Page 10 of Vodka And Virtue

I joined him, occupying the seat next to his. “A shot of tonic to calm your nerves?”

“I’m just trying to keep it together in the midst of everything falling apart. One of my bachelors is MIA and another is running late.”

Shannon slid a shot glass of McClelland single malt whiskey across the bar top, and I watched as Carlisle intercepted it and raised the glass to his lips, swallowing the contents in one gulp. He hissed from the smooth heat that was no doubt burning a path down to his belly.

“Damn, I needed that. Tell me this wasn’t a colossal mistake.”

Daring to touch him, I straightened his black bowtie and smiled into his eyes. “You’re the only man I know that could pull this off. It was a brilliant idea and it’s going to come together just fine.”

And then, out of nowhere, he gifted me one of his special smiles. The one that I had tried to earn for weeks and had failed. His entire face softened, his eyes sparkled, and I felt hypnotized by his aura.

Carlisle Carrick was absolutely beautiful.

I was more determined than ever to make him mine.

A man rushed past, jacket in hand, and Carlisle jumped off his stool. “That’s my late arrival. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” I called out.

I watched him dash toward the stage, and when I turned back around, my smile died a quick death as I stared into the ice-cold blue eyes of Shannon Calhoun, my friend. He didn’t look so friendly at the moment, though.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“You seem awfully sweet on my cousin. Tell me you’re not after him.”

I wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but of course, Carlisle was his business. They were family.

“Tell me why you think that’s such a bad idea.”

His glacial glare thawed, and he chuckled. “You know what? Go for it. This should be real entertaining.”

“You don’t think I have what it takes to land a guy like that?”

“I couldn’t say whether you do or you don’t. It’s more a matter of Carlisle never having dated a man before. Ever. And if he suddenly decided to, I don’t see you as being his type.”

“And what exactly is his type?”

He leaned back against the sink behind him with his thick arms crossed over his chest and smirked. “Not you.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see.”

“I guess we will,” he challenged.

By the time I joined the crowd in the lounge, the auction was well underway, and Carlisle was taking bids on the fourth bachelor.

“Can I get four hundred? Remember, it’s for charity, folks. Who would turn down a date with a firefighter? He’s a real-life hero!”

That drove the bidding up another two hundred dollars before it came to an end. Carlisle ducked his head behind the black curtain. When he returned to the stage, he looked nervous, his eyes darting around the room, swallowing and fidgeting with the microphone.

“It seems we have a slight change in the lineup. Due to a no-show, I’m one bachelor short. Thank you all for—”

His words were cut short by a thunderous chorus of boos from the crowd, and Carlisle’s eyes widened comically. He wasn’t expecting such a negative reaction. Carson jumped up onto the stage and intercepted the mic from his brother, coming to his rescue.

“Okay, settle down. I have a solution. I have another eligible bachelor for you. He’s no firefighter or marine biologist, but he’s single, good-looking, and has a degree in business and hotel management. He enjoys reading, beach days, and fine dining, and is interested in bids from women as well as men. So, how much will you donate for a date with my twin brother, Carlisle?”

Carlisle blanched, his color literally paled before my eyes. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and he wiped them away with the back of his forearm.

“Carson,” he hissed.

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