Page 3 of Make Me Love You

“It’s time for us to go, Emma. We need to find someone to step up.”

“And I’m the best you’ve got.” She slumped in her chair.

“Not exactly.” He frowned. “You weren’t my first choice. Everyone else said no.”

Well, wasn’t that a kick in the teeth. She wasn’t the best hope. She was the last resort.

“Look, it’s two months. That’s all. You don’t even have to do very much. Keep your door open from eight to ten every morning for residents to bend your ear, sign some things now and again, and that’s it. Heck, you don’t even get a salary.”

Her eyes bugged out. “What? You mean I have to work for free?”

“Why do you think I’m having such a dickens of a time finding a replacement? Everyone is busy with their own thing, things that actually make money.” He laughed. “Now, don’t you worry, I’ve already found someone to act as deputy mayor and help you out a bit.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

His shoulders drooped. “I’m sick,” he reminded her.

She glared, even while her insides softened. A pox on her kind heart. It was nothing but trouble. “That’s cruel, Mr. Whittaker. You’re not playing fair.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” She regretted her answer the instant it left her lips. But what else could she do? She couldn’t say no, not to Mr. Whittaker.

“Wonderful.” He beamed. “Don’t look so glum, Emma. It’s only two months, to give City Council enough time to hold a special election for my replacement. We’re halfway through May. You’ll have to sign off on some Fourth of July celebrations and permits, but budget talks don’t start until August. You’ll be off the hook and some other sucker—” He caught himself and cleared his throat. “I mean, citizen. Some other citizen will take the helm.”

Emma eyed him suspiciously. “You said you ran unopposed. I don’t recall you ever having an opponent, in fact.”

“Afraid no one else will step up to the plate? Don’t you worry about that, my girl.” He leaned forward and patted her hand encouragingly. “Someone always wants power, even in a small town like Hart’s Ridge.”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, but a knock on the door silenced her.

“Ah, good. That will be the acting deputy mayor. Excellent timing.” Louder, he called, “Come in!”

The door opened, and in stepped the last man on earth Emma wanted to see again.

Eli Carter.

***

Eli Carter stopped dead in his tracks. Emma Andrews. He was so stunned by the sight of her that he let himself do the thing he never let himself do: He drank her in.

She hadn’t changed much in eight years. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back into a neat and tidy bun, a requirement of her job working with food. When it was down it reached a couple inches past her shoulders—a fact he knew from spotting her at the grocery store two weeks ago. He hadn’t let himself look too long then, slipping out of the store before she could see him. He hadn’t wanted to ruin her day.

But unless she had suddenly been struck blind, she saw him now. Her day was already ruined, he couldn’t do anything about that, so he might as well take what enjoyment he could. He stood there and looked his fill.

Her gray eyes still looked at him like he was all that was wrong with the world. It broke his heart, the way she looked at him. Fair enough, he supposed, since he had broken hers first. His gaze lingered on her mouth, on her full bottom lip topped by a deep cupid’s bow. A kissable mouth that he had always been too afraid to kiss. Back then, losing her friendship, the most important thing in the world to him, wasn’t worth the risk.

He should have kissed her. If he could do one thing differently, that would be it. He’d kiss her. Why not? He was going to lose her anyway.

Two things. If he could do two things differently, he’d go back and kiss her. If he could only change the one thing, he wouldn’t have arrested her dad. Maybe then the whole kissing thing would have worked itself out.

But he didn’t want to think about that mess right now, though it was never far from his mind. He’d save that torture for when he was wide awake at three in the morning. Right now he just wanted to look at her.

Of course, now that she had turned around to face Mayor Whittaker, that meant staring at the back of her head.

“You said the mayor couldn’t be otherwise employed by the town. That means he”—Emma jerked her head in his general direction—“isn’t qualified for deputy mayor. He’s a police officer.”

“Deputy sheriff,” Eli muttered.

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