5. Rhett
FIVE
RHETT
I tugged at the collar of my shirt, wishing I was anywhere but on this damned stage. My shoulder throbbed. I needed ice, not a fucking spotlight. But Chief Holloway had shoved me up here with a, “Do it for the department, Tater.” I hadn’t been around to do anything for the department in a year, so it wasn’t like I could argue. Chief caught my eye from the side of the stage and offered two thumbs up and an encouraging nod. Easy for him. He wasn’t the one up here being sized up like a side of beef. Perks of being the boss, I supposed.
Then I spotted Pepper.
Right there in the front row, in an emerald green dress that made me almost swallow my own tongue. It clung to every single curve my hands remembered and made it evident they were a little more generous than they had been when I’d left. My fingers itched to explore. The abbreviated hemline gave me a clear view of those long, creamy thighs. My brain instantly imagined them wrapped around my hips as I plunged deep, and it took every shred of my control to stop myself from popping a woody right here on stage.
It was the anxiety and sadness in her gray-green eyes that did it. One high-heel-clad foot bounced with a frenetic energy that rivaled Twitch, and her hands were all but white-knuckling her clutch. She didn’t want to be here any more than I did.
“Let’s start the bidding at $100,” Cord announced, his voice carrying that practiced showmanship that earned him the nickname Hollywood. “Who’ll give me $100 for this fine specimen of firefighting excellence?”
“One hundred!” A paddle shot up near the end of the row.
I barely registered who it was. My eyes were locked on Pepper, watching her fidget with the thin gold bracelet on her wrist—the one I’d given her on our third anniversary. She still wore it. That tiny detail hit me harder than any IED ever could.
Before the divorce, she’d have been the first paddle in the air. She’d bid whatever it took to “save” me, as she’d put it. To keep me from having to spend an awkward evening with someone who might get handsy or talk my ear off. She’d laugh later as we drove home, telling me I owed her big time for the rescue operation. I always paid up willingly.
But that wasn’t my life anymore. I’d destroyed that when I chose the job over her one too many times, instead of working on our marriage. I didn’t deserve her protection now.
So what the hell was she doing here?
She sat rigid between two friends who had their arms linked with hers like they were afraid she might bolt. Maybe they were right. The set of her jaw told me she was gritting her teeth, a habit she’d had since high school when she was holding back words she might regret.
“Two hundred!” A brunette a few seats down from Pepper raised her paddle. Meghan Garcia, who owned that boutique downtown that Pepper had always dragged me into.
Pepper’s head whipped toward her so fast that her long auburn hair flew out like a banner. The look she gave Meghan could have melted steel. Meghan just flashed an unapologetic smile that quickly faded as someone else in the room shouted.
“Three hundred!”
The bid came from the back of the room, and I watched Pepper’s shoulders slump just a fraction. Relief? Disappointment? I couldn’t tell anymore. I used to be able to read her every micro-expression, but now she was a book written in a language I was no longer fluent in.
One of her other friends—Allie from Pie Hard—snatched the paddle from Pepper’s lap and flashed it, a determined expression on her face.
I watched Pepper’s eyes widen in horror. She made a desperate grab for it, but Allie twisted away, holding it just out of reach.
“What are you doing?” Pepper hissed, loud enough that I could hear it from the stage.
Allie ignored her, exchanging a meaningful look with Jess and Meghan that confirmed my suspicions. This was a setup. Those three had conspired to get Pepper here tonight, and now they were forcing her hand. I couldn’t decide whether I should be grateful that they appeared to be on my side or not.
“Four hundred!” someone called from the middle of the room.
“Five hundred!” Allie countered immediately, while Pepper tried to sink lower in her seat, that peaches-and-cream complexion flushing the same deep red I remembered from our first kiss behind the bleachers freshman year.
“Give me that!” She lunged for the paddle again, but Jess caught her arm.
“Six hundred!” A blonde woman near the back raised her paddle.
Meghan leaned across Pepper. “We’re doing this for your own good.”
“Seven hundred!” Allie shouted, waving the paddle like a victory flag.
The bidding intensified. I stood there like an idiot, watching the price of my company for one dinner climb higher than I’d ever imagined. Eight hundred. Nine hundred. A thousand. Christ. The department would be thrilled, but my stomach knotted tighter with each bid.
Every time the price jumped, Pepper’s friends would confer in whispers, then raise their paddle again. Pepper had given up fighting and now sat with her arms crossed, staring daggers at Hollywood, as if this whole fiasco was his fault.
“Twelve hundred!” called the blonde from the back.
