Page 11 of Vodka And Virtue

“As you said, it’s all for charity, bro. Do it for a good cause.”

The bids started immediately. A woman from the front row raised her hand. “A hundred!”

“That’s a nice opening bid,” Carson said, chuckling. “Can I get two?”

“Two!” A tall man called out from the back of the room.

Carlisle’s mouth parted in shock, and he looked to his brother.

“Three,” yelled a woman in the front.

They volleyed back and forth in fifty dollar increments. The tall man in the back was really interested and kept upping the bid.

Over my dead fucking body, mister. He’s mine!

When he settled on four-fifty, the fire roiling within me boiled over.

“Six hundred,” I called out, arms crossed over my chest, daring someone, anyone, to outbid me.

“Sold!” Carson’s eyes twinkled under the stage lights, a satisfied smile stretched his lips.

But Carlisle seemed to be in a state of shock. He stared at me, mouth agape, eyes wide. I stared right back, showing him I didn’t regret my actions.

I was willing to get a date with him any way I could, even if I had to buy it.

The crowd dispersed, some leaving, others drifting back to the bar, but I stood my ground, waiting for Carlisle to thaw from his frozen state. Finally, he made his way to me. His face was a mask, completely impassive, and I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling.

He swallowed and raised his chin just a notch, looking more confident. “Wow, I didn’t know you were so conservation minded. Six hundred dollars to save the oceans?” He seemed more than skeptical.

“I’d do anything for the turtles.” The heat in my eyes said it had nothing to do with turtles as I held his gaze steady.

“Is that so? Then you wouldn’t mind making our date at the beach?”

He didn’t seem angry, which was a good sign. “I love the beach.”

Would I really get lucky enough to have a day in the sun and surf with him? Would he wear a tiny bathing suit?

“Good.” Carlisle smirked and dug in his back pocket. He held up a pamphlet with the Save The Oceans logo on the front. “They’re planning a beach cleanup next weekend.”

He smiled when I groaned miserably. “That’s not quite what I had in mind. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll join you at the beach if you come on a real date with me.”

He hesitated for a moment before agreeing. “Fine.”

I insistedon picking Carlisle up at his house, against his protestations. But for six hundred dollars, he could deal with it. He wore dark gray joggers and a white long-sleeved T-shirt with a baseball cap covering his hair. He kept his dark sunglasses in place as he climbed into the front seat of my truck.

“Do you ever wear anything besides black?” He frowned, motioning to the black cargo pants and black long-sleeved shirt I wore.

“Hello to you, too, Carly. It's going to be a beautiful afternoon. Slightly windy and cool, but with plenty of sunshine.”

“It's Carlisle.”

Choosing to ignore his correction, I asked, “So, have you done many of these beach cleanups before?”

“Nope. This is my first.”

“Well, that makes two of us. Maybe after we work, we can grab a bite to eat.”

He pretended to check his watch, except he wasn't wearing one.

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