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Her mouth twisted into a self-conscious smile. “If you haven’t figured out by now, I’m not one to shut up, so…”
“So, you’re the bimbo running for mayor.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that’s me. I like to think Grandma wouldn’t put it quite that way.”
“I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”
Ginny glowed. “Just for that, I’m going to give you dinner.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, and the pure affection in the gesture caught him by surprise. His body’s reaction was significantly less surprising, but before he could catch her around the waist and pull her down on top of him, she bounced off the sofa. “Come on into the kitchen. Everything’s ready.”
Before dinner went on the table, he had some cards to put there first. He stood and snagged a couple fingers into the back pocket of her jeans, stopping her in mid-stride. She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
“I may not be pursuing many at the moment, but I know what goals are. I understand why running for mayor is important to you. I realize this”—he pointed to both of them—“is complicated, and risky, and a really bad idea, but we both know it’s going to keep happening. For some reason, right now, we both need this in our lives. I can’t explain why, but I can tell you one thing. Uncle Sam trusted me with all kinds of delicate situations, and you can, too. I know how to be discreet. I’m trained for stealth.” Time for the hard sell, because this mattered. Apparently he did have a goal, after all. “I can get you off like a personal toy all night, every night, and nobody in town will be the wiser.”
Big green eyes found his and held. “I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Eleven
Do I snore? Hog the covers? What?
Ginny scowled at the useless questions circling around in her head as she followed Melody out of the pew and into the line of congregants waiting to file past Reverend Carlson. He stood at the open doorway of Bluelick Baptist, wishing his flock a final farewell as they exited into the sunny Sunday morning.
“I can’t believe you were late for church,” Melody muttered. “Shameful.”
Ginny silently agreed, especially since she had no excuse for lingering in bed this morning, considering she’d woken up alone. Again. For the last week Shaun had shown up on her doorstep after sundown, sometimes with dinner in hand, sometimes just a hungry look in his eyes, and proceeded to rock her world in whatever way he saw fit.
She liked to think she gave as good as she got, and she certainly hadn’t heard any complaints out of him, but she hadn’t inspired him to spend the night either. The fact that she wanted him to aggravated her all the more, and explained why she’d feigned sleep last night when he’d slid out of her bed and dressed in the dark. It had been on the tip of her tongue to call him out on his disappearing act, but then he’d leaned down and brushed a whisper-soft, unbearably tender kiss on her forehead, and she’d kept her eyes shut and let him have his easy exit before she said something stupid like, “Don’t go.”
Because he needed to go, dang it. How could she convince the entire town it was time to get out from under Buchanan’s political agenda if people discovered she couldn’t get out from under her opponent’s oldest son?
“Tom was on time.” Melody nodded to the exit, where Tom stood between Justin and Brandi, shaking hands with Reverend Carlson. Ginny automatically searched for Shaun, even though she knew better. If he’d decided to take in the service, she’d have sensed his dark eyes on her from the back of the church, but he wasn’t the type to loiter on the front steps, chatting with the reverend. Unlike Tom.
“Bet he’s got a pocketful of talking points, too,” she muttered.
“That’s a safe bet,” Melody agreed. “Are you ready for a church-front debate?”
“Of course. I’ll be the embodiment of tact and diplomacy.” She winked at her friend, but said a silent prayer as she approached the exit.
Reverend Carlson smiled at her and took her hand. “Ah, here she is—our other candidate for mayor.”
At least he hadn’t said, “Speak of the devil.” She returned his smile, and expanded it to include Tom, who smiled back like a shark, and Brandi, who was absorbed in touching up her makeup, and Justin, who stared at her as if he could see through her clothes. Joy.
A cluster of the faithful gathered around, because hey, everybody loved a show.
“I enjoyed the sermon, reverend. It really spoke to me, especially your observation that the church, like society as a whole, thrives on new ideas, and should strive not to become entrenched in the status quo.” Of course he’d said it in the context of helping the stodgy, old ways-and-means committee figure out how to raise funds for new hymnals, because nobody needed another all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast or spaghetti dinner, but still.
“Really, Ginny.” Tom’s smile widened to the point she could count his teeth. “The reverend’s sermon covered many themes. I think his underlying message had something to do with the importance of supporting our leaders—the ones with the education and experience to vet ideas and execute on the ones with merit. A lesson with broader application, don’t you agree?”
So much for tact and diplomacy. “Gee Tom, are you suggesting I lack the education and experience to lead?”
“Why Ginny, you’re putting words in my mouth, but as long as we’re looking at credentials, I invite voters to consider whether they want to entrust the highest office in Bluelick to a hairdresser with a high school education.”
“Maybe doing hair isn’t rocket science, but we don’t need a rocket scientist, we need someone who understands the challenges our town faces and knows how people would like those challenges addressed. Because I own and operate a customer-facing local business—one where people settle in and talk for a spell—I listen to people’s opinions, worries, and issues all day long. I hear what’s working and what needs fixing. I know what’s important to the community, so I consider my job an asset.”
A few murmurs of approval came from the small crowd surrounding them. She spotted Mrs. Carter, her high school English teacher, standing to one side, nodding encouragingly. “As far as my education, I graduated with honors from the Bluelick public school system. If our schools aren’t good enough to produce our leaders, then I suggest the experienced, established politicians have some explaining to do, for letting our community settle for sub-par educational institutions.”
Her comment—okay, accusation—generated applause, and Tom actually looked a bit flustered. “I’m not suggesting our school system is sub-par. My son goes there, for God’s sake.” He pointed at Justin. “But politics can be very nuanced, and complicated. Someone with more extensive education is better positioned to manage all the intricacies, and has strategic advantages when it comes to negotiating.”
The reply garnered Tom some supportive comments. She didn’t have a college diploma. He had her there, but… “Tell me Tom, what’s your degree? The one that helps you understand all the nuances, complications, and intricacies of politics?
