Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(15)

“Just a short sweet welcome, I’ll do everything else. Now come on, the Lady’s Auxiliary president is here, and you want her to know your name. She controls about half the pocketbooks on this side of Fort Worth, and she’s related to the Bass brothers.”

With Allison’s hissed encouragement in her ear, Everly swallowed her fear and took the microphone the festival sound guy handed her.

Shit. She was really about to do this. She was going to sell about twenty men tonight, including the one she was getting a crush on, to the highest bidder.

Fucking perfect.

“Thank you for coming tonight.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. Damn. Her pulse must be running in the high three hundreds. Her heart felt like it was vibrating instead of beating. She had to keep going. Look above their heads, girl, get it done.

“I’m Everly Pitts, the director and founder of Hopeful Paws Pet Rescue. Tonight, all of your donations will go toward running the shelter and helping to rescue homeless dogs and cats in our area. If you have any questions about the shelter, or any of the dogs you’ll see tonight, please see me or one of our shelter volunteers.”

Everly swallowed, but her mouth was bone dry. In the corner of her eye, she could see Drake at the back door, his shirtless chest gleaming in the afternoon light. Gossamer was still at his side, her wings bobbing in time to her pants.

“There are a lot of great guys up for bids tonight, so I’ll turn it over to Allison Kurtz, our beautiful emcee. Thanks again for coming.”

The cheers and applause helped Everly smile as she handed the mic to Allison and hauled ass for the edge of the stage. Drake had taken his place in line, and as Everly started to pass, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Great job,” he smiled at her, the expression doing funny things to her insides. “You did awesome.”

Damn him. How did he know she had such bad stage fright? How did he know just what to say to make her feel better?

“Thank you,” she said, fighting the urge—and failing—to look down at her scuffed white sneakers. His hand was still on her arm, thumb making tiny concentric circles on the tender skin of the underside.

“We’ll do our best to make you a million bucks tonight.”

The thought of one of those society matrons waving her checkbook at Drake made her stomach churn with anxiety. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the frissons of heat licking up her arm from that sweet prolonged contact coalescing in her brain and forming a decision.

No. She didn’t want anyone else to look at his buff, defined muscles. Didn’t want anyone else to plunk a pile of cash down for her rescue in exchange for a night with him. Didn’t want to think about what he and some rich, single woman might be doing after their date.

Did she say any of that? Nope.

“Thank you.”

As Everly walked away, she couldn’t help feeling like something putrid that Gossamer would cheerfully roll in.

Shit.



“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hunter spat as Drake folded his arms across his bare, slicked-up chest. Hunter had applied the same coconut oil treatment to his upper body, his tattoos gleaming in the dim, shadowy light offstage.

“I wish I was. But she’s here. She cornered me about halfway through my volunteer time at the booth.” Drake couldn’t help himself. He scanned the crowd as the second bachelor’s bids got higher and higher. Nate, a quiet country boy at Firehouse Three, looked like he’d rather be pretty much anywhere than right there onstage. He’d even insisted on wearing his favorite cowboy hat for the auction, but clearly it didn’t bother the ladies at all.

No matter how many faces Drake scrutinized though, he couldn’t find the one he was watching out for.

Dammit.

“You think the bitch is here to make trouble?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t put it past her.” Drake sighed as they scooted over, making room for Nate. His cheeks were red as the engine parked outside. “But she can’t ruin this. Not for Everly. She’s worked too hard.”

Hunter’s eyebrows climbed a little at that, but he let it go. “Well, we’ll just have to keep an eye out, won’t we?”

“Thanks, man.” Drake reached out a hand and grabbed the one Hunter was offering. They brought it in and Drake gave his best friend a pound on the back. “I owe you.”

“A dozen cupcakes oughtta settle the score,” Hunter said as he sauntered onstage to the obvious delight of the crowd.

At the edge of the stage, watching his best friend’s bids soar higher and higher, Drake took a deep breath.

He didn’t mind being up in front of people. Hell, he was kind of a ham. But for some reason, Everly’s expression when she’d walked away from him was still bothering him a half-hour later. She’d looked almost—heartbroken. She hadn’t pulled away from their physical contact until the last minute though, so he wasn’t sure what was eating her.

And then there was his personal life that had the potential to go tits-up at the worst possible moment. Belinda had a flair for histrionics, and he could just imagine the trouble she’d cause here.

If his ex caused Everly one second’s irritation or issue? Drake shook his head, irritation and anxiety filling him. The only thing he could do now was to try his best in the auction and pray if Belinda got up to anything, he and Hunter could stop her before it went too far.