Sparks Fly with Mr. Mayor

by Teresa Carpenter

  As much as the sunsets were one of the things Cole loved most about his home, tonight it had paled in comparison to the woman basking in its glow. How stunning she’d looked bathed in the glorious reds and magenta of the fast-fading sun. Her auburn hair had darkened but was lit up with fiery highlights, the rosy glow of her skin, the sheer wonder in her wide silver eyes.

  He wanted to taste the wine-red of her lips, change the flush in her cheeks to internal heat.

  May as well forget it, though. His campaign committee was pushing for an answer to the debate question. Once Dani heard the proposal, he wasn’t likely to be her favorite person. Probably not even in the top ten.

  For sure she wouldn’t want to be locking lips with him.

  When she started making noises about heading home, he knew he’d delayed as long as possible.

  Trying for a positive tone, he dove into the deep end.

  “How would you like to participate in a debate? Have a chance to get the specifics of your museum/garden plans in front of an audience.”

  Immediately she straightened in her chair. Her shoulders went up and back and excitement lent a spark to her silver eyes.

  “A public debate? That would be great.”

  He literally saw her mind begin to buzz with the possibilities as she pulled her notebook back out of her purse.

  “When? Where?”

  He cleared his throat; this was where things were going to head south. “At the Paradise Pines Small Business League.”

  She deflated before his eyes, stuffed the notebook back in her purse. “The Small Business League? Thanks but no thanks.”

  “It’s a chance to get your issues out there, to be heard by an influential element of the community.”

  “Please, this is the group that had the plans drawn up for the sports complex.” She singed him with a chiding glare, her disappointment clear. “I wouldn’t be heard, I’d be dismissed. And I’ve already had plenty of that without magnifying it times thirty. Is your faction so threatened by mine it can’t entertain the idea of a real debate?”

  “This would be a real debate.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Right. We both know it’s a bone being tossed to the underdogs. You’re hoping we’ll stand down if we feel we’ve been heard. Guess what? We have our own campaign to reach the public. We don’t need your pseudo debate.”

  Legs crossed, arms closed in front of her, she kicked one sandal-shod foot, toes painted the palest of pinks. She studied him as if he were one giant puzzle.

  “If you don’t like politics and you don’t want to win, why are you running? Why agree to the appointment in the first place?”

  “I didn’t agree to the politics, I agreed to help out. Our last mayor died, heart attack. The board fractured, they needed someone to bring them together.”

  “And they chose you?”

  He shrugged. “People like me.”

  “You don’t appear to have been suffering this last year.”

  “I’m a social guy, so the public forum doesn’t bother me. Hard decisions have to be made, that doesn’t bother me either. You gather your information and make the decision.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts, Cole fetched the coffeepot, filled her cup and then his. He rarely revealed his deep thoughts, or talked about his feelings or what motivated him. He preferred to skim the surface. Somehow that wasn’t enough with Dani. Not when she looked at him with those genuine gray eyes. There was nothing false about Dani and she deserved to know what she was getting into.

  “There’s no downtime,” he said, reclaiming his seat next to her. “Whenever, wherever, you’re always on. Everyone has their own agenda and they all want something from you. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, but I prefer they be in the earth when I do.”

  Her eyes narrowed and he fought not to squirm. He swore she saw clear through him to all those places he kept carefully hidden, some even from himself.

  “They all thought they could sway you, get you to do what they wanted,” she guessed.

  It had to be a guess. How did she do that, see so deep into him? It was disconcerting and oddly flattering. She cared or she wouldn’t make the effort.

  “They were wrong.” Still it galled that they’d thought he was so easy.

  “It’s your own fault, you know. If you acted more seriously, they’d take you more seriously.”

  His head reared back as if he’d taken one on the chin—it stung just as bad. “Do you really want to get into shrink talk? You really want to cast some stones?”

  She stiffened at his tone, and her chin shot up.

  “I wasn’t casting stones, I was stating a fact. It bothers you when people dismiss you, but you let them believe you don’t care. You can’t have it both ways.”

  “People see me as I want them to see me. It’s nobody’s business if I keep part of myself private. If you’re serious about this election, you should learn to do the same.”

  “Why? Are you going to reveal me as a fraud? Tell everyone I’m afraid of my own shadow? That I worry over every decision to the point of pain? Are you going to tell them I’m a coward and that I have to force myself to let my daughter out of my sight each day?”

  “Dani,” he whispered. Shocked and concerned, he covered her hand with his.

  “Oh, God.” She stopped her rant, ducking her head to hide her features.

  For a moment silence reigned over the table, their wounds raw and exposed.

  Avoiding his gaze, she reached for her coffee. Inhaling a deep breath, she released it slowly over the steaming brew. “So much for decaf. I could have enjoyed the high-octane stuff.”

  Cole took that to mean she didn’t expect to sleep much after her mini meltdown. The woman needed to give herself a break.

  Before he could say so, she jutted out her stubborn chin again and soldiered on.

  “Go ahead, do your worst,” she challenged. “Because I don’t expect to win. I just want our proposal to get a fair hearing.”

