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At least at the moment.
At least anything that was appropriate.
three
This wasthe worst idea he’d ever had.
And that included the time when he and Zander were ten and had found two mountain lion cubs, taken them home, and kept them in Theo’s closet for four weeks.
A couple of wild cats had nothing on Savannah Lee.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Zander Landry, Theo’s best friend, asked with a laugh as he lounged against his police car, sipping from a cardboard cup from Bad Habit, the coffee shop in the next town.
They’d already covered this. This morning. And at lunch. Theo had no idea what he’d been thinking. He’d gone to that city council meeting completely planning, and expecting, to shoot Savannah Lee’s idea down, have the council agree, walk out, and be home in time to watch some baseball before heading to bed.
He’d had every argument on his side. The council members were on his side. He’d seen it in their eyes.
But fuck…
He’d turned around.
That’s all he could figure out.
He’d made the mistake of turning around, and that had allowed him to look at her long blonde hair and those eyes that reminded him of the sky on a cloudless summer day. And, worst of all, she’d been wearing that damned skirt and those heels.
He didn’t deal with women in skirts and heels in his usual, everyday life, so he always noticed them when he came across them. They were like funnel clouds. And black bears. Dangerous. But important to take note of.
The women he ran into on the bayou when he was working were there fishing, hunting, and camping. The women he workedwithcertainly didn’t wear skirts or heels. They needed boots and pants that covered their legs fully and didn’t rip easily to withstand tromping through high grass and weeds, climbing over rocks and logs, and during encounters with wildlife.
His mother didn’t wear skirts or heels.
Most of the women in Autre that he saw regularly—the women at Ellie’s bar, the ones who worked at the animal park, the ones who worked at the swamp boat tour company—didn’t wear skirts and heels. If they put on a dress once in a while, it sure as hell wasn’t a fitted pencil skirt with three-inch heels that would have been perfect for a corporate board room in a high rise in New York City, that was for damned sure.
None of the women on the city council had been wearing skirts or heels.
So, his only explanation was that Savannah’s skirt and heels had distracted him.
Or, more specifically, Savannah Lee’s trim hips and tight ass inside that black skirt, which hit above her knees and showed off her long smooth legs, and her dainty feet with the toenails painted bright look-at-me pink and wrapped in the straps of those black heels, had distracted him.
For a lot of guys, that all would have been a flashing neon sign that saidCity Girl, stay away!But for Theo, it was like a lit-up candy store sign that read:All your favorite things inside!
Thankfully, he’d been able to remember that finding Savannah’s skirt and heels on his bedroom floor the next morning was a horrible idea.
It helped that she’d spoken again.
Would a sleepover with her be fun? Oh yeah. For manysleeplesshours.
And then it would be terrible.
Because Savannah Lee was everything he’d tried before, and that had blown up in his face.
And then some.
Savannah made Kelsey look like a sweet small-town girl who could identify four types of Louisiana native birds just by their calls.
Incidentally, Kelsey couldnotdo that. And she’d laugh her city-girl ass off if he even suggested such a thing.
But Savannah Lee was…somuch more his type than Kelsey had been.
