Chapter
One
DONOVAN
“I’ll be lucky to get a twenty dollar bid,” Waldon grumbles, gum snapping as usual, though not nearly as smug.
Aiden scowls, shaking his head. “If anybody stays around to bid on us at all. Whose idea was it to put Hollywood out front?”
Sheriff McLeod doesn’t mince words. “You think you have it bad? At least, the wholeSoCal Hotshotsthing has ladies hankering for hook and ladder men. As for my single deputies? They’ll be bidding on each other.”
I scrub my eyes with the heels of my hands. Personally, I’d like the floor to swallow me whole. But I haven’t seen much progress in that direction. Instead, I’m hoping for a quick visit to the stage—no drama, no bids.
“Phoenix gets to find out next,” Waldon says, eyeing me like I have anything to say.
He doesn’t need a reminder I’m the quiet one. I grunt anyway.
“Just want to get this over with,” Aiden chimes in. “Grab a beer and go to bed.”
Onstage, the bidding is intensifying.
“Damn,” I say, finally unable to hold back. “Hollywood might raise enough in one fell swoop the rest of us can go home and forget this ever happened.”
“Won’t get off that easy,” Hawk chimes in, one of Rough & Ready’s helicopter pilots. He’s married to Roxy, the organizer of tonight’s event, a small-town bachelor auction to benefit her charity, Three Nations Animal Rescue.
“He might,” Waldon chimes in, listening for a second to the booms from the stage’s sound system. “Can’t skate by on his good looks like I can.” He flexes his square-cut jaw, growling under his breath to emphasize his ego.
“In your dreams,” I grumble, but the ending gets cut off by uproarious applause and screams. “You still planning to break auction records?”
Waldon smirks, popping his gum. “Oh, I’ve got my eye on one bidder in particular.”
“Yeah?” His grin shifts, just slightly. “Yeah. And she hates me.”
I snort. “You’re screwed.”
“Already know it.”
Nothing ever changes with Waldon—the smug one—or Aiden the grumpy one. Been on the same crew long enough to know better, two years. But our newest brother, Ambrose “Hollywood” Dutch remains what you might call a wild card.
Tonight’s proving it.
“Damn, you’d think Morgan Wallen were out there or something,” McLeod frowns.
Chaos descends as Hollywood leaves the stage, and we get pushed out into the hallway by the janitorial closet.
“Pretty much sums up the night,” Aiden grumbles, regarding the sign on the door with a tap of his finger.
“You’re next up,” Kurt, our fire chief says, sticking his head out in the hallway. He’s pointing at me.
“Tough act to follow,” Waldon says with a wicked laugh.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be there soon enough,” I answer, sauntering back toward the stage. Halfway down the hallway, Hollywood comes rushing out with Sheriff McLeod and the DMV lady, stopping me in my tracks.
“Well, I’ll be,” I mutter, making room as they pass, a plan already in the works to spirit them out of here without all his fans getting in on the action.
The rest happens quickly. Before I know it, I’m on stage with Dallas, one of Hollister’s local rodeo announcers. I stare into a blinding white light, sweating like I’m under interrogation.
Or having a near-death experience. The funereal atmosphere in the room doesn’t help one bit. Gone are the screams and catcalls. So is the energy. Just as I predicted, everyone left after Ambrose’s debut. Why they chose to put him out first, I’ll never know.
