Page 48 of Auctioned to the Devil

“Anything else?”

She shakes her head. “Wine.”

“What?”

“I need wine.”

I start toward the register. “Probably smart.”

She follows. I can feel the entire store watching us. I’m used to that. What I’m not used to is the satisfaction still burning low in my gut.

He touched her.

I stopped him.

Simple.

Except nothing about the way I reacted was simple.

Emily isn’t mine.

This thing between us isn’t real.

And I’m starting to think my body doesn’t give a damn about either of those facts.

Chapter 7

Emily

“You almost broke his wrist.”

Caleb doesn't look up from the cutting board. We’ve been back at his cabin for twenty minutes and I can’t stop thinking about the altercation at the grocery store.

“I didn't.”

“You almost did.”

“But I didn't.”

“That isn't the defense you think it is.”

His knife comes down through an onion with a hard thud.

I'm sitting at his kitchen island with a glass of wine Sally insisted I needed after witnessing my fake boyfriend nearly dismember a tourist beside the canned vegetables.

She wasn't wrong.

Caleb, apparently, decided what I needed was dinner.

He's been chopping vegetables for ten minutes while pretending I'm not staring at him.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Why does everyone call you the Devil?”

Caleb lifts his eyes from the vegetables he’s chopping. “Thought Sally told you.”