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Jo, of course, suggested I should go ahead and flash him.
God, he was handsome. A good, old-fashioned Texan boy with manners dusted by that grit that touched everything within state lines. We didn’t have the refined charm of the South. We were Texans, hereditary survivors, genetically predisposed to dogged determination. Evan looked every bit the part, with his rugged jaw and friendly smile, cocked a little sideways. Strong nose, dusty-blond hair, sun-kissed skin. Shoulders that could raise a barn and arms that could keep a girl safe. Lips I was certain could deliver me from evil and break any lingering curses.
I just needed to figure out how to get him to put them on me and I’d be all set.
“I couldn’t dig up anything that would bar Duke from running,” Evan continued, Duke’s name pulling me from my reverie. “There are a bunch of ancient clauses, one stating the candidate must be born and raised in Lindenbach. Nobody fits that criteria exactly—we were all born in San Antonio or in a car on the way there.”
Grant chuffed a laugh. “Y’all are so small town, I can’t even handle it.”
Jo’s face went soft, her mouth a little O when she gasped. “You said y’all.”
He made a face. “Did I? No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.” Jo grinned and kissed his cheek.
By Grant’s expression, he was suffering an existential crisis.
Evan chuckled, flipping through his legal pad. “There’s nothing in here that would stop him. I’m afraid the only option is to start planning how you’re going to put up a fight.”
Silence fell over the table.
“Well,” Jo started, “in the way of negative qualities, Duke has plenty to choose from. The easiest: is he still one of us after years at Harvard and working in DC? Forgot his roots and all that.”
“I came from DC,” Grant noted. “I wasn’t one of you when I got here, but I proved to y’all”—he met Jo’s eyes at the emphasis—“that I was worthy. If he’s smart, he’ll do the same.”
“Then let’s hope he’s not smart,” Jo said. “Anyway, I don’t know how well it would even work. You were a stranger to us. We know Duke. Or used to.” Her finger tapped the tabletop absently. “Painting him as corrupt would be easy enough. Point out that he’s nothing but an out-of-touch politician who left us behind, coming back only to use us. It has to be why he’s here. He can’t actually want to be the mayor of Lindenbach after disappearing for more than a decade.”
“I have a lot of ammunition for that argument,” I said. “Can I compete with him, though?”
“If anyone can, it’s you,” Evan answered with a smile. “Your family is a pillar of this town and has been for five generations. You fight for Lindenbach every day and have been at the forefront of every battle of late. The town respects you, Poppy, even if they don’t like you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Am I wrong?” he challenged.
I sighed. “I don’t know. I guess not?”
“Your answer was a question,” he said.
“Well,” I huffed, “I’m no politician. An activist, maybe, but a politician? I hate everything they stand for.”
“Which is why you’re perfect for the job,” he pointed out. “Duke stands for everything Lindenbach hates. Elitists. Big city know-it-alls. People with ambitions above our town, our people. You’re the best candidate for mayor we’ve seen for seventy years. If you don’t believe anything else I say, believe that.”
My cheeks flushed, and I glanced down at the remains of my breakfast, humbled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t give up. All right?”
“All right.”
When I looked up, Jo and Grant were watching us with knowing smiles on their faces, and I resisted the urge to kick them both in the shins.
Evan looked back at his notes. “Jo, you’ve got one of the barns up and running for the campaign, right?” When she nodded, he continued. “Good. We do need to talk about fundraisers. I’m betting Duke will outspend us from every direction…”
He was still talking, but once again, I wasn’t listening. Though this time it had nothing to do with Evan’s jawline or smile.
The bell over the door caught my attention, but Duke hijacked it completely.
My heart twisted and lurched, a shot of heat flaming through me at the sight of him striding in with absolute confidence. An earthquake couldn’t stop him, his purpose too great, telegraphed in every step he took. He drew every molecule of air into him with quiet ferocity, locking my lungs as it disappeared.
His face turned toward me, his gaze catching mine and holding it hostage. And I saw what maybe no one else did—a flickering pause, a crack in his mask, the unsaid hanging between us.
It was gone as soon as I saw it, and with a practiced smile, he let go of the air so I could breathe again.
