Page 22 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

I felt my ear lobe self-consciously. I did that?

“Where’s Leo’s favorite restaurant in Sourwood?”

“There are two answers.” Dusty quirked an eyebrow. “What he tells the public is that his favorite restaurant is Caroline’s. He loves their chicken noodle soup and meatloaf. Food from locally-owned restaurants just tastes better.” Dusty hopped off his stool and took an assured step my way. “But the real answer to the question, the restaurant that Mr. Fancy Shoes Mayor loves with all his heart…” He got right in my face, shit-eating grin and all. “It’s Applebee’s,” he whispered.

Vernita’s mouth dropped. “Is that true?”

Dusty tipped his head, giving me the floor. A huge spotlight blasted on my face while my stomach rumbled in shame at the thought of their nachos.

“No comment,” I said.

“Any other questions?” Dusty asked Vernita in his most victorious gloaty voice.

She slapped the dossier closed. “I guess we’re good here.”

* * *

After breakfast,I went upstairs to get showered and dressed. I wore a baby blue button-down shirt that Vernita said would “soften” me, whatever that meant. I kissed the kids goodbye and sent them off to the school bus.

All that was left was Dusty.

Vernita and I waited in the living room. I took the spare moment to do as Dusty suggested last night and stare out my living room’s expansive windows. The view outside was gorgeous. An artist’s palette of fall colors dotted the trees.

“Dusty, do you need help?” Vernita called upstairs.

“Nope,” he said after an extended pause. “Not used to getting so dressed up.”

She gave me a screwy look.

“Dusty wears a t-shirt and jeans to work,” I said in his defense.

The guest room door creaked open, followed by footsteps coming down the staircase. Vernita and I made our way into the foyer. And that was when I lost my breath and my mind.

Dusty walked down the stairs in a crisp, plaid button-down shirt, dark blue khakis, and a sharp gray blazer. His scruff had been shaved away to reveal fresh-faced cheeks. His shaggy hair was combed into refined waves. He was a preppy, clean-cut dream, and I was in so much fucking trouble.

Dusty descended the stairs with grace as if modeling for a catalog spread.

I opened my mouth to comment, but that whole losing my breath stuff kept the words at bay.

“Thoughts?” He took off his blazer and threw it over his shoulder. The shirt pulled at his toned chest and had the fitted cut that showed his lean torso.

“You clean up nice.” I played it cool, even though a jumble of mixed feelings ballooned inside me.

“I told Vernita I don’t need the blazer. It’s too stiff. What if I rolled up my sleeves? That’s what politicians do when they want to show they care, right?”

“Rolled-up sleeves works for me.” I glanced at Vernita, who gave a nod of approval.

She draped the blazer over the banister.

“I made sure to keep the tags on.” Dusty pointed to the paper squares outlined on his upper back and just over his,gulp, round butt. “You can return them next month.”

“They’re yours to keep.”

“Leo. No.” Dusty didn’t have a political spouse wardrobe at the ready, so I’d made an emergency shopping trip before swinging by the airport.

“It’s the least I could do.”

The smile that sprung to his face was priceless and sent a warm feeling through my body.

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