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He smiled at her, all sly. “I do.”
“And that is?” He always was such a tease.
“I’m an accountant.”
Oh for the love of God, that was crazy. How had the baddest boy in Revival turned so . . . so . . . good?
It was despicable.
“Yuck!” Her voice filled with scorn. “What happened to you?”
He laughed, not seeming at all insulted. “It’s a respectable job and a necessary skill, even in a small town. It’s why I ended up running for mayor. I started to notice my business clients were suffering. By then most had forgotten my wild ways and were ready for something new. So I threw together a campaign and voila: mayor.”
Darcy wrinkled her nose. “So you’re completely reformed, huh?”
Such a waste.
“Mostly.” He leaned back against the edge of his desk and crossed one ankle over the other. His jeans stretched taut across his muscles, and Darcy tried her best not to get distracted. “And what exactly do you do out there in the big city? Your mom says you’re some sort of writer.”
“I am.” Darcy straightened her shoulders. “I freelance and write a blog.”
He raised a brow, picking up a steaming mug from his desk. “A blog? What kind of blog”
Darcy laid it on him. “A sex one.”
