Page 1 of The Celebrity Bidder

Chapter 1

Wylie

Itakethegravelturnoff slower than usual, tires crunching beneath me as I ease my SUV up the winding drive. The hand-painted sign reads Fielding Rescue & Rehab with a pawprint in the middle. There's something charming about it—homemade but not careless. Like whoever made it gave a damn.

Which is rare in my world.

I park out of sight from the road, out of instinct more than anything else. I’m not expecting paparazzi way out here in Hawks Roost, but old habits die hard.And fame doesn’t come with an off switch.

The front porch light glows warm against the early evening fog rolling in. The building is a converted farmhouse, white paint fading just right to make it picturesque. I knock once, but before my knuckles can land again, the door swings open.

She’s barefoot.

That’s the first thing I notice.

Then my eyes meet hers, and my breath catches in my throat. Her eyes are wide, warm, and the color of honey in sunlight. Her hair’s twisted into a messy knot at the top of her head, and there’s not a stitch of makeup on her face.

She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen all year—and I just finished filming opposite an international supermodel.

“Wylie Cole,” she says, a lopsided smile tugging at her mouth. “You’re late.”

I blink, caught off guard. I’ve heard my name said by countless people over the years, and often by drop-dead gorgeous women. But there’s something aboutthiswoman. I want to hear her say my name again and again.

Not wanting to disappoint her, I scramble for an excuse to explain my tardiness. “Traffic.”

She arches a brow. “We’re in the mountains.”

“And yet, somehow, still traffic.”Jesus. I sound like a blithering idiot.

She laughs. “Well, I’m Bella Fielding. Come on in.”

She leads me through a cozy entryway that smells like cedarwood and dog shampoo. The floors are scuffed in a way that says they’ve survived claws and muddy paws and a lot of love. A few dogs bark in the back rooms—a friendly, welcoming sound.

“You said you were looking for a companion. Good with travel, but not too high-maintenance. An energetic dog that can hike but also chill enough to hang out at craft services?”

“Yep,” I say, suddenly nervous. I’ve wanted to adopt a dog for ages, and now that I’m living in Hawks Roost, the time feels right.

“I had to Google what ‘craft services’ means, but I think I’ve got the perfect pet for you.” She pauses by a room with a half-door and gestures inside. “Meet Scout.”

The dog is medium-sized, lean and muscular, with a brindle coat and one blue eye. An Australian Shepherd mix. He looks up at me, his eyes curious.

“Hi, Scout,” I say, squatting down.

He trots over and puts his paw on my knee.

I’m done for.

“He was rescued from a hoarding situation,” Bella says softly. “Took him a while to trust people, but he’s got a good heart. Likes being outdoors. Rides well in a car. He’s picky about who he likes, but—”

Scout noses into my palm and licks it once, then sits beside me like he’s claimed me.

“Well, damn,” Bella murmurs. “Guess he picked you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” I pet Scout gently.

I glance back at Bella, and once again, my breath is knocked out of me at the sight of her.Is it possible I’ve found the perfect dog and the perfect woman for me at the same time?

As I open my mouth to ask her on a date, she lifts her hand, brushing hair behind her ear. That’s when I see it: the engagement ring. The diamond sparkles under the light.

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