Merry and Bright (20 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Merry and Bright
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Again she stuck her head out the window, but all she could see was snow flurries. Hell. Luckily, she knew she was the only one in the lot, so with another light touch on the gas, she crept out of the parking space and—

Crunch.

Oh, God! Oh, damn! Jerking her car into park, she leapt out of the car with her heart in her throat and came nose to nose with a man—scratch that. Nose to broad chest. “I’m
so
sorry!” she said, trying to blink the white flakes from her eyes to see past the man’s long dark coat and hood. “I—”

“You weren’t looking.”

“I couldn’t see—”

“I honked.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you in
that
much of a hurry to get to the Christmas ball?” he asked.

It suddenly sank through her agitation that she knew that frustrated male voice. Craning her head back, she lifted her gaze past broad shoulders and stared up into a pair of slate-gray eyes filled with annoyance.

Oh, no.
No, no, no.

Not him. Anyone else on the planet but
him.

The
him
in question pushed back his hood, his dark hair glistening with snowflakes, making him seem even more fiercely intense and devastatingly handsome, if that were possible. Cami imagined even the most hardened of women would sigh over those chiseled features and that rock-hard body.

But not her. Nope, she was entirely unmoved.

Because in addition to the fact that he stood on her last nerve, he was the newly appointed mayor.

Her boss.

Her nemesis, Councilman Matt Tarino. They’d worked together in planning for two years before he’d moved on to councilman six months ago, and in their time together, they’d done nothing but gone head-to-head. He was the bane of her existence.

And now he was mayor. That he was tough as nails and cowed to no one when it came to getting fair share and equal housing for the lower-income population—her pet project—didn’t matter. Nor did the fact that he’d been an excellent city planner, an advocate for all that she herself fought for.

Not when he was everything her orderly, organized, rule-loving brain couldn’t fathom. He had no patience for precedence, rules, or expectations, and adding insult to injury, he seemed like sin personified, possessing a charismatic presence that conquered worlds, parted seas—and women’s legs—with a simple smile.

It drove her crazy.

Logically she knew that these feelings were coming from the little fat kid inside of her, the one guys used to cruelly call Whale-Tail, but she didn’t care. He was just far too perfect. Everything about him made her want to gnash her teeth into powder.

And now, Merry Christmas to her, because she’d crunched his front fender and taken out his right headlight, and quite possibly ruined her life and her career—which
was
her life. Closing her eyes briefly, she opened them again and looked anywhere but into Matt Tarino’s frustrated face. That’s when her gaze landed on his feet.

Specifically, his black leather dress shoes.

Not Ned in the bathroom with Ms. Fabulous Choos, but . . .
Matt
?

And just like that, her humiliation vanished, and so did the ball of nerves lodged in her throat. “It was
you,
” she breathed. “You were the one in the women’s bathroom!”

He blinked. Snowflakes fell from his long, dark lashes. “What?”

It made perfect sense. Women were always talking about him, sighing over him, drooling over him . . . “I heard you two in the stall,” she said in disgust, crossing her arms. “Now, I’m sorry I ran into you, but truthfully, you’d distracted me. Get a room next time, sheesh!”

A slow shake of his head. “I can assure you, I don’t frequent the women’s bathroom.”

She didn’t believe him, of course, but his denial did mean that she had to take full responsibility for her own stupidity. Damn, she hated that. Sighing, she rubbed her temples. “Okay, fine. You’re being discreet. I get it. I’m sorry about your headlight. I’ll have it fixed. Just let me get my insurance information—” She turned toward her car, but he took her arm and pulled her back around.

He was always doing that—
that
being whatever he wanted. In fact, she figured if she looked up “alpha male” in the dictionary, she’d find his picture there.

“You’re looking like a Popsicle,” he said. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

Unexpected decency. That, too, made her self-righteousness difficult to maintain. She wished he’d be an ass about this, but even she had to admit that while Matt defined stubbornness and mule-headedness, he also possessed integrity in spades. She’d seen it in action, when he ran town meetings, maintaining the voice of reason, even if it had a sarcastic edge.

She also knew him to be wild, daring, and a complete rebel at heart. So much so that no woman had ever tamed him.

Cami had never even considered trying, especially since she was too competitive to give him the upper hand, in or out of bed.

After all, he was unlike any man she’d ever been with, or wanted to be with—not that she had much to go on. He was just a little uncivilized, just a little politically incorrect. Not afraid of a battle.

And she so wanted to say
not
decent.

But he was still holding onto her arm, guiding her off the icy asphalt and into her car.

“Matt?” The female voice came from the pretty blonde sticking her head out of the passenger side of his car. “What’s taking so long?”

Cami rolled her eyes and muttered beneath her breath to Matt. “Probably you should have stayed in the women’s bathroom.”

“Her car wouldn’t start. I’m giving her a ride home.”

“And don’t forget the ride in the bathroom.”

“I wasn’t in the bath—”

“Whatever.” She tried to pull her door shut, but his big body was in the way.

“Are you going to be careful?” he asked.

“Move, or lose a body part.”

“Just don’t hit reverse until I get out of your way,” he said with a smirk, wisely stepping out of her way just as she slammed the door.

2

M
att’s evening could be going better. He could be at his brother’s house nursing a beer and a pizza while watching the Lakers game.

Instead, he had to forgo his favorite evening wear—jeans—for a tux. In less than half an hour, he was going to be standing around, smiling at ridiculous small talk about the weather, eating tiny little hors d’oeuvres of questionable origin that never filled him up, all while being scrutinized by every single guest there, even by people who’d known him for years.

This was because he had a big old bull’s-eye on his back, courtesy of getting the mayoral position unelected.

Never mind that there had been a city hall vote that he’d won by a vast majority. Never mind that he’d never done anything but great things for the town of Blue Eagle. Never mind that he was exactly where he wanted to be—for now—when it came to work.

Until he figured out who the hell was messing with the town’s reputation, there would be rumors and doubts and questions. Frustrated over that, he left his house. Still snowing, which meant good skiing this weekend. The roads would be icy. Not so good. He got into his car and headed back to Town Hall for the ball. His starched shirt scratched him every time he so much as leaned forward to adjust the radio. His shoes were making his feet unhappy campers.

And a mile from his house, the rest of his headlight fell out. Nice, and yet the irritation faded as he remembered what Cami’s face had looked like when she’d realized she’d hit
his
car.

Frazzled.

The thought made him grin because Cami frazzled was an amusing sight. A sexy one, too. It was her eyes, so brave, so huge and expressive, that made him inexplicably hungry, and not just for melting chocolate.

But more than just her eyes got to him. She had one of those bodies that women complained about and men loved, curvy and lush despite the yoga she did with her team for relaxation—useless in her case because she was incapable of relaxing, he’d discovered.

In fact, it was the office joke—she was so tightly wound, she squeaked when she walked.

Most men would be put off by that, and given her dating record, they had been put off but good. But he had a feeling that beneath all the organization and planning and general analness beat a wildly passionate heart. He saw it when she was lost in a project at work, when she stood in front of the council and argued for that project with all her might. How many times had she made it her personal goal to pit herself against him for any of a million reasons?

And each and every time, the air between them had crackled like lightning.

The truth was, whether she admitted it out loud or not, they’d been dancing around the sexual issue for two years