by Roni Loren
He’d done a little research over the past few days and had found that most cooking blogs were by women. The ones with guys tended to be professional chef situations or healthy living bodybuilder types who were super into green smoothies and grain-free everything. He thought maybe there was space in between for what he could offer—easy, budget-friendly recipes that single people could make for themselves or cook for their dates or friends. Recipes a novice cook like Andi wouldn’t be intimidated by and that wouldn’t cost a fortune to make.
“Hey, it’s almost time for the show. You ready, my man?” A hand landed on Hill’s shoulder. “Have you practiced your Magic Mike moves yet?”
Hill glanced up from his phone to find Ramsey grinning and looking way too enthusiastic. “Can I just have Andi give you the money now and save myself the stage?”
Ramsey laughed and squeezed Hill’s shoulder. “And forgo my opportunity to shamelessly pimp you? Where would the fun be in that?”
Hill flipped him off.
“Come on,” Ramsey said, leaning in. “Josh and Christina are supposed to be here. Don’t you want to have them witness your pretty neighbor throwing money at you?”
Hill smirked, enjoying Ramsey’s mean-girls vindictive side even if it wasn’t needed at the moment. “Chris and I are actually on okay terms now. We talked.”
“Oh yeah?” Ramsey asked, head cocked. “Wow. That’s good, man. Glad to hear it. But Joshy?”
Hill sniffed derisively. “He can go to hell.”
“That’s the spirit!” Ramsey said. “Now be ready to go. You’re going first, so I can put you out of your misery.” He ran a hand over his head, a cocky look on his face. “And I will, of course, be last because I’m the grand prize.”
“You’re a prize, all right,” Hill said with a droll tone. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Eager, huh?” Ramsey teased. “I love it.”
A few minutes later, Hill stood off to the side and out of the view of the crowd as Ramsey went to a podium on the other side of the stage and talked about the charity they were raising money for tonight. Hill could see some of the audience, but he couldn’t find Andi. He knew she was there. She’d texted him when she and her friends had arrived. He hadn’t asked her to do that, but he’d appreciated the extra assurance. Getting up there and not seeing her familiar face in the audience was a nightmare that had woken him from a dead sleep last night. And of course, in the nightmare, he’d been on stage naked because…nightmares loved nudity.
“And now for our first bachelor,” Ramsey said into the microphone, bringing Hill’s focus back.
His heart was already pounding, and he wiped his damp palms on his jeans. Please let this be over quickly.
“Our first bachelor is a true hero,” Ramsey went on. “Hill Dawson was a valued member of our station for eight years. Beyond being a guy you could always trust to have your back in an emergency situation, he was also our favorite firehouse cook.” Ramsey leaned closer to the mic. “Which means he can cook, ladies.”
There were claps and whoops from the crowd.
“During a five-alarm fire at an apartment building, Hill was helping evacuate families when he heard the roof starting to give way,” Ramsey went on. “Though the danger was clear, Hill rushed back in and saved three additional people and the family dog before the roof caved in and a beam landed on him.”
There were murmurs in the crowd. Hill closed his eyes, trying to breathe and forcing himself to count the breaths so that he didn’t let his mind go to the memory. Ramsey had promised him that he wouldn’t go into anything but the most basic details so as not to trigger Hill. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four.
“So, though he’s now retired from the station, Hill is the guy I look to when I need lessons in being a badass. He is my friend. He is a hero. And tonight, for the right price, he can be your karaoke date.” Ramsey looked toward the side of the stage where Hill was standing in the shadows. He waved him forward. “Everyone, please welcome our first eligible bachelor of the night, Hill Dawson.”
The crowd erupted in applause. Hill’s throat was tight and his shoulder muscles locked, but he forced himself to move forward. The spotlights aimed at the small stage were blinding for a moment, but Hill made his way toward Ramsey and then turned to face the audience, pasting a half smile on his face.
