“It’s been a fantastic weekend.”
More claps and cheers ring out. I see my dad and my aunt near the front, their faces beaming with pride.
“I want to thank the people who made this event possible—my team, our vendors, volunteers, sponsors, our musical guests.” That earns whistles. “And of course, all of you who braved the heat to come out and support this event. It’s a testament to how much we love Bayside and how strongly we stand behind local business and local talent.”
Applause ripples through the crowd again.
“Now, please join me in welcoming Mayor Gabriel Diablo to the stage.”
He takes the mic with a bright smile as I move aside.
“Thank you, Rayne.” He faces the audience. “Local support continues to be my mandate. I value this town and the way events like this bring us all together.”
“What about our waterfront?” someone shouts.
“I’m glad you asked,” he says, the consummate politician. “We intend to keep it a place all of us can enjoy—now and for generations to come. I believe our revised expansion plan combines the best of the new and the old. I look forward to sharing it with you in the weeks ahead. But for today, I’d like to thank Rayne and her team for pulling off an incredible event. And Bayside for showing up strong.” He lifts a fist in the air, then hands the mic back to me.
“Thank you, Mayor Diablo.”
The sun hangs low over the water, the crowd larger than I ever expected when we started planning this months ago.
“The Annual Summer Festival celebrates community. That’s always been our point of pride.”
The crowd cheers in agreement.
“I believe in Bayside and its future,” I continue with a smile. “Thank you all. Stay safe, stay hydrated—and…” I add not-so-subtly. “I’ll catch you around town.”
Dad and Aunt Belinda reach me first with hugs and congratulations. I answer a few questions from reporters and accept thanks from residents and locals stopping by to shake my hand.
As the people disperse, my gaze sweeps the waterfront.Vendors dismantling booths. Camera crews packing up. No sign of Hollis. My breath eases out. He got what he came for, and now he’s gone.
I glance toward Diablo’s camp. He’s with his family. DK stands near the stage in khaki shorts and a polo. A shiver moves through me. Like a silent call, his gaze lifts, finding mine behind his glasses. It’s a look that recognizes every curve Hollis tried toinsult—a look that makes me feel desired and treasured at once. It snaps between us like an invisible band stretched tight across the sand, and for a second, the crowd disappears. There’s just the heat of the sun and the memory of his hands.
Anika says something about my television appearance on Wednesday, pulling me back to campaign business?—
even as part of me stays with DK.
Chapter Twenty-Two
DK
At 11:50 a.m., I’m already in the green room, leaning against a wall. Decaf in hand. A table is set up with pastries, and monitors display a live feed of the current segment featuring a community theater group. I’m not really paying attention to any of it.
I’d gotten here early to see Luna. She’s scheduled to be onThe BaysideBrief—a local news program—followed by Diablo.
We’ve been talking every night this week. After our days are done, I settle into bed and call. Lights out, her soft voice on my pillow. Sometimes that’s enough to sleep. Other times, I still need something to drag me over the line. It’s frustrating when my mind won’t let go.
But those phone dates are the highlight of my days. I know she won’t eat raisins because they look like bugs. She takes extra avocado on just about everything. She finds red wine intimidating. She loves shoes and owns more than twenty pairs. She rarely loses her temper… but when she does, it comes in hot.
Little details that fill in the picture of the woman I’m falling hard for.
Voices sound out in the hall. I recognize hers just by the rapid beat of my pulse. Luna appears in the doorway. She looks like hot, sexy power. Six-inch heels. Marine blue suit—a color that works for the cameras and conveys trust. But I’m not thinking like a strategist when my gaze tracks her round hips and lush thighs. I’m fucking jealous of that v-neck top hugging her breasts so intimately, pushing up just a hint of soft cleavage. Appropriate for the average viewer, wrecking for me.
Her hair is slicked back in a professional bun, but she keeps it from being too formal with a single swoop curling playfully along her cheek. Her face is powdered for the camera. It’s more makeup than she usually wears, but with a face like that, they could have added a clown nose, and it wouldn’t detract from her beauty one bit.
“Steve will come get you in five,” the production assistant says, leaving her at the door.
“Thank you.” Her gaze slides to me as she steps deeper into the room when it’s just us. “Hi.”
