But good. This’ll go by quickly… and uneventfully.
“Alright now, ladies,” Dallas says, putting his full bravado into it. “Our next bachelor is personal friends and colleagues with Avery Ross.”
I roll my eyes. That’s the name of Ambrose’s TV character. “If you’re looking for the inside scoop on our own celebrity fireman, Donovan’s the man.”
No, I’m not. I’m the quiet guy.
“Isn’t that right?” Dallas says tipping the mic toward me. But he thinks better of it at the last second, pulling it back before I can say anything.
He adds like the ringleader of a circus, “He may even throw in one of his comrade’s autographs if you play your cards right.”
For God’s sake!
Dallas grins like he just struck gold, feeding off even the smallest ripple in the crowd.
And I meanslightest.
“Now don’t let the strong, silent type fool you,” he continues, pacing the stage in those ridiculous rhinestone boots. “This man right here is the one you want when things go sideways. Fire, flood, cat stuck in a tree?—”
A few scattered laughs drift up from the remaining crowd.
I shift my weight, squinting into the glare. He’s not wrong. Just… not helping.
“—and I hear he’s the kind of guy who sticks,” Dallas adds, lowering his voice like he’s letting them in on a secret. “Loyal. Dependable. The one who doesn’t walk away.”
That gets a few more murmurs. Great. Now I’m a golden retriever.
“Let’s start the bidding at fifty dollars,” he calls. “Do I hear fifty?”
Silence.
That’s predictable.
I resist the urge to shove my hands in my pockets.
Told you.
A chair scrapes somewhere in the back. Someone coughs. The energy in the room is nothing like it was for Hollywood. No frenzy. No screaming.
Just… polite disinterest.
“Fifty?” Dallas tries again, a little less sparkle in his tone.
A hand lifts halfway, then drops.
I huff out a breath, glancing toward the curtain where Waldon and Aiden are probably enjoying the hell out of this.
“Come on now,” Dallas pushes, clapping once. “You’re telling me none of you ladies want a fireman who actually shows up?”
I hear a few chuckles. Still no bids.
I roll my shoulders, ready to step back and call it.
Then, I hear a voice cut through the too-quiet gymnasium with its gaudy strings of lights and burnt cotton candy smell. “Fifty.”
My head lifts before I can stop it, and there she is. Standing near the side of the room, paddle raised just enough to be seen.
Number… hell, I can’t even make it out through the lights. But I see her.