When his eyes adjusted to the lights, he caught sight of red hair off to the left. Andi was smiling and clapping, her gaze a little shiny as it locked on him. The wash of relief and delight that went through him from seeing her there almost knocked him backward. The world felt lighter when Andi was around. She was like the human version of an Instagram filter, making everything a little softer and a lot more beautiful. His forced smile grew into a real one.
“So,” Ramsey said. “Let’s open up the bidding at fifty dollars.”
Hill kept his eyes on Andi. They’d given everyone little cardboard auction paddles with numbers on them. He waited for her to lift hers but before she could, a voice from the right side of the crowd shouted. “I bid fifty!”
“Fifty dollars to the lovely lady holding number twenty-two,” Ramsey said.
Hill found the bidder, a pretty woman with light-brown skin and long, dark hair—Amir’s sister. Hill remembered meeting her once at one of the events for firefighters’ families, but it’d been a while. Amir was another of his friends being auctioned tonight.
“Seventy-five,” someone shouted from somewhere near the back wall. A blond with a group of laughing girlfriends.
The quick bids surprised Hill. He glanced toward Andi. Her face was half-turned, an annoyed look on her face. She raised her number fourteen sign. “One hundred!”
“We have one hundred from the front row,” Ramsey said, sending a knowing smile Hill’s way.
“One fifteen,” Amir’s sister announced.
“One twenty-five.” This from a new voice near Andi.
Oh shit.
Andi was looking truly perturbed now, and Hill was trying to keep the worry off his face. He’d only given Andi a hundred and fifty bucks. He hadn’t expected the bidding to go this high.
“One fifty,” the blond in the back said.
Hill’s stomach flipped over. She’d topped out what Andi had.
“I love this,” Ramsey said. “A battle with a good cause as the winner. Let’s throw some more money at him, ladies!”
Andi looked at Hill with wide eyes. A different version of his nightmare was coming true. He never should’ve agreed to this or made this plan to outwit the system, but how could he have guessed that anyone would spend that much money just to sing karaoke with some washed-up firefighter?
“Two hundred!” Andi announced, waving her sign.
Hill let out a breath. Thank God.
“Two twenty-five,” the blond countered.
Andi turned her head, a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look on her face. Hill knew she didn’t have a pile of available cash to throw at this. Panic that he’d be stuck with some stranger tonight grew. But as he watched Andi, her friend Eliza grabbed Andi’s wrist to lift the sign in the air. “Five hundred!”
“Whoa,” Ramsey said, sending Hill a delighted look. “Five hundred to the ladies up front.”
To Hill’s great relief, that over-the-top donation quieted the competition. Andi grinned and put her arm around Eliza and kissed her cheek.
“Going once, going twice,” Ramsey said, thankfully not drawing it out. “Number fourteen, you have won yourself an evening of karaoke and drinks with Mr. Hill Dawson. Thank you for your generous donation!”
Andi let out a whoop, and the rest of the crowd clapped. She hurried to the steps at the edge of the stage and Hill headed down to meet her. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up off her feet, and kissed her, forgetting people were still watching.
There were a few sounds of encouragemen
t from the crowd.
Ramsey cleared his throat. “And just to clarify. These two know each other, so please don’t kiss your firefighter when you win him. Boundaries, y’all.”
There was a ripple of laughter, and then Ramsey moved on to the next introduction, taking the spotlight off of them. Andi grabbed Hill’s hand and led him away from the front and toward a spot where her friends had gathered. “Look, everyone,” she announced. “We’ve bought ourselves a firefighter!”
The guy who had his arm around Hollyn—a lanky dude with dark hair and glasses—smiled. “Wow, I’ve always wanted one of those. Does he come with his own fire truck and Dalmatian?”
Hill laughed.
The guy stepped forward and put out his hand. “Jasper Deares. Hollyn’s fiancé.”
Hill shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. Hill Dawson, Andi’s purchase.”
Andi snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re a shared purchase tonight. Eliza here contributed to the fund.”
