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But she’d spent too many years toiling under Patilla the Hun not to master how to outmaneuver a mini-tyrant with delusions of world domination. She just had to walk in there like she had brass balls the size of a small man’s ego and brazen her way through his objections–no matter how much she wanted to throw up right now. Failure wasn’t an option.
Pushing back her shoulders and raising her chin, she shoved open the door, accidentally slamming it into Tyrell and sending the rotund man stumbling forward and into Logan.
Tyrell collided with Logan like a bowling ball shot out of a rocket, the unexpected collision knocking the air out of Logan’s lungs and pushing him back three feet. Fighting to maintain his balance, he pushed forward against the mayor and placed a hand on each of the shorter man’s shoulders. Over his head, he spotted Miranda staring in the doorway, her blue eyes as round as basketballs and one hand covering that luscious mouth of hers.
“Oh, my God, are you okay?” Her eyes had grown to dinner plate dimensions. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was standing there.”
Tyrell harumphed and shook off Logan’s steadying grip.
Logan didn’t care. His attention stayed riveted on Miranda. The smooth material of her deep purple dress clung to all the right spots, highlighting the curves he’d spent hours tasting last night. He’d licked powdered sugar off her dusky pink nipples and the dimples above her pert ass while she shivered beneath him. When she had moaned his name while he was balls-deep inside her, he’d come as close to heaven as he was bound to get.
“What are you doing here?” Tyrell puffed himself up to his full height of five feet, eight inches. “You don’t have anything flammable you’re planning to ignite, do you?”
A dozen expressions flashed across her face, but the one that surprised him the most was hurt. He’d heard people talk smack about the Sweets for most of his life, but he’d never seen the impact of an on-target hit until now. The sight made him want to tear a strip off of Tyrell’s fat hide. With a quick pivot, he placed himself between Miranda and the man determined to ruin her.
To her credit, Miranda’s fake smile only wavered for a minute before she pulled it back into place, sidestepped around him, and placed herself directly in front of Tyrell. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Red blotches had bloomed across the base of his throat. “Nothing to talk about.
Logan’s hands fisted at his sides, but he squashed the impulse to punch the older man in the nose. “You could at least hear what she has to say.”
“What do you care what she has to say? She’s a Sweet. You know they’re all liars and layabouts.”
“That’s not true.” Miranda’s tone remained calm, despite the fact that her spine had gone rigid and her left eye had begun to twitch.
Tyrell ignored her and continued his diatribe. “You’ve said it yourself, Logan, this town would be a hell of a lot better without the Sweet family. And you were right.”
Miranda let out a gasp, and she retreated a step back.
“All I need is five minutes of your time.” Miranda pushed forward. “I have a proposal that would be very beneficial for the people of Hamilton County.”
How she managed to stay so calm, he had no idea, because the only thing he could think about was how easy it would be to crack an elbow against the side of Tyrell’s head.
“What do you have to lose by listening?” he asked.
“Five minutes of my life that I’ll never get back,” the mayor grumbled. His beady-eyed gaze flicked from Logan to Miranda and back again. “Anyway, why do you care?”
“He doesn’t.” The steel in her tone left no room for questions.
She was speaking to Tyrell, but Logan knew the words were meant for him. As a town, Salvation had bullied her, dismissed her, and mocked her. And for too long, he’d been a part of that bloodthirsty mob. But instead of hating him for it, she was trying to protect him from becoming a target. The idea shamed, humbled, and enraged him. He had no idea what to do with any of those emotions.
He reached out for her, but she pulled back to avoid his touch. “Miranda—”
“What exactly is going on between you two?”
This time she did look at him. The silent plea in her blue eyes ripped the bones from his body.
“Nothing.” Logan ground out the single, awful lie.
“I don’t know.” Tyrell rubbed his hands together. “I think the folks down at The Kitchen Sink might see it a little differently after I tell them about this afternoon.”
She flinched. “Look, the last thing in the world I want is to have the whole town gossiping about me.”
“I have an easy solution for that.” Tyrell paused “Leave town.”
Rage—deep, dark, and ugly—flooded his veins, and Logan fisted Tyrell’s suit jacket lapels before the mayor could blink. He jerked the other man to his tiptoes, ready to slam him into the government-building-issued tan wall. “That’s enough, Tyrell.”
The mayor narrowed his eyes. “Have you forgotten our little discussion the other night? I’m too busy of a man to make idle threats. You best remember that, son.”
