Page 8 of Fake It Till You Make It

“Hey, baby. Everything is fine.” His mother smiled up at her middle son, the worrywart of the pack.

Even as kids, Tobias had cataloged their injuries and checked the medicine bottles for expiration dates.

“I smell food.” Noah grabbed two biscuits, biting into one before acknowledging anyone in the room.

“Hey,” Eli protested. “Save one for me.”

With his mouth full, Noah shrugged. “You had first dibs. Always go for the win, big brother.”

His mom grinned. “Told you. No kiss for your momma, Noah Calvary?”

“Ugh, sorry Mom,” Noah said, his big boots scraping across the wood floor as he wrapped their momma in a bear hug before stealing a kiss.

“I have a plan to save the practice and the house,” she bubbled. “Take one.” She flipped over the pink stack and passed a single sheet to him and Tobias. Noah had his hands full with their breakfast.

Eli did a quick scan, pausing on his Army commissioning photo from five years earlier. That was a lifetime ago when he’d been a different man. “Mom, what is this?” he growled.

Tobias read aloud. “Silent Bachelor Auction Fundraiser.”

“Let me see that,” Noah said, stuffing his mouth with the second biscuit.

Younger than him by four years, Noah had not endured as much matchmaking crazy as he and Tobias. Apparently, that was about to change.

Silent Bachelor Auction Fundraiser: Save the Calvary Family Veterinary Clinic & Homestead. Place your private bid to win a romantic dinner for two with a Calvary brother. All 3 are available!

As a bonus, the winner gets 50% off our 12-month pet grooming package!

Tobias crushed the paper, beer can–style. “Count me out. I had to replace two tires and my windshield after declining a second groping from Dixie Ball, your last recommendation.”

“Disco Dixie. She’s a handsy one.” Noah winked, until their momma narrowed her eyes in warning. Before his baby brother could add more heat to the hot water pooling around his wildland fire boots, he changed the subject. “What I meant to say was, I saw these pink pimp posters tacked to every tree between here and Matt Johnson’s farm.”

“That’s a half mile up the mountainside,” Eli rasped. “How many of these blasted flyers have you posted?”

“Enough” was all she offered. “Plus, the paid ad in the county bulletin with your old Army picture.”

“This—this is a violation of policy. You’re matchmaking on company time,” Eli stammered, disbelieving the start to his week. Talk about a fresh day in green hell. “Rosa Mae Perkins is sane compared to the crazies in these hills. This auction is a dog whistle.”

Tobias nodded. “You ain’t never lied.”

“Rosa Mae power walks past the fire station. Might be worth a conversation or two.” Noah winked.

Not-so-clever sexual innuendo metaphors were Noah’s gift.

“You’re stupid.” Eli glared at his youngest brother before shifting his gaze to face off with his mother. “Some of the women in town, their bite is worse than their bark. How do we shut down the portal website thing?”

“You can’t.” Leah beamed. “That’s the genius behind the computer. I have a password. With the cute pictures I chose of you boys, this will succeed. The women, I mean the bidders, place a dollar amount under a bachelor’s name. That’s you three, by the way. They can also donate directly to the fundraiser. If they place the winning bid, they’ll have the pleasure of a romantic dinner with one of my handsome sons and a chance at happily ever after. All the bids are blind. That means you three won’t know the bidders’identity or which of you is earning the most money. It’s a win-win-win. Oh, and your dating profiles are hanging in the post office, too.”

“You meanWANTEDposters,” Tobias groused, pacing the length of the floor, red spreading up from his collar the more he talked.

His momma pulled out the chair closest to her. “Tobias, don’t worry. This is my best dummy-proof, money-making idea ever.”

She practically squealed in delight, while Eli’s blood chilled in his veins. More senior citizens sexting was in his future.

Eli ran a hand through his dense waves, staring at his momma. “Shut down the site. Cancel the ad today. I’ll torch as many of the flyers as I can before the looney tunes start—”

The chime alerting them to someone at the front door ended his tirade. Because he had absolutely no idea what he could say to convince his mother to cease and leave the rescuing to him, he bellowed, “Come in.”

The screen door slammed. Footsteps, small and light, could be heard in the formal living room, before a disembodied feminine voice called out.