Let Me Love You (3 page)

Hard to believe the last part could be true, but what else could it be?

Within a few seconds, the bidding topped out at fifty dollars, and the chief jogged back to his office.

“For a second there,” Lucy said, leaning over to whisper into Rachael’s ear, “I thought you were going to buy him for me.”

“Thought about it.” Rachael shrugged her shawl-covered shoulders. “But I like him better.” She nudged her chin at Joey, who’d knelt at the front of the runway.

“He’s a huge improvement from the beer gut before him, but you can’t be serious.” Something tightened in Lucy’s middle. Had she forgotten to eat lunch today? “That’s a bad idea and you know it.”

“It’s one date, Luce, and it’s for charity!”

“All right, but don’t come crying to me when I break his heart in two and stomp it through the gutter.”

Lucy ordered another beer. This time when the waiter brought the drink, he placed a plastic dish filled with different kinds of truffles in the center of the table. She dived in immediately, feeling the buzz from the first two beers begin to warm her middle. The chocolate was soft and sweet with a hint of raspberry. Absolutely delish.

As Joey stood from the edge of the stage, the chief returned and took the microphone from his hand. “Before we end the evening, it’s time for Joey to step up! What do you think, ladies?”

The crowd went wild. Joey brought up his hands and backed away as if he didn’t want to take his turn, but the roar of the crowd brought him back front and center.

“Joey Brackett has lived in Blue Lake his entire life!” Bud boomed, his lips practically swallowing the microphone. “He’s never been married, works hard at the station, and owns a cabin outside of town. He’s the ultimate family man. Perfect catch for the lady wanting to settle down.”

Oh yeah. Perfect catch all right. For someone else. Although Bud’s words spoke of stability and future, they sounded a heck of a lot like chains and obligation. As if she didn’t get enough of that already.

With Dane, there’d be no risk in going on a date or two or three. No threat of him falling in love with her and pressuring her to get married and settle down. But she and Joey were truly mismatched. Complete opposites. He was Mr. Nice Guy and she was a man-eater to the core. He wanted long-term and she wanted something fun and carefree.

She’d destroy him.

“On second thought, I think this is a bad call, Rach,” Lucy thought aloud. “Probably the worst ever.” She shoved a truffle into her mouth.

“Two hundred dollars!” Rachael screamed, holding up a fistful of cash.

Lucy choked on the chocolate and chased the gooey clump with a swig of beer. She reached out to clutch Rachael’s shoulders, but her friend was already on the edge of her seat and pulling away, her arms waving in the air.

Joey’s gaze flashed their way, a hopeful glint in the dark depths. “Two hundred to Rachael McCoy!”

“Not for me,” Rachael corrected, leaning toward the stage. “I’m bidding for Lucy Stone!”

His expression changed. A smile curved the corner of his lips, revealing a tiny dimple on his right cheek. God, he really was a specimen, wasn’t he? Early-thirties. Tall, dark, and handsome. A shadow on his chin and a gleam in his eye. Her skin flushed and heat flooded her center, taking her off guard. Did Dane have the same heated gaze? The same primal intensity? They were twins, so they should have the same smoldering traits, shouldn’t they? She hadn’t seen Dane in a long while, but she shuddered at the thought.

Maybe after she went out on a date with Joey, she could get the 411 on his brother. See what kind of women he liked. She could casually mention she would go out with Dane, too. If he’d only ask her. If she and Joey went on a real date, it’d be rude to mention his brother, but their date would be for charity purposes only. They’d start as friends and part as friends.

“Okay, Rach!” Lucy tugged on her friend’s sweater, painfully aware that Joey hadn’t broken eye contact. Her hands were clammy, so she rubbed them on her jeans. “I’m in!”

“Hell yeah, you’re in.” Rachael dug through her purse and fished out another hundred. “I’m buying you a man!”

By the time Lucy’s cheeks burned red with the promise of finally bedding Dane, the auction had ended. She vowed then and there to get her paws on the elusive playboy. But first, his brother would have to be hers for one day and one night.

Lord watch over Joey’s helplessly romantic soul.

Date for a Dollar had gone off without a hitch.

Between the silent auction, the firefighters’ bids, and the open donations by local businesses, the station would be sending over five thousand dollars to local programs that assisted students struggling with dyslexia. Fifteen firefighters had been auctioned off for dates. Some were excited—obviously the ones purchased by good-looking Blue Lake daughters. Others weren’t so lucky. The chief left the stage grumbling, right after he’d been purchased by a seventy-year-old bus driver who had a penchant for cigarettes, expensive scotch, and pinching rear ends.

As the crowd filed out of the station, Joey and the rest of his crew got to work cleaning up the mess. Folding chairs. Breaking down the wooden runway, separating it into pieces, and stowing it for next year.

He tried not to think about his date with Lucy Stone as he grabbed a broom and swept the station, but he couldn’t help it.

He’d known her since high school, but had never thought about asking her out. He’d had his eye on her best friend Rachael for as long as he could remember. But last year, when he’d finally made a move and kissed Rachael for the first time, there was nothing there. No spark. No hardening in his middle or desire to take her to bed.

Something had definitely been missing. He’d wasted too many years pining after a woman he’d built up in his mind.

The woman he wanted didn’t exist.

And now that he’d spent so long focused on Rachael, it wasn’t exactly gentlemanly to ask out her best friend.

“Hey,” a sultry voice said from behind him. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He spun, broom in hand.

“Lucy, hey!” He paused, unsure whether he should hug her, shake her hand, or stare. Over the years, he hadn’t talked to her more than a few times, and it’d been short, yet cordial. They’d always been on good terms. Friends of friends. He decided on a hug. He pulled her into a loose embrace and absentmindedly breathed in a whiff of her curly crimson hair. She smelled good. Sweet and fresh, like flowers blowing in the winter wind. “Good to see you.”

