Page 50 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

“I’m obviously the better fake boyfriend here.”

He stepped toward me, eyes boring into me. “Says who? I’m a damned good fake boyfriend.”

“No, I’m better. I’m more willing to kiss you and play this up for the public. But not like it’s a competition or anything.” I jogged in place. “Though if it were, I’d be winning.”

Off I went, running down the path as fast as my feet would take me, bobbing and weaving around roots and bramble. I charged ahead, determined to beat him down the hill. My blood circulated through my body, a nice change from engorging in my dick. Behind me was the determined gait of Leo, crunching over leaves and gravel.

I let out a laugh deep from within my chest. I was having pure fun and had to let it out. Wind rushed through my hair, making it vertical. My heart beat crazily like I was being chased.

I was being chased.

The bottom of the hill was in sight, but before I could claim victory, Leo hulked past me, giving me a tiny shove in the process. He stuck out his tongue as he passed.

Real mature.

I stuck my tongue out at his back.

He waited at the bottom, jogging in place, smarmy grin lighting the hazy forest. I took my sweet time going down the rest of the way. Let the fucker wait.

“Don’t wait on my account,” I said when I reached the bottom.

Leo grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me into a passionate, forceful kiss with all the tongue. It out-amazed, out-spellbound, out-heart-thumped our kiss from last night. And boner-inducing? My dick was so hard it’d set off the metal detectors at the airport.

“You’re right,” he said, close to me, face flush. “It is starting to feel like old hat.”

“Wait, what?” I was still coming back down to earth.

He managed a victorious smile through catching his breath. “Who’s the better fake boyfriend now?”

Leo jogged away, leaving me stunned and hard.

Shit.

14

LEO

Dusty was dangerous. Each day—hell, each hour—we spent together was another land mine I came close to stepping on.

Kissing for sport was easy for him. He was in this for the ruse. He wasn’t the one swooning like a fucking teenager every time our lips met. He wasn’t the one instantly transported back to being the closeted college student pining over his friend.

And damn, of course, he had to be a good kisser.

So we kissed.

A lot.

Saying hello. Saying goodbye. Over morning coffee. Over dinner. Vernita gave us curious side-eye at the office, but she grinned with acceptance. My staff and everyone in the city council building watched and found it adorable. True love. They were buying it hook, line, and sinker. Some kids had even posted us kissing on social media, and people called us “Couple goals.”

That part of the strategy was working. The part where the more we kissed, the more old hat it would be? Big old flop. The more I kissed Dusty, the more I wanted to kiss Dusty. I struggled to stay glued together. God, his lips and his stubble and his breath…it was all better than I ever imagined. You could spend years being close to someone—talking, knowing everything about him, hugging. And sure, that was close. That was its own form of intimacy. But kissing? Feeling him in your arms. That was a whole other level.

Even if it was all for fucking pretend.

Three days before Applefest, I tried my absolute best to concentrate on the city council meeting I was leading, even though the prospect of kissing Dusty when it was adjourned heated me up like a tea kettle.

“The next item on the agenda is authorizing funding to break ground on Renegade Park,” I called out.

“Actually, I think this should be tabled until next month,” Rita said into her microphone. She shot me a smile that was less clueless than usual.

---