Falling for the Enemy (Private Pleasures 3)

“Still you, apparently. Details, please. Who? When? Where? How? And most importantly, why? I thought you were on a sex hiatus.”

“Geez, let’s see. Wolverine. Last night. At the salon, after I closed. Given your condition, I think you know how. I’m a little fuzzy on the why part myself other than he’s so damn hot, because I’m not sure I even like the cocky so-and-so. And yes, I think it’s safe to say the sex hiatus ended with a bang. Technically, a series of bangs. More like a fireworks finale.”

“Wow.” Melody’s sky-blue eyes went wide as she absorbed the information. “This is so… I don’t even know where to start. No, wait,” she quickly corrected, “I do. Start with the fireworks finale. Tell me everything. Evvvvrything.”

Ginny didn’t bother holding back a grin. “Those pregnancy hormones are really raging, aren’t they?”

Melody rolled her eyes. “Constantly. You have no idea. Poor Josh practically has to hose me down just to get a food break.”

“Good thing he’s the fire chief. I imagine he’s very proficient with his…hose.”

“Amen. Hallelujah. Sadly, he’s on duty tonight. The only fireworks I can expect for the next twenty-four hours have to come from you. Get to it. What went down, or should I say who?”

“For such an innocent face, you have a very dirty mind. I’m not giving you the blow-by-blow—no pun intended—all I can say is, it was spontaneous and unbelievably hot and—”

“And more than once, right? I believe you promised me multiples.”

“At my workstation, on the reception desk. I’m not even sure what happened under the bonnet dryer. I think I might have lost consciousness around my fourth or fifth orgasm.”

Melody tapered her strides. “Sweet mercy. No wonder you’re running slow today. I’m surprised you can walk.”

“‘Hurts so good’ as the song says.”

“Did you invite him back sometime soon to hurt you some more?”

“No.” She shook her head and fended off the flare of regret her hormones shot toward her brain—the same brain that had abandoned her last night, as soon as Shaun had looked at her with those haunted brown eyes and touched her cheek with unexpected gentleness for such a rough, tough, badass of a guy.

“No? Why no?”

“Last night was a spontaneous, one-time-only type thing. We both agreed.” Right. So why did she sound as if she was trying to convince herself? And worse, why was there a part of her that refused to be convinced? “I have other stuff to focus on. I filed my paperwork and petitions to run for mayor this morning.”

“For real?”

She nodded, feeling a little glow that had nothing to do with working up a sweat in the midday sunshine.

“I’m so proud of you. This town would be lucky to have you as mayor. You care about the community. You have great, workable ideas on how to improve things.” Her friend paused a moment to breathe, and then went on, “So wait. Was running for mayor what inspired your now-doomed sex hiatus?”

“Yes, but it’s not doomed. Admittedly, I got swept away by brooding eyes and a tight ass, and I took one short detour off the straight and narrow, but I’m back on my path.” Yes, you are, Ginny Boca, she silently added when some stupid part of her started to weaken. If she had to avoid the man from here on out to ensure she kept her hands off him, so be it. Or maybe he’ll avoid you? The depressing thought fluttered through her mind like a moth. He seemed to have mastered the art of keeping a low profile.

“There’s a man wandering around town who can give you four or five orgasms in one night and you’re sticking to the sex hiatus? You’re a strong woman.”

If only. “I want to win this election, which means I need to keep my reputation clean. Cleaner than Tom Buchanan’s at any rate,” she added when Melody shot her an are you smoking crack look, “because our esteemed incumbent is the only other candidate. Behaving better than Tom shouldn’t be difficult, considering he could take lessons in fidelity from a stray dog, but the last thing I should do this point in my life is take on a fuck-buddy. Nothing, I mean nothing, stays secret around here long. Why hand Tom the grounds to accuse me of having my head in my pants instead of on the problems and issues of Bluelick?”

“Yeah.” Melody winced at the idea, and then waved to old Ms. Van Hendler taking her afternoon stroll along the path on the opposite end of the square. “I see your point about guarding your rep. The campaign could get ugly. Tom won’t go down without a fight, and the Buchanans have never been afraid to sling a little mud. It’s a family tradition.”

“Exactly. I haven’t spoken to Tom yet, but when I do, I’m going to tell him I hope we can stick to the issues and avoid personal attacks.”

“Nice strategy, but even if he agrees to your face to keep the campaign professional, you might find you’re the only one taking the high road.”

“I’m aware, and I don’t trust him, which is why I don’t intend to hand him a big, dirty mud-ball to fling my way. He’ll need to dig up his own if that’s how he wants to play things. But if he does, he’ll learn pretty quick I’ve got good aim, too.”

She raised her hand and ticked off her list on her fingers. “Infidelity. A nasty divorce. A hasty marriage to a cocktail waitress half his age. And Justin.” She lowered her hand. “Let’s not forget Justin, who is a complete menace, and will likely stay that way as long as Tom continues to misuse the powers of his office to clean up after the spoiled brat.”

“You’ve got that right,” Melody agreed. “Justin is one of the main reasons Josh wants Tom voted out. Tom and Sheriff Butler are buddies, and Tom gets Butler to intercede whenever an investigation seems likely to implicate Justin in some wrongdoing. Josh wholeheartedly supports your idea of taking the money Bluelick pays to contract with the county sheriff’s department and using it to establish our own local police department. One free from the influence of Tom Buchanan.”

Ginny shrugged. “The funds are there. All it takes is a vote from the city council. If I’m elected, I guarantee we’ll put it to a vote. And when I point out each and every way the services we get from the county are substandard, I know they’ll approve letting the contract lapse and earmarking those funds for a local PD.”

“You’ve got my vote,” Melody said as they jogged across Main and turned to run along the sidewalk. “Though I’m sorry your political ambitions are interfering with your personal affairs, so to speak.”