Page 1 of His Curvy Distraction

1

Omar

Do. Not. Get. Hard. Do not. Keep it together, Omar. Do not thrust yourself against her hand. Bad idea.

The flash of the camera just behind Natalie Edwards, on her knees in front of me as I tried to pull up my pants, was the reminder I needed that I was the damn mayor of MacKellar Cove.

I looked up at the photographer, a man I didn’t recognize, but he clearly knew who I was. The smirk on his face when he looked at his phone said the picture looked so much worse than the reality of the situation.

“Hey,” I barked, drawing the man’s attention.

He jerked his head in my direction, smirked at Natalie, then turned to go back into the crowd.

I started to follow him, then remembered the beautiful woman on her knees. I saw when she walked out of the bathroom and the guy rushing by slammed into her. When I reached for her, she fell, and she grabbed on to me. But she still hit the ground, hard.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my need to find the asshole who took our picture warring with my need to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

Her hazel eyes widened under that curtain of bangs I wanted to brush out of her face so I could get a good look at her. She cradled her hand to her chest and looked up at me, those doe eyes doing almost as much to my dick as her hand did.

Although her eyes hurt a lot less than her fist.

“I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. You couldn’t help it. But I need to find whoever took that picture and make sure it doesn’t end up ruining my re-election. Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded, reaching for the wall to brace herself as she stood.

I took her other hand and helped her up. Those bangs slid back, revealing more of her face when she looked up at me.

For a minute, we were alone. The bar vanished, the outside world melted away. It was just the two of us in that hallway, her beautiful eyes staring up at me and my brain telling me kissing her was a very, very good idea.

“You’re huge.” The way her eyes widened before she slammed them shut said she didn’t mean to say that. “I meant tall. You’re tall. I’m used to looking at kids, not adults, and you’re really big. Tall. I need to go.”

Before I could reply, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd just like the photographer.

Dammit. I needed to find him.

I dove into the crowd, searching for the man with the picture of Natalie and me. Hudson Grant, the owner of O’Kelley’s and a good man, was behind the bar. I approached.

“Mr. Mayor,” Hudson said when he saw me. He didn’t let anyone else serve me if he was there.

“I told you to call me Omar.”

“We’ll see. What can I get for you?”

“I’m looking for a man. About my height, brown hair, maybe late twenties. Flannel shirt and jeans. Have you seen him?”

Hudson’s brows climbed higher with each word of my description. “Uh, I saw a guy matching that very detailed description walk out a few seconds ago. Do you?—?”

“Thanks!” I rushed toward the door, not listening for the rest of Hudson’s question.

I sidestepped around people and waved to a few who tried to stop me, then burst out into the cool evening. I looked left and right and saw a man strolling toward Catherine Park.

I instantly regretted my choice of shoes, but I had no choice. I took off after the guy, hoping I could catch up to him and talk him into deleting that photo.

He stopped to cross the street, then jogged across to the park.

I was a few steps behind him when he stepped off the curb. I hurried across with him, then spoke. “I need you to get rid of that picture.”

---