me. I didn’t know the best way to get past what kept coming to the surface every time I allowed a memory of our time together to invade my mind.

Whiskey and Coke.

Shower sex.

Chocolate-coated kisses.

Sleepy morning sex.

Sparkly green dresses.

Airplane bathrooms.

Bacon cheeseburgers

Home Alone.

And the worst, the absolute fucking worst memory that played on repeat like a broken record was the way she looked at me after she was attacked. Like hersavior. As though I personally had hung the moon so it could shine just for her.

She said she loved me.

Holly Knight looked into my eyes and told me that she had fallen in love with me. And what did I do?

Nothing.

No, I did do something.

I walked away.

I clenched my teeth until they ached, lifted the whiskey to my mouth and let the anger burn through my system along with two fingers worth of an eighteen-year-old bottle of Macallan.

Did I love her?

“Fuck yes! I’m in love with her.” I slammed the glass down so hard on the glossy bar top I heard the tumbler crack.

But what was I to do about it? She was getting ready right now, in this very hotel, to walk across that stage and offer herself up to the highest bidder. All because I wasn’t able to get my head out of my ass and tell her how I felt.

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