Page 2 of His Curvy Distraction

He startled, spinning to me with his hands up to defend himself.

I took a step back and held my hands up. “Whoa. I know you know who I am. I just want to talk to you.”

The guy looked around, realizing how alone we were. “What do you want?” His voice cracked with the question, the bravado from the bar gone.

“I just want you to delete that picture.”

“Why should I?”

My mind raced with reasons, but if he was willing to take the picture in the first place, it was unlikely those reasons would convince him to delete it. “I can pay you.”

His brows went up, and the smirk came back.

Fuck. Wrong answer.

“If you’ll pay me, someone else probably will, too.”

“That picture… What you think you saw wasn’t what you saw.”

He smiled and crossed his arms. “What do you think I think I saw?”

I opened my mouth to argue but quickly shut it. Admitting anything would only give him more fuel.

A different tactic might work.

“The woman runs a summer camp program. Something like that could ruin her.”

The guy shook his head. “You can’t tell who she is. The only face visible is yours, Mr. Mayor.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The guy started to reach into his pocket, but he stopped.

Dammit.

“I’m not going to fall for that. But I will keep your offer in mind.”

“That picture isn’t going to be good for anyone.”

“It’ll be good for me. Think of how much I can make with it. A nice night out with my girl. Good Christmas present for her. I think I’m going to hang on to this picture for a little while.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

He smirked and shook his head. “I don’t think it is. But you have a good night, Mr. Mayor.”

I wanted to throttle the little dipshit, but that would only make things worse. Instead, I stood there while he walked away and took my hopes of getting elected mayor with him.

Explaining something like that to the residents of MacKellar Cove was going to be nearly impossible. I was the interim mayor. Temporary. Only there because the last mayor was a misogynistic jackass who tried to fire the woman who ran the tourism department.

And now someone had a picture of me in a public place with a woman on her knees in front of me. I didn’t look any better than the last guy.

Which meant I was going to lose the election. Unless I got that picture back.

Because I wanted to be mayor. I wanted to be elected. I was good at my job. And keeping it meant continuing to serve my adopted hometown and the people who lived there.

Including the woman who put me in that position.

I scoured social media and the local paper for weeks, past Thanksgiving and into December, and saw absolutely no sign of the picture. I met with the town’s legal counsel and was told there was nothing they could do since it was a personal matter and not a town matter. I considered calling Ramsey Holland, who was an acquaintance and a local lawyer, but decided against it. Ramsey was well-connected and could easily become as much of a risk. I didn’t expect it from him, but I also didn’t know him well enough to be sure.

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