Merry and Bright(52)

A slow shake of his head. “I can assure you, I don’t frequent the women’s bathroom.”

She didn’t believe him, of course, but his denial did mean that she had to take full responsibility for her own stupidity. Damn, she hated that. Sighing, she rubbed her temples. “Okay, fine. You’re being discreet. I get it. I’m sorry about your headlight. I’ll have it fixed. Just let me get my insurance information—” She turned toward her car, but he took her arm and pulled her back around.

He was always doing that—that being whatever he wanted. In fact, she figured if she looked up “alpha male” in the dictionary, she’d find his picture there.

“You’re looking like a Popsicle,” he said. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

Unexpected decency. That, too, made her self-righteousness difficult to maintain. She wished he’d be an ass about this, but even she had to admit that while Matt defined stubbornness and mule-headedness, he also possessed integrity in spades. She’d seen it in action, when he ran town meetings, maintaining the voice of reason, even if it had a sarcastic edge.

She also knew him to be wild, daring, and a complete rebel at heart. So much so that no woman had ever tamed him.

Cami had never even considered trying, especially since she was too competitive to give him the upper hand, in or out of bed.

After all, he was unlike any man she’d ever been with, or wanted to be with—not that she had much to go on. He was just a little uncivilized, just a little politically incorrect. Not afraid of a battle.

And she so wanted to say not decent.

But he was still holding onto her arm, guiding her off the icy asphalt and into her car.

“Matt?” The female voice came from the pretty blonde sticking her head out of the passenger side of his car. “What’s taking so long?”

Cami rolled her eyes and muttered beneath her breath to Matt. “Probably you should have stayed in the women’s bathroom.”

“Her car wouldn’t start. I’m giving her a ride home.”

“And don’t forget the ride in the bathroom.”

“I wasn’t in the bath—”

“Whatever.” She tried to pull her door shut, but his big body was in the way.

“Are you going to be careful?” he asked.

“Move, or lose a body part.”

“Just don’t hit reverse until I get out of your way,” he said with a smirk, wisely stepping out of her way just as she slammed the door.





2


Matt’s evening could be going better. He could be at his brother’s house nursing a beer and a pizza while watching the Lakers game.

Instead, he had to forgo his favorite evening wear—jeans—for a tux. In less than half an hour, he was going to be standing around, smiling at ridiculous small talk about the weather, eating tiny little hors d’oeuvres of questionable origin that never filled him up, all while being scrutinized by every single guest there, even by people who’d known him for years.

This was because he had a big old bull’s-eye on his back, courtesy of getting the mayoral position unelected.

Never mind that there had been a city hall vote that he’d won by a vast majority. Never mind that he’d never done anything but great things for the town of Blue Eagle. Never mind that he was exactly where he wanted to be—for now—when it came to work.

Until he figured out who the hell was messing with the town’s reputation, there would be rumors and doubts and questions. Frustrated over that, he left his house. Still snowing, which meant good skiing this weekend. The roads would be icy. Not so good. He got into his car and headed back to Town Hall for the ball. His starched shirt scratched him every time he so much as leaned forward to adjust the radio. His shoes were making his feet unhappy campers.

And a mile from his house, the rest of his headlight fell out. Nice, and yet the irritation faded as he remembered what Cami’s face had looked like when she’d realized she’d hit his car.

Frazzled.

The thought made him grin because Cami frazzled was an amusing sight. A sexy one, too. It was her eyes, so brave, so huge and expressive, that made him inexplicably hungry, and not just for melting chocolate.

But more than just her eyes got to him. She had one of those bodies that women complained about and men loved, curvy and lush despite the yoga she did with her team for relaxation—useless in her case because she was incapable of relaxing, he’d discovered.

In fact, it was the office joke—she was so tightly wound, she squeaked when she walked.

Most men would be put off by that, and given her dating record, they had been put off but good. But he had a feeling that beneath all the organization and planning and general analness beat a wildly passionate heart. He saw it when she was lost in a project at work, when she stood in front of the council and argued for that project with all her might. How many times had she made it her personal goal to pit herself against him for any of a million reasons?

And each and every time, the air between them had crackled like lightning.

The truth was, whether she admitted it out loud or not, they’d been dancing around the sexual issue for two years. She was an amazing opponent, sharp and intelligent, ruthless, with a single line of focus that he’d seen in only one other person.

Himself.