He shrugs. “Not famous like Hollywood. Nobody’ll care when I leave.”
“Good,” I say, smiling back. “I’m not a fan of paparazzi and screaming fans.”
The auctioneer’s booming voice fills the gymnasium all over again. Solitary cheers and claps rise. Another firefighter has taken the stage.
“Waldon,” he says, eyeing me hesitantly. “If you want to get a refund, bid on him instead, I get it.”
“Are you always this funny?” I say before realizing he means it.
His eyes sweep to the side, like he’s looking for an escape route.
“I prefer strong and silent, actually.”
“He’s strong, too,” the man offers.
I shake my head. “Nope, I bid on you. Name’s Scarlett, by the way, Scarlett Fuller, and they said you’re Phoenix?”
He clears his throat, eyeing me somberly. But his cheeks flush, and his indigo eyes darken, giving something away. I don’t know him well enough to know what it is yet, though. “Donovan Lane, but I go by Phoenix with the crew.”
“Phoenix. Like the place or the bird?”
His jaw tightens, a muscle flexing. “Both. I’m from Arizona originally… and I guess you could say, I’ve risen from the ashes more than once.” He rubs a hand over his buzzed head.
“Good,” I say, smiling thinning. “Because that’s exactly what I could use more of right now—rebirth energy.”
His eyes narrow, and his eyes drop to my mouth for just a second before he looks away again. “Rebirth? Like you need to let go of the past or something?”
“Exactly,” I say, voice guarded as I scrutinize his face again. Everything about him says I can trust him. I don’t know why. “And I need to do something fun for once. Live it up. Quit worrying about the consequences.”
“Vegas is good for that, I hear.”
“Guess we’ll find out,” I say. “And just so you know, I’m also looking for some temporary protection.” My eyes drop to one bicep. “Figured you’d fit the bill.”
He scowls. “Like a bodyguard?”
“A firefighter bodyguard.” I laugh.
“Didn’t need to pay five hundred dollars for that,” he says gruffly. “If you’re in trouble… I’m not walking away.”
He says it like he means it. I can’t breathe for a moment, and I have to search for my next words.
“You wouldn’t have said that five minutes ago,” I counter, cheeks flushing. “Consider the five hundred a finder’s fee.”
He shifts uneasily, crossing his arms. “I’m a cowboy, too. Hope you’re okay with that?”
His words surprise me, though I’ve lived in northern California long enough to be around my fair share.
“Like a whiskey shooting, tobacco chewing cowboy?” I ask, scrunching my nose.
He shakes his head. “More like open your door and dance in the parking lot to country tunes cowboy.”
“Oh.” What is it about this guy that has me making those little sounds?
“Figure that’s all a part of the Vegas experience, right?”
“Lucky us.” I grin. “Youcanget away for a few days, right?” I have to ask, show I’m remotely responsible. Okay, usuallyonlyresponsible. I never cut loose like I’m thinking about tonight.
But who am I to turn down fate? Or whatever this is.
