Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(20)
“Wait, what?” She sat up ramrod-straight, nearly choking herself on the seatbelt. “What do you mean, date tonight? We’re not going on a date tonight.”
“Charlie told you she was handling the rest of the tasks tonight, and we’ve already left the festival,” he pointed out. “Makes sense to make our date right now, doesn’t it?”
She bit her lip, and it was easy to see the wheels turning in that beautiful head of hers.
Go ahead. Try to weasel your way out of this, sweetheart. I’m not going to let you.
“I should really get back to the booth and—”
“Charlie’s handling it.”
“But I should go to the shelter and—”
“Charlie. Handling.”
“You’re not going to let me off the hook, are you?”
He shot her a glance. “Why would I? All I want to do is make sure you get your money’s worth.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed. Damn, she was fun. It wasn’t nice of him to constantly compare her and Belinda, but the differences were stark. Everly clearly enjoyed life, living it honestly and passionately. Her reactions were unscripted and genuine, and the way she tried to resist him—and failed—made him want her all the more.
His original plans for tonight were no good. Once the gavel fell with Everly as the winning bidder, he’d been seized by the desire to make this night with her as special as he could. It wasn’t just some society woman with a dose of boredom and a surplus of cash he was entertaining tonight. It was Everly. And he wanted to make sure she got a taste of what Drake was all about. After all, it might be his only chance.
His tires bumped over the concrete entryway to the apartment complex’s blacktop lot. As he pulled under the shade of the old oak that constantly littered leaves onto his pickup, Everly shifted in the truck’s seat beside him.
“So, this is your place?”
“Yep,” Drake said as he opened the door and released the latch on his seat belt. “It sure is. Chief helped me find it. It’s small, but it’s close to the station and I’ve got a little patio and a patch of grass out back. Nice enough, for a bachelor.”
“It’s cute,” she said as she shut the truck’s door behind her and fell into step beside him. Their footsteps made soft thumps against the concrete walkway as they walked up to his door. “You haven’t been here long, right?”
“About ten days, now,” he nodded as he opened the door, holding it for her as she stepped into his living room. Cool air swirled around him as he shut the front door behind them. “It’s nice. I’m liking it so far.”
“That’s good,” she said lamely, standing awkwardly in the center of the room as if unsure of where to go. Drake smiled. Damn, she was as jittery as that cat had been when it ran up the tree. He guessed he should be grateful that she hadn’t set her sights on the oak outside, otherwise he might be calling the station for help retrieving her again.
“Why don’t you sit down and relax for a few,” he said, leading her to the overstuffed recliner which sat directly across from his flat screen. “There are the remotes. Make yourself at home. I’m just going to grab a quick shower to get rid of this coconut oil and then we’ll head out for our date.”
Everly sank onto the chair, looking down at her outfit as she did. “I’m not exactly dressed for a night out.”
Drake pressed his palm to her cheek, turning her upward to face him. “You look beautiful to me. Don’t worry, you’re dressed just fine for the night I have in mind.”
As he moved down the hall, he though he might have imagined the shaky sigh that followed him. Probably not. Despite her nerves, she was as excited about this as he was.
7.
A faint hissing sound floated down the hallway, indicating that Drake was in the shower. Naked. Water pouring down those beautiful, sculpted abs. His hair sticking to the back of his neck as water sluiced down to his tapered waist, over his round, muscular ass…
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Everly said the words aloud as she launched herself out of his overstuffed recliner and paced through his living room. Distraction. She had to start thinking about something else, anything else. She wasn’t normally such a horn dog, but damn if the idea of Drake Hammerfell naked and dripping didn’t make her want to charge down the hall, flinging clothes in every direction.
She stopped by the small table at the end of his couch, where a buzzing sound was coming from his phone. A thin, blonde woman was smiling up at her from the phone’s screen. Perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect makeup. Belinda, according to the flashing contact info at the top of the phone screen.
Her stomach flipped over. It was that woman from the auction, the one who’d tried to outbid her.
“Calm down,” she told herself as she turned his phone facedown so she wouldn’t have to see Belinda’s stupid perfection anymore. There was probably a perfectly simple explanation. Like, maybe that was his sister, or his cousin, or maybe she was married to his dad or something.
But the anger in her eyes when Everly had upped her bid suggested that it wasn’t anything near as simple as that.
Silence floated down the hall, and Everly collapsed on the couch. She couldn’t stop the sinking feeling that Belinda was someone much more suited to Drake than she was. Belinda probably wasn’t socially awkward and emotionally stunted. Presented with a date with someone like Drake, Belinda probably would have insisted on a five-star restaurant and worn matching lingerie underneath her stunning little black dress.