Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(29)

Drake stared at the chief. What the hell? He hadn’t f*cked up anywhere since he’d been here, had he? Hell, most of the time he was a freaking Boy Scout. “Yes, sir.”

With confusion and worry snarling around inside his chest, Drake walked into the darkening twilight headed for his truck.

Damn. It was hard enough to be the new guy in the station without having to worry about some mysterious warning from the chief on top of that. He could take the ribbing, the hazing, the teasing that all new guys to the station were subjected to. But how was he supposed to fight an unnamed suspicion from the chief?

Damn, damn, damn.

Inside the cab of his truck, Drake glanced at the time. It wasn’t that late. Even though he’d wanted to track down Everly, maybe giving his buddy Hunter a call would be better for now. Hunter could talk him off the ledge where the chief was concerned. After all, Drake had done the same for him numerous times in the past.

The phone rang three, four, five times before the voicemail kicked on. With an irritated grunt, Drake killed the call before leaving a message.

He was being a pansy-ass bitch about this. So what if the chief had something on his mind? Drake hadn’t done anything wrong, had even pulled an extra shift at the first opportunity. There wasn’t anything to worry about, so he was just going to get over it and proceed with his plans for the evening.

Cranking the engine, he tried another number, this one the most recent addition to his cell phone’s contact list.

“Hello?” The soft female voice was almost impossible to understand over the undercurrent of barking behind it.

“Everly, it’s Drake.”

The echoing barks faded after the sound of a metallic clang. She must be at the shelter. He could picture that big heavy door he’d seen on his one trip inside falling shut behind her. She was probably standing near the front desk now.

“Hi, Drake.” Nervous, still. He should have anticipated that. She’d probably been stewing all day over their encounter last night, and clearly the time thinking hadn’t done anything to calm her anxieties.

“I’m done with my shift. Have you eaten? I’d love to go out and grab something with you.”

“I haven’t eaten, no.” Her voice was thin as water, but there was a hint of wistfulness there too. “I’m not sure about it, though. I kind of have a headache.”

“We can go somewhere quiet. Or hell, I’ll pick up takeout if you’d rather.”

She hesitated. In the background, an office phone rang, and a cheerful female voice sounded far away as she answered the other call. “Hopeful Paws, Charlie here.”

“That’s really sweet of you Drake, but I’m already at home. I was going to turn in early.”

Lie.

Drake frowned, disappointment soaking deep into his bones. “That’s a shame.”

“Yeah, it is. Sorry. But definitely next time,” she said quickly as the office phone in the background rang again. “Talk to you soon, bye!”

She hadn’t quite hung up the cell phone’s call before saying, “Hopeful Paws, this is Ever—”

Drake’s cell phone went dark and he closed his eyes, thumping his head against the rest behind him. Damn. Dodged for no good reason, not one he could discern, anyway.

What did a guy have to do to spend some time with a friendly face in this town?



Chief Pearce glared down at his cell phone’s screen, and the expression did nothing to calm Belinda’s frayed nerves.

“What did he say?” she prodded her father, leaning forward on the beaten leather sofa of her parents’ living room. She hated the thing. Always had. It was cheap when they’d bought it, and time had done nothing to improve the look or the quality of the damn thing. Her father insisted it had “character,” and refused to get rid of it.

She wouldn’t ever spend money on a piece of furniture like that if she had the chance.

That morning, after kicking lanky and sweaty out of her hotel room—his swanky suit and white teeth had concealed his complete lack of game. After the most lackluster sex of her life, Belinda had woken early with a plan. She’d been early for her flight for once in her life, and had driven straight over to her parents’ place.

The one man she could always count on was Daddy.

“Hammerfell has so far proved an asset to the team, and he doesn’t appreciate his guys being slandered when they can’t stick up for themselves,” Chief Pearce read the reply text aloud. The deep lines in his face became more pronounced with his frown. He looked over at Belinda. “I told you that it wouldn’t work.”

“But it’s true,” Belinda said, shoving off that hateful couch and pacing on the beaten hardwood floor in front of the hearth. “He did skip out on some shifts.”

“When he first got started under me, yeah. Once. And wasn’t that your twenty-first birthday party? When he took you to the ER because you drank so much?”

She slashed the air with an angry wave. “That’s beside the point. Daddy, you’ve got to make this guy understand that Drake isn’t the kind of employee he needs.”

“I’ve done the best I can, but I can’t lie about him. Drake was damn good at what he did, and he was a good leader.” Chief Pearce shook his head, tossing his cell phone onto the accent table beside his favorite La-Z-Boy. “Now I wish I hadn’t promoted Watson over his head. If I’d had any idea he would run off because of it, I wouldn’t have.”