Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(12)

“Smell?” Drake leaned forward and took a whiff. “Whoo, boy.”

“She just had a bath, so it’s not too bad right now. Some dogs are just stinky, and she’s one of them.” Everly snapped a neon-pink lead to the thick, red collar around the dog’s neck, then placed the bright blue Hopeful Paws donation vest around her bulky middle. “She’s great on the leash, so you won’t have any problems with her.”

“Let me get this straight. I’m supposed to walk this abomination around and get donations for the shelter?”

“Yup. Unless, of course, there’s some kind of problem with that?” She held the leash out to Drake, one hip jutting out slightly, her chin tilted in challenge.

Damn, she was cute.

“Nope, no problem at all.” With his foreboding clamped around his neck like a vice, Drake took the leash and beckoned to the snorting, waddling morass of fur. “Come on, Gossamer. Let’s rake in the donations.”

With the ugly dog at his side, Drake squared his shoulders and marched out of the booth, Everly’s bemused expression warming his back.

Once out of sight of the booth, Drake knelt down by Gossamer’s side and petted the critter. “You are a fugly little shit, aren’t you?”

Gossamer responded with a lap to his knuckles and a snort that could only be described as gleeful. Her too-long, curly tail wagged exuberantly as he scratched behind her flop ears.

Drake smiled. Everly had obviously thought she was getting one over on him by giving him this ugly little mutt, but she didn’t know he had a soft spot for underdogs.

His mom had given him a call that morning. Hammerfell Investments was celebrating a record first quarter profit. She’d kept it light, but the please come home and join us, son, was implied.

It wasn’t what he wanted. That was part of the reason he and Hunter were such good friends. They liked the same things, craved the same kind of life of adventure. If he lived in his parents’ world, he’d be expected to wear a suit every day, hobnob and wheel and deal with all the big shots in Tucson.

Underdogs didn’t belong in that kind of arena, not in the slightest. But being here, doing what he was doing, even escorting an ugly dog while he did so? Made him so much happier than schmoozing for his family’s business ever had. He felt like he was making a difference, and that, more than anything, made him feel alive.

Gossamer might not have had the easiest time getting adopted because of her looks, but Drake wasn’t embarrassed to be walking her around. In fact, he had an idea.

A booth down the aisle from Hopeful Paws was selling kid’s costume pieces, and Drake made a stop there first. With a few choice additions to Gossamer’s wardrobe, the pair began a slow, talkative circuit around the festival. Drake would be damned if Everly got the upper hand on him. For some reason, the competition with her really tickled his fancy.



The place was loud, crowded, and so not her scene. The Deep Ellum Arts festival looked more like an excuse to get drunk and listen to loud rock music than anything else.

Belinda shoved her way through the crowd, looking for him. She’d been in Dallas for two days now, and had planned this very carefully. It wasn’t that hard to find him. After all, he’d been a good son and told his mother exactly where he was living and working.

She’d gone to his apartment one night, but he hadn’t been in. More than likely, he was hanging out with Hunter.

Her fingers curled into a tight fist, her gel-covered nails digging into her palm. That bastard. She was more convinced than ever that Hunter had something to do with the fact that their relationship had ended when it had.

Hunter had never liked her, and he’d made no secret of it. The hatred was mutual. When Hunter had suddenly up and moved to Dallas? She’d tap-danced around the living room she and Drake shared.

But now, Hunter was near Drake, and Belinda was not. And even though she wanted nothing more than to shove her Ferragamo straight up Hunter’s low-class, tattooed backside, revenge could wait.

Catching Drake could not. And this, in public, was the absolute best chance she had. Besides, if this initial meeting didn’t work out, she had a really good backup plan.

He couldn’t run if she bought his sexy ass.

“There,” she hissed as she rounded a large booth selling tie-dye everything. There he was.

Wearing his fireman pants and a tight-fitting grey tee with his station logo on the breast pocket, he was smiling at a kid who was stuffing a dollar into a vest on—well, what the hell was that?

Some—creature—on four legs stood next to Drake’s leg, looking up at him adoringly. It looked like the bastard love child of ET and Mr. Potato Head. Only thing was, it was wearing butterfly wings and bobbing antennae.

Drake waved goodbye to the family, and Belinda straightened. It was her chance. She weaved through the knot of people standing in line at a hot dog booth, and then she was by his side.

“Hi,” she breathed, laying a hand on his arm.

“Belinda?” His eyes went wide with surprise. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” she said, going onto her tiptoes for a kiss. But he turned his mouth away, and the pang of rejection had her gritting her teeth and lowering her brows.

Deep breath. Don’t get mad, it’ll only make things worse.

“You look good,” she said, letting her hand play along the muscles of his forearm. Damn, he’d been working out more lately. She couldn’t complain about the results.