Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(17)

“Gladly,” he said, dropping her arm like it was burning his skin. He shook his hand out, then wiped it on his pants. “What the f*ck do you think you’re doing here?”

“It’s none of your damn business,” she said, turning to run back into the room. If she hurried, she could throw in another bid.

“Going twice, sold!”

The words stopped her short just inside the doors, and Belinda’s mouth fell open.

She’d lost.

She lost? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Do us all a favor,” whispered a smug masculine voice right behind her ear, “and go the f*ck home with your tail between your legs. He’s not yours anymore, Bitcherella.”

Her teeth ground together so hard she could hear them over the noise of the crowd.



The emcee’s gavel fell and Drake found himself purchased by none other than the woman he’d kissed a mere couple hours earlier.

If he’d scripted the ending, it couldn’t be any more satisfying. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Belinda to make her stop bidding, but he was fairly sure he could thank his smartass, tattooed guardian angel for that. As to why Everly was donating at her own charity auction? He could figure that out later. For now?

Gauging what direction her voice had come from, he turned and gave the deepest, most courtly bow he could manage. The resultant “ooohs” from the crowd were nice, but when he straightened and winked, cheers erupted.

“It looks like our shelter director will have her hands full with this one,” the emcee called as he left the stage, passing by Kyle who was up last. Kyle gave him a fist bump.

“Hope I go for at least half as much as you, rookie, or I’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

“You’ll be lucky to go for a Benji, you hairy bastard,” Drake grinned. “Go get ‘em.”

As Kyle and his four-legged companion made their way down the catwalk, Drake looked down at Gossamer. “Let’s go find our date, shall we?”

The ugly little dog shook vigorously, sending her glittery wings askew.

He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t worried about Belinda’s possible retaliation. Another reason to go find Everly. As if he needed one. His body had no problems remembering how good Everly had felt in his arms earlier, and he wanted to repeat the connection.

As they weaved their way through the crowd, Drake’s anticipation grew. Everly. She’d been so nervous, and then so cute when she thought she was pulling one over on him with Gossamer, and then so passionate when he’d kissed her. She felt things deeply.

He liked that. A lot.

Belinda had never been what one could consider “deep.” She was much more concerned about people’s opinions of her than anything like emotions or real personal connections. Her opinions changed like the wind, depending solely on who was surrounding her and what the mood of the crowd was. She had a deep-seated need to be in the center of the attention, with the adoration settled squarely on her. Anything different than that could send her into a towering rage, or worse, buckets of tears.

She’d been different when they were younger. Sweeter, less calculating. And, he could admit, he’d let his dick do the thinking for many years of their relationship. She was beautiful, and it was nice to think that someone who looked like her was his. But her beauty was skin-deep, and her ugly went down to the bone.

He was just glad he’d ducked out before he put a ring on it.

Eventually, he’d figured out that her mercurial moods had much more to do with manipulation than true hurt feelings. But she’d had his number, all right. One thing he couldn’t stand? A woman crying. And she’d used that to her advantage more than once. It had taken him a while to realize just how wrong they were for one another. His pigheadedness had almost lost him his best friend in the process. Hunter hadn’t been able to take how wrapped up Drake was with Belinda, and rather than watch his buddy self-destruct, he’d skipped town.

But Everly was completely different. She and Belinda were like night and day, and he was loving the sunshine. He couldn’t help but think he was making a much better decision than he ever had with Belinda. Everly was genuine, and he wanted to know a lot more about her.

Several women in the crowd stopped him, congratulating him on his winning bid, admiring his muscles, commenting on Gossamer’s costume and, erm, unusual looks. He did his best to be polite and charming—he was there as a representative of the department, after all—but inwardly he chafed at the delay. He really just wanted to find her and make sure that she was smiling again.

But with the bidding for Kyle over, the emcee was wrapping things up, and people were starting to leave. Drake frowned as he stood beside the nearly-empty cupcake display. Where was Everly? This was her event, she’d bid on him, and now where was she hiding?

“Hey, you’re Drake, right?”

At the sound of his name, he turned. The girl at the payment table with the thick blonde braids and a Hopeful Paws shirt was smiling at him. He’d seen her somewhere before, but he couldn’t place it.

“Yeah, I am. Sorry, we’ve met, right?”

She nodded, flashing a dimple as she smiled. “Yeah. I’m Charlie. Saw you at the shelter the other day. I walked in while you and Everly were swapping spit.”

He laughed at that. “Funny way of putting it, but yeah. That was me.”