  After a moment, he blinked, all signs of vulnerability disguised by harsh control hidden behind his customary facade. She may see him better than a lot of people, but she didn’t know him, not if she believed he’d throw her to the lions.

  And she didn’t know herself either.

  “You think any of that makes you weak? You lost a husband in a violent act and he became a hero in the eyes of the world. That’s pretty hard to live up to. Everyone’s scared of something, it’s how you handle the fear that defines you. Have you fallen apart? No. You moved your daughter to a new state and started a new business. That takes guts and planning. And being a single parent isn’t easy. I lost my parents when I was eleven. I know what it’s like to feel an emptiness inside you think will never go away. To spend each day wondering what might happen next, and would anyone else be taken from you.”

  “But it’s been two years.” Chewing her bottom lip, she repeated what so many had told her. “I should be over it by now.”

  “There’s no getting over it.” He leaned forward, stared into silver pools of despair. “You just learn to cope, and you’re doing that.”

  “You don’t know.” She bowed her head.

  “What’s to know? You may be scared, but you’re making major decisions. And you’re building a life for yourself and Faith. You’re a fierce mama bear but you don’t project all your worry and fear on Faith. You’re the hero. If anyone can get this town to listen to the museum proposal, it’s you.”

  She slowly lifted her head, her hand a balled fist on the granite counter. The hope in her eyes nearly broke his heart.

  “Do you really believe that? That I’m strong?”

  “I do,” he said easily. “And you better be prepared,” he cautioned. “Because your beauty shop brigade could push you all the way into the mayor’s seat.”

  “That won’t happen.” She shook her head, her rueful tone a clear indication she had her composure back. �
�We both know the museum proposal doesn’t stand a chance. And most of my brigade—as you call them—knows that. But connecting citizens of Paradise Pines through history, tradition and education is important and shouldn’t be dismissed as laughable. We just want respect.”

  “So you’ll agree to the debate, then?”

  “That’s a no.”

  He sighed. “Will you tell your people to start cooking again?”

  “Certainly.” She agreed too easily, all signs of tears gone. “As soon as you’re ready for a real debate.”

  He had given her the keys to his house.

  Dani sighed and shook the thought away. She refused to let the man disrupt her concentration.

  Forcing herself to focus, she smiled at the young mother in her chair and asked what she wanted done today.

  But after she helped her client into a robe and sat her back for a wash and condition, the woman fell silent and Dani’s thoughts began to wander.

  Cole Sullivan was a dangerous man. His charming smile and easygoing attitude hid a man of unrelenting persistence, surprising responsibility and devastating vulnerability capable of sliding through the best of defenses.

  He threatened everything she’d built for herself and Faith here in Paradise Pines. Dani needed to keep her distance and keep her cool.

  Easier said than done when the cosmos and the good citizens of Paradise Pines kept throwing them together. Or so it seemed.

  Just when Dani had convinced herself she had a handle on her emotions, he managed to weaken her resolve with random acts of intimacy. And he always knew exactly what would get to her.

  Like giving her the keys to his home.

  With the christening only three days away she’d already bought new outfits for Faith and herself and had the accessories all planned out. However, much still needed to be done in preparation for the celebration brunch. With the ceremony at ten in the morning, she wanted everything ready the night before so she could concentrate on getting herself and Faith to the church on time.

  Before her client arrived, Dani had just finished a phone call with the caterer, who wanted to view the space today for prep and presentation purposes. And the cleaning service would be out tomorrow. Which left Saturday for delivery of the rental furniture and any decorating she intended to do.

  With the nursery so busy and being tied up in meetings for the upcoming Harvest Fair and Dance, Cole had given her the keys to help organize and supervise the comings and goings. Between running her shop and campaigning with special interest groups, coordinating the party made her life a real juggling act.

  Samantha’s appreciation and excitement made the effort worth it. She’d been so thrilled Cole and Dani were hosting the brunch she’d practically been in tears.

  Shutting off the water, she wrapped the woman’s hair in a lavender towel and led the way back to her station.

  “All right, I’ve had it.” A pretty blonde in a purple velour sweat suit barged through the front door of the shop. “Dani, we have to do something. I’m sick of my husband’s cooking and he hasn’t even noticed the house going to dust.”

  “I know.” A brunette swiveled in her stylist’s seat to chime in. “I can barely stand my place and all my husband does is rave about how happy he is I’ve stopped vacuuming during his games.”

  “Well, we’ve had some success with our presentations at the Senior Center, the Knitting Guild and the Golf and Reel Club.” Dani tried to offset the obvious frustration. “Plus we have school meetings set at the elementary and middle schools. I don’t think we need to continue—”

  “Oh, yes, we do. If you’re going to say we can stop the home campaign, forget it,” a third voice broke in with her opinion. “This is personal for me, I want my husband to acknowledge my right to vote as I please.”

  “And we’re not getting any public support either. Their offer of a debate was a mediocre attempt to allay our right to a public forum.”

  At that point everyone began to speak at once, talking about their personal experiences and complaining about lack of appreciation from their significant others.

  Dani focused on the woman in her chair, giving her concentration to the cut. She knew the fight at home was important to these women, but she couldn’t connect with them on that level and she wondered if they weren’t taking things too far.