She pulled back, one hand clutching her purse strap and the other holding a napkin topped with truffles. Leather pants and a tight black tank top clung to her petite frame, accentuating the subtle curves of her body. She was built like a gymnast, lean and muscular, without a lot of softness to her. She was probably one of those girls who did crazy fad workouts and ate nothing but salad, with the occasional chocolate binge. Redheads had a reputation for being fiery and opinionated, and Lucy definitely fit the bill from the rumors he’d heard.

“Good to see you, too.” She bit the side of her lip as if trying to pull off the coy vibe. “This was great. The auction was a hit, don’t you think?”

He scanned the room. Trash cans full of beer bottles. Tables against the wall filled with empty truffle trays. The DJ booth being taken down in the back of the station. Women leaving the firehouse, giddy smiles lighting their faces.

“Yeah, it went well.” As she stared, those green eyes boring into him, he started sweeping again. “Did you have fun?”

“Are you kidding?” She held up the chocolate. “I’m taking home a fistful.”

“And a date.”

“I’m not sure which is better.” She belly-laughed, holding up the chocolate to offer him some. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted; depended how much she liked chocolate. “Do you want a taste?”

Hell yes.
One close-up glance at those pouty lips and he couldn’t think of anything else. Instead of acting on his thoughts, he cleared his throat and said, “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

She took a bite of chocolate and gave a little innocent moan as the taste hit her. But the feeling stirring in Joey’s middle wasn’t innocent. In fact, it was far from it. He felt himself staring at her mouth, so he averted his gaze to the floor and continued sweeping out the engine bay. When had eating become sexy? She followed him slowly, shadowing his steps as he made his way into one of the dormitories.

Don’t look at her mouth.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Joey?” she asked simply.

He stopped sweeping and rested his hands on the top of the handle. “If I had a girlfriend, I doubt she would’ve let me be auctioned off for a date with you.”

She shrugged. “Not everyone is possessive.”

“True, but I’m single nonetheless.” Her words made him think. “What about you? Any boyfriends hanging around?”

She pursed her lips, backed away, and spread her arms to her sides. “Do I look like the type who wants a boyfriend attached to my hip?”

Leather pants. High boots. Black tank top clinging to her curves. Flaming red hair parted down the center and wild on the sides. Red-glossed lips and smoldering green eyes. No, she didn’t look like the kind of woman he’d bring home to his mother. She looked hot enough to scorch the clothes off a man. Sexy enough to make him beg for mercy and then die happily in her arms.

She was exactly the type of woman he should try to stay away from.

“No,” he said finally, “I heard that you like to be on your own.”

That got her folding her arms over her chest. “Where’d you hear that?”

From everyone in town.
“I don’t remember.”

“But if you’ve heard that, I bet everyone in your family has heard the same thing…”

Confused, he kinked his neck to the side. “My family? What does my family have to do with—”

“Nothing,” she said, waving her hand in front of her face. “It’s nothing.” She smiled, stole the broom from his hand, and tossed it against the wall. “So where are we going?”

“Umm…” He caught the broom as it slid down the wall and replaced it in the closet. “I hadn’t thought about it. We could go out next weekend, if you want, or the weekend after that. I don’t work Fridays or Saturdays at the station this month, so I’m free if you want to choose the day that works for you.”

“That’s nice of you to think of my schedule. Rachael said you were the ultimate gentleman.” She paused, measuring him. “How about we go on that date right now?”

“Now?”

She shrugged petite shoulders. “Why not? Do you have plans after this shindig?”

Yeah, he’d planned to finish cleaning up the mess, drive home, cook and eat a frozen dinner, and drink a cold beer before crashing on the couch. But he kept his mouth shut before he revealed how utterly lonely his life had become.

“We can have the date now,” he answered. “But you’ll have to wait for me to finish helping the guys clean up the station.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” She grinned. “I’ll be waiting for you out front.”

As she turned and strode back into the engine bay, Joey got the distinct impression Lucy was hurried for something. Anxious to start their date as if she wanted to get it over with and out of the way. He may not have dated girls like her very much—ones who were stubborn and independent and had devious intentions—but he knew when he was being baited for something.

And he planned on finding out what that was.

Joey finished cleaning up the firehouse, darted upstairs to grab his backpack, and took the fire pole down. Throwing a wave to Chief Hammock, who was yammering on the phone about his sour date to his cousin Earl, Joey strode out the front door. The air was cool, but there was very little wind. Just the way he liked it. From the feel of the air on his bare arms, they wouldn’t be expecting rain for another day or two. The stars would be bright tonight, sparkling like diamond chips against the black curtain of night.

He used to love flying on nights like this. When the world was quiet and dark and the wings of the plane sliced through the air like a knife through butter. When he was so close to heaven he could nearly touch it.

But that was before.

He mindlessly touched the scar beneath his jaw—the one that marked where the shrapnel from the crash had gone in, nearly severing his vocal cords.

When he reached the street, he looked west, toward town. Then he scanned east, toward the lakes and rivers that Blue Lake was known for. The cobblestone streets and wood-planked sidewalks were empty.

No Lucy in sight.

The woman was independent. Was she flighty, too?

“Where the devil’d you go?” he mumbled aloud.

“Over here, handsome,” someone hollered from the street beside the station.

He hustled around the corner and chuckled at the sight in front of him. His ninety-seven midnight-blue Chevy pickup truck was parked at the curb, right where he’d left it. Except now, the tailgate was pulled down and Lucy was lying in back with her legs kicked over the edge.

She really was something else.