“Thirteen hundred!” Allie shouted without hesitation.
“Fourteen hundred!” The blonde wasn’t giving up.
Pepper suddenly grabbed the paddle from Allie’s hand and stood up. The room went quiet.
“Fifteen hundred,” she announced, her voice steady despite the storm in her eyes.
The auctioneer glanced around the room. “Fifteen hundred going once... going twice...”
The blonde woman shook her head with a disappointed smile.
“Sold to Pepper DeLuca!”
The crowd erupted in applause, but all I could focus on was Pepper’s face. She looked like she’d just signed her own death warrant. Her friends were beaming, patting her back and whispering congratulations while she stood frozen, paddle still raised, staring at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
Shit. We were going to have dinner together. After everything that had happened between us, after all the things we’d said and couldn’t take back.
Well, I’d wanted an in with her. I just hadn’t imagined it would be this.
Relieved of my duty as meat, I stepped off the stage on unsteady legs, wanting nothing more than to beeline straight for Pepper. Our eyes locked across the crowded room, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Fifteen hundred dollars. She’d spent fifteen hundred dollars to have dinner with her ex-husband. What the hell did that mean?
But Pepper had already sunk back into her seat, her friends clustering around her like a protective shield. The auctioneer was already calling for the next “item” up for bid, and Chief Holloway caught my elbow.
“Good job, Tater. That’s a record.” He clapped me on the back, narrowly missing my bad shoulder. “Sit tight. Protocol says we all go up at the end for a final bow.”
Right. Protocol. The same thing that had me risking my life on the regular instead of fixing my marriage. I swallowed my frustration and took a seat in the back row reserved for the “merchandise.”
Kyle slid into the seat beside me, leg bouncing like he’d mainlined caffeine. “Dude. Your ex-wife just dropped more than my monthly rent to have dinner with you.”
“Thanks for the news flash, Twitch.”
“You think she still?—”
“Shut up,” I growled.
The auction dragged on like a twenty-four-hour shift. Probie Sanchez went for eight hundred to a giggling table of nurses. Rodriguez pulled in just over a grand from a retired widow who winked at him so suggestively I thought he might combust. Even cranky old Bartlett from B-shift managed seven-fifty.
Through it all, I kept stealing glances at Pepper. She’d composed herself, but her rigid posture told me she was still rattled. Once, I caught her looking back at me, and she quickly averted her gaze, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear—a nervous habit I remembered all too well.
Finally, Hollywood called all of us back to the stage for a final bow. The crowd applauded as Chief Holloway announced the total—over fifteen thousand dollars for the department’s equipment fund.
As we dispersed, I saw Pepper rise from her seat, her friends still flanking her like bodyguards. I needed to talk to her, to figure out what had just happened, but she was already moving toward the exit, her steps quick and purposeful.
I’d waited through the entire damn auction. I wasn’t about to let her disappear now.
I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the congratulatory pats on my back and dodging the women who’d bid on me earlier. My eyes locked on that auburn hair bobbing toward the exit.
“Pepper!” I called, but my voice drowned in the sea of post-auction chatter.
She’d almost reached the lobby doors when I finally broke free, squeezing between a group of tipsy women.
“Pepper, wait!” I caught up to her in the lobby, gently taking her elbow. She startled at my touch, those gray-green eyes widening as she turned. Up close, she was even more beautiful than I remembered. The subtle lines at the corners of her eyes were new, but they suited her. Made her look more... real.
I jerked my head and guided her away from the flow of people toward a quiet alcove near the coat check.
“Rhett.” My name on her lips sent a jolt through me. How many times had I dreamed of hearing her voice again while I was deployed?
“Hey.” I released her arm, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands. “It’s good to see you.”
She crossed her arms, defensive. “This wasn’t my idea.”
“Fifteen hundred says differently.” I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.
Her cheeks flushed. “My friends are idiots.”
“Expensive idiots.”
That earned me the ghost of a smile before she caught herself. “Look, you don’t have to take me to dinner. I’ll make sure the money gets to the department, but we don’t need to?—”
“Them’s the rules, DeLuca.” I shrugged, feeling more like myself than I had in months. “You did rescue me again. Let me at least take you to dinner. We can share a meal, and if you don’t want to see me again after that, you don’t have to.”
She studied me for a long moment, uncertainty clouding her eyes. I held my breath, waiting.
“Fine,” she finally said. “One dinner.”
“One dinner,” I agreed, fighting to keep my face neutral when all I wanted was to grin like an idiot. “When’s your next night free?”