The Marriage Auction: Book One(39)

His lips twitched, and he took my hand once again, holding tightly so I couldn’t easily pull away. “Like usual, another McAllister spouting a bunch of horseshit. We’ll just see what the future holds, wife.” He used that single word in a cutting blow. It hit its mark.

Since he wouldn’t let me go, I squeezed his hand so hard my own throbbed with pain. He didn’t so much as flinch, nor let go. The rat bastard.

As we exited into the lobby, I saw my sister standing next to a Viking of a man. She still wore the stunning dress from the auction and looked to be chatting with the man I assumed was her future husband.

Seeing her with a man who wasn’t Jarod sent a spear of regret and loathing straight into my chest. She shouldn’t have been here. She should have been in school. She should have been planning a wedding to her high school sweetheart. Her one true love.

“Savannah!” I called out.

Both she and a hunky dark blond man with the most beautiful eyes stared back.

Finally, Sutton loosened his grip and let me go so I could run up to my sister and pull her into my arms.

“Savvy,” I breathed, feeling like my heart was in my throat.

“Hey, Kota. I’m glad you’re here. I have someone I want you to meet.” My sister pulled back, and, surprisingly, she had a pretty smile on her face. There was sadness behind her eyes, but she wasn’t upset. She wasn’t wallowing in self-pity like I seemed to be on her behalf.

I held her around the waist and turned to the man waiting patiently as I felt, not saw, Sutton come up behind us. His presence an energy that consumed the air around our little huddle.

The stranger held out a hand. “Hello, I’m Erik Johansen, Savannah’s…uh…” His gaze went to hers. “Her fiancé,” he finished.

“Dakota McAllister, her older sister.” I shook his hand and appreciated the man’s kind eyes and smile. He may have looked like a Viking who roamed villages and burned down buildings, but there was an air of calmness about him that rivaled that of a Buddhist monk.

“Soon to be Goodall.” The man behind me wedged his bulk next to me, slipped an arm around my shoulders, and nudged me to his side.

I clamped my mouth shut so hard my teeth ached with the effort.

“Goodall,” Savannah wheezed, her eyes going wide and her face turning stark white. I watched in horror as the realization set in.

“Savvy…” I said my sister’s name, knowing this blow would hit hard.

Tears filled her eyes which had Erik curving his arm around her and tucking her to his side instantly.

“Goodall,” she repeated with more ire in her tone.

“Sutton Goodall. Hello, neighbor.” He smiled and took my hand.

I watched in horror as Savannah turned beet-red, her skin matching her hair.

I held up my free hand. “I’ll explain everything later. There’s nothing you can do at this point to change it. What’s done is done.”

“Actually, what’s done is not done. But it will be after I get you to our appointment at the Little White Wedding Chapel. Tick tock, darlin’,” Sutton stated.

I clenched my teeth. “Can you just wait a freakin’ minute while I talk to my sister!” I sneered as I spun around to face him.

He held up his hands and smiled widely. Jesus, he was handsome when he smiled.

“I’ve got a better idea.” He gestured to Savannah and Erik. “How’s about your sister and her fiancé come to the wedding? We’ll make it a family affair.”

Savannah reached out and put her hand to my forearm, either to prevent me from punching him, which I desperately wanted to do again, or to connect with me.

“Dakota, I would love that,” she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her being the smart one, she’d likely realized that this would be her only chance to see me get married. Not that it was a happy event. “Erik?” She questioned the quiet man at her side.

“Anything that will make you happy, Savannah,” he said, his gaze soft and gentle.

At least Savannah seemed to have gotten a gentleman. “Fine,” I snarled between my teeth. “We’ll all go.”

“Excellent!” Sutton clapped as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Shall we, friends?” He held his arm out toward the front of the building where a long white stretch limo sat idling. “Your chariot awaits, darlin’.”

“I still hate you,” I snapped, then pushed past him, hiked my dress up at the hips, clomped my booted feet straight through the exit, opened the door of the limo myself, and slid in.



“What is going on?” Savannah whispered from where we sat at the back of the limo heading to my own personal funeral. At least that’s what it felt like. My nightmare come to life. I should have been wearing black instead of this pretty purple getup that apparently I’d also be getting married in.

“Getting married. What does it look like?” I answered drolly.

“To a Goodall?” she choked, her eyes drifting to my intended who was chatting up her Viking.

“It wouldn’t have been my first choice,” I stated flatly. “You know the rules. We do not get to choose our husbands. That happens in reverse. Which is why we get paid millions for the deal.”

“You don’t have to do this. How can you even consider doing this?” She gulped, those pretty blue eyes filling with unshed tears once more.