Hill turned to Eliza. “You’re my hero. Thank you. I can pay you back.”
Eliza laughed. “You don’t have to do that. It was my pleasure. No way someone else was getting my girl’s date.” She shrugged. “Plus, it’s a good cause. I’ve spent money on worse things.”
Andi leaned her head on Eliza’s shoulder. “My friends are the best. They buy me men.”
“Men?” Hill teased. “Who are these other men?”
Andi sidled up next to him and hooked her arm in his. “Kidding. I’ll just take the one.” She glanced at the stage where bidding was firing up again. “So, do y’all want to go next door to the party area or do you want to see more of this part?”
“I’m ready for a drink,” Hollyn said, and Jasper nodded.
“Girl, me too,” Eliza agreed. “Come on. Let’s head over and get a jump on all the best finger foods.”
Jasper took Hollyn’s hand, and Eliza walked alongside them, leaving Hill and Andi behind. Andi let them get a few steps ahead before she started walking. She glanced up at him. “You okay?”
“I am now,” he said, meaning it. “Seeing your face in the audience got me through that.”
Her lips curved. “Well, if you were nervous, it didn’t show. You looked super sexy up there. Very broody and mysterious. That’s why all the ladies were fighting over you.”
The compliment warmed him, and he chuckled. “That wasn’t broody and mysterious. That was awkward and slightly terrified. But thank you.” He lifted the hands they had clasped together and kissed her knuckles. “I’m glad I’m all yours tonight.”
“Same.” They maneuvered around the back of the crowd, nearing the blond who’d bid on him. Andi sent her a saccharine smile as they passed.
A rush of affection moved through him. Andi was being playful, but he found he liked that little spark of possessiveness, liked being the guy holding her hand, liked her.
No. More than liked.
Fuck. His breath whooshed out of him.
They were almost to the door that led to the party room, but Andi glanced at him and stopped. He must’ve been wearing his thoughts on his face.
“Hill,” she said, concern entering her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he managed to say.
“You sure?” She put the back of her hand to his cheek. “You look pale.”
He swallowed hard, trying to shove the thoughts that had escaped back into the mental closet he needed to keep them in, and forced a small smile. “I’m fine. I got a little light-headed for a minute. I ate an early lunch and haven’t had anything since.”
Mostly the truth. He was definitely light-headed.
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Well, let’s get some food in you, okay? Maybe being onstage and fought over by multiple women was too much for an empty stomach.”
“Maybe so.”
Andy hooked her arm in his again and steered him toward the party room. Inside, the room was already filling up with people. Some were in line at the tables of food. Others were getting drinks from the bar, which was where Andi’s friends had gone. Karaoke wasn’t supposed to start until the auction was over, so CJ the DJ, a female firefighter from the other firehouse, was playing “Light My Fire” by the Doors.
Andi looked to the DJ booth and then to Hill. “Interesting song choice.”
He nodded. “Yeah. She did this at a barbecue once. She has a playlist of all fire-related songs. It will be fun watching people try to dance to ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’ by Billy Joel.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got dance moves for every beat.” She playfully swung her arms in a move that looked suspiciously like the Carlton. She looked at his face, her silly smile sagging, and stopped. “I didn’t say they were good moves.”
“It’s not that,” he said with a frown. “It’s just…I won’t be dancing.”
“Oh. Right,” she said, her tone bright but awkward. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“That’s not something I’ve practiced yet with the prosthesis,” he said, feeling like a rain cloud on her parade. “I’m not going to test that out in front of a crowd. A slow dance, maybe, but nothing fast.”
“It’s fine,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “I doubt there will be much dancing anyway. Karaoke is the main attraction.”
She didn’t look bothered, but the knot in his stomach was growing.
“Let’s get some food.” She took his hand. “I’m starving and there’s nothing I love more than tiny crustless sandwiches.”
***
Andi was trying to keep her attitude upbeat as she and Hill filled their plates and headed over to her friends, but alarm bells were going off in her head. Hill had been fine when he’d met her by the stage. Hell, he’d been so happy, he’d picked her up off her feet and kissed her in front of everyone. It was like one of those moments in Eliza’s romantic comedies. The sweet move had made Andi’s heart swell. But then just as quickly as the moment had happened, it was as if a switch had gone off in Hill.
For a few seconds, he’d looked so pale she’d thought he may pass out, but she sensed it was more than low blood sugar. His entire expression had shut down. It’d been like when she’d first met him and he’d worn that steel-wall expression, the one that obscured everything from view. Like a door slamming in her face. She hoped maybe it was because he was back among his fellow firefighters. She knew things were kind of awkward with some of them, but it felt like more than that.
They joined her friends at a table, and she managed to keep up with the conversation as they drank and ate. Luckily, Eliza was regaling them with stories, so it gave her time to reset. Eventually, after a glass of wine and too many finger sandwiches, Andi had shaken off most of the worry and was enjoying spending time with the people she cared about. Hill seemed to be loosening up a little, too. She reached out and grabbed his hand under the table. He gently squeezed her fingers.
The room had filled up and was echoing with conversations and laughter. The DJ had Andi grinning with all her fiery song choices, but when Katy Perry’s “Firework” ended, CJ didn’t blend it into another track. She spoke into the microphone instead.
“We’re going to kick off karaoke in a few minutes, so start making your choices. But before then, let’s play a few slow ones. Ladies, get those firefighters you bid on out on the dance floor. And don’t let them claim they can’t dance. Anyone can do the high-school-prom penguin.” CJ mimed the stiff side-to-side swaying slow dance that high schoolers often did. “Let’s do this.”
James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain” started up, and Jasper pushed his chair back from the table. He put his hand out to Hollyn. “May I have this dance, milady? I do a fine penguin.”
Hollyn gave him an adoring look and took his hand. “I’d be honored.”
Eliza scooted her chair back as well. “Y’all
go dance. I need to go to the little girls’ room.”
“Oh, we aren’t going to—” Andi started, but Hill tightened his grip on her hand.
“I can probably manage a penguin,” he said, lifting her hand. “If you’re willing to join me.”
Andi’s belly did a little flutter. She knew Hill didn’t have the sudden urge to dance. He was doing this for her. “I’d love to.” She let him pull her gently to a stand. “I actually don’t know if I can penguin. I never went to prom.”
Hill frowned, and she could tell that he’d read between the lines. She hadn’t gone to prom because prom had happened post–Evan Longdale. No way would she have been in any state to be held by a boy and not have a compete panic attack. She’d spent her prom night watching Prom Night, parts one, two, and three.
Hill led her out to the dance floor, where a number of other couples had already started to sway under the twinkle lights that had been strung from the ceiling. They found a spot, and she looped her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to this if you don’t want to, you know.”
He squeezed her hip, a slightly sad look on his face. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I love being close to you like this.”
“I love it too,” she said softly and then leaned in to kiss him lightly.
She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Hill didn’t talk, allowing the music to sweep her away a little, and he guided her gently into movements that were definitely smoother than a penguin waddle. Soon, she felt herself sinking into the moment, imagining this was her prom and this was the guy and this was a real date and a real relationship.
They were dangerous thoughts, but she let herself indulge in them for now.
The song ended and blended into Sarah McLachlan’s “World on Fire” and the beat picked up a little. She lifted her head, looking into Hill’s eyes as he guided her into a turn. Sarah sang a line about not being alone in this story’s pages, and Andi felt a surprising urge to cry. She’d always had friends but, on some level, had always felt alone. No one could understand what she’d been through. No one could relate. But what she saw in Hill’s eyes told a different story. The guy knew pain, too. He knew that separate-from-the-world-but-still-living-in-it feeling. He saw her, not the armor she tried to put on each day. He’d known she needed this dance.