  A few minutes later, Mrs. Day, Lydia and Gram came through the door. Good. Dani appreciated the help. Strategies began flying, but it soon became clear what the next step needed to be.

  “No sex,” Gram stated baldly. “You want a man’s attention, sex is the answer.”

  A resounding silence fell over the room. Even the snip of scissors ceased as Gram voiced what had been on everyone’s mind but nobody had wanted to be the first to say.

  “That would get my husband’s attention.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “You don’t think that’s too extreme?” Mrs. Day fussed. “It seems to me these lessons in listening are costing us women more than the men.”

  All eyes turned to the gray-haired woman. She shrugged, an unrepentant twinkle in her eyes. “A woman has needs.”

  Heads bobbed in agreement.

  Dani carefully set her curling iron aside and moved into the middle of the room.

  “I don’t currently have a man in my life.” She obstinately pushed aside the picture of Cole that flashed before her mind’s eye. “So I can’t make the decision. Plus, we’ll have to get the agreement of the others in the ‘Make Them Listen’ campaign, but it starts here, with you. Is this a step we want to take?”

  Silence descended again as the women looked from one to the next. Slowly heads began to bob.

  “Sacrifice is necessary in any war,” Mrs. Day conceded.

  “We have to.” The blonde spoke for the group. “It’s a matter of principle.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  COLE TOSSED his jacket over a chair back and, when he didn’t see Dani in the house, wandered out to the deck. Deep violet silhouetted the horizon, the last dramatic skyscape of the sinking sun.

  He found Dani dozing in a lounger as if she’d fallen asleep watching the brilliant sunset. Like a bee to pollen, he was drawn to her presence. Curled on her side, she had one hand tucked under her cheek, and her lustrous hair covered her shoulder like a fiery cloak. Light from the living room fell over her in a golden glow.

  God, it felt good to come home to a welcoming light and a beautiful woman. Warmth bloomed from the center of his chest and spread outward. Looking at her made his heart swell.

  This week had been both exhilarating and a nightmare. He’d been so busy he wanted nothing more than to lie down beside her and sleep for the next twelve hours. But working with her on the party, having someone to help, someone with brains, humor, creativity and an indomitable spirit had helped tremendously. They’d made a great team and pulled off a difficult week with remarkable results.

  She was so hard on herself. She didn’t see the brave, talented, together woman he did. She worried over being too careful, struggled over her decisions. So what? It meant she cared; it meant Faith was getting the proper attention and Dani’s shop was flourishing.

  Life was tough, but she was handling it. And looking down at the dark smudge of her lashes on creamy smooth skin, he wanted nothing more than to make it easier for her.

  Not that she’d let him. Obstinate should be her middle name.

  Unable to resist, he sat next to her, leaned forward and softly kissed her cheek to wake her up.

  “Hmm.” She shifted, opened sleepy eyes, closed them again and snuggled into the hand cupping her cheek.

  “Hey, beautiful, how you doing?”

  Her whole body rose and settled in a sigh. “Tired.”

  “I can see that.” He used his free hand to gently tuck her hair behind one delicate ear. “The place looks great.”

  “Yes,” she responded without opening her eyes.

  “They took care of you at the nursery? You got everything y
ou wanted?”

  “Yes.”

  Her breathy answers changed what he felt, from emotional warmth to physical heat. He leaned closer so his words moved the hair at her temples. She smelled divine, like sunshine, jasmine and woman.

  “You have everything you need for you and Faith for the morning?”

  Another body sigh. “Yes.”

  He nearly groaned at the feel of his arm cushioned between the softness of her breasts. She was so sweet, so luscious, so accommodating he couldn’t help himself.

  “You want to take this upstairs where we can be more comfortable?”

  Her eyes flew open and for just a second he saw raw desire in the mystical depths. He was too close to miss it, too attentive to misread the stark longing for anything but the true passion it was.

  “No.” In a blink the attraction disappeared, her customary caution falling into place.

  “Then we’ll stay here.” Not willing to lose the moment, he claimed her mouth, drawing the desire back to the surface. She melted against him, sinking into the kiss.

  When her mouth opened under his, he groaned. She tasted better than she smelled, oh so sweet. Wanting more, he deepened the embrace, pulling her closer and inviting her to open to the demanding heat of his tongue.

  With a soft moan she retreated. Licking her lips, she lifted his hand from her curves to her mouth, where she bit the pad of his thumb harder than she needed to.

  “Ouch.” He grimaced, but the bite only ignited his fire more. Rather than pull away, he traced her lips with his damp thumb.

  “You’re a wicked, wicked man, Cole Sullivan,” she stated, her voice husky from sleep and passion.

  “Why,” he challenged with a smile, “because I want to do wicked things to your lovely body?”

  “Yes.” Breathy. “I mean no. Wait…yes.” She shook her finger at him and then pushed him away. “Wicked. I have to get home. What time is it?”

  “Just after seven.” He rose and helped her to her feet. “You’re running scared,” he tossed out, teasing, but serious, too.

  “Pretty much,” she agreed, making no attempt to hide the fact. She bent and lifted some rolled-up papers that had fallen to the ground.