The awkward silence stretched as Havana avoided his gaze, so Caleb did the only gentlemanly thing he could think of—poked the bull. “I hope you practiced your speech. I’m feeling particularly chatty today, so you’ll need your A game.”
Fire flashed through her blue eyes, heating them up nicely as she forgot about her embarrassment, exactly as he’d intended.
“I’ve always got my A game. I hope you’re in the mood to lose.”
He hid a smile and crossed his arms, leaning against the corner booth where he’d eaten dinner every evening this week as he prepped for his losing campaign speech that he’d planned to give tonight. “I’m in some kind of mood all right.”
She tossed her head, not bothering to hide her own smug smile. “I’ll try not to mop the floor with you too much.”
“Appreciate it.”
Dang if he didn’t really like her spirit. Tame, quiet women did not float his boat. At all.
Serenity, who had appointed herself “in charge” of the mayoral race, clapped her hands as she mounted the plywood platform where the candidates would give their speeches. She’d taken on her role as volunteer election coordinator seriously, rallying all the townsfolk with personal visits to their homesteads in order to ensure they had a good turnout for the speeches.
Caleb had grudgingly tagged along to a few of the rounds to meet people, at Serenity’s insistence. To give him an edge, she said. He didn’t want an edge, but neither did he want to hurt her feelings since she’d been the one to come up with this election in the first place.
Besides, this was step one to getting his pen pal what she wanted. As soon as Havana won this election, things would start to fall into place.
“Thanks for coming everyone!” Serenity called out, and the crowd quieted down.
From his vantage point near the dais, he could see the mix of folks who’d chosen this as their Friday night entertainment, which was most of them. He recognized the stocky man in his sixties who’d taken the center spot right in front of the stage—Keith Moon, also known as the owner of Darling the Dorito thief, a story that had become something of a tall tale in its short existence, as Caleb had learned when Serenity took him out to the Moon farm yesterday.
He’d also learned that Farmer Moon had a huge crush on Serenity, which she refused to even discuss. The widower had tried to engage her several times during their visit, but she was having none of it, blushing behind the fall of gray hair that did little to hide her discomfort.
It was cute, actually.
Toward the back, Lennie Ford, the giant, tattooed antique dealer, held hands with the tiny Mavis J, artfully doing what Havana and her fiancé could not, namely conveying that they were a couple. They were obviously very used to being around each other in public as well as in private. Granted the older couple had their own bits of awkwardness given the huge discrepancy in their sizes, but they made it work.
That was cute too.
Havana’s fiancé had melted away toward the rear of the room, opting to watch from afar apparently instead of giving Havana the support of his physical presence. Caleb’s team crowded up right next to him, shoulder to shoulder, the way they’d been since their first deployment together nearly a decade ago. They’d have his back, his front, and anything else they needed to watch. It was so ingrained in them all that he didn’t even have to question it.
Who had Havana’s back? She stood opposite him at the other corner of the dais, listening to Serenity fire up the crowd, wearing a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Her sister circulated through the diner, fetching drinks and people’s orders effortlessly, as she did every night. Aria Nixon was good people, but she c
ouldn’t be Havana’s cheerleader while she was working.
That was not cute at all.
Caleb crossed the small expanse purposefully enough that Keith Moon moved out of his way without question. Havana’s gaze narrowed as Caleb bumped her arm companionably.
“Nervous?” he murmured under his breath.
“No.” She eyed him with undisguised curiosity. “You?”
“Nah. I ran for Miss Congeniality of my platoon. Compared to that tough crowd, this is a walk in the park.”
Havana actually laughed, which made him grin in return. She had a nice laugh when she forgot they weren’t operating under the truce anymore. Which was a shame in retrospect. Maybe when she won the election, they could try the idea of a truce again.
“Did you get the title?” she asked under her breath as Serenity began lauding the candidates’ qualifications for mayor, most of which was weighted in his favor unnecessarily.
“Of course,” he shot back indignantly with a small head tilt toward his team. “You see my competition.”
Serenity wound up her comments with a nod at Havana, who had won the coin toss and thus had chosen to go first, naturally. That worked in Caleb’s favor because once she finished, he could agree with anything negative she said about him, as well as figure out a good way to make her seem like the better candidate.
Havana stepped up on the stage, but it was tilted a bit on one side, which caught her off guard. She tripped, then flailed and started to fall. For the second time in a week, she ended up in Caleb’s arms before he could blink.
In a testament to his superior iron will, he somehow managed to not immediately bury his nose in her hair. And he got her standing on her own two feet without coming apart, a minor miracle given how his entire body had shot into high alert the instant it had registered contact with Havana’s warmth. But he’d wound up standing on the platform with her as a result. Awkwardly. And there was no way the crowd could miss exactly how “alert” his body had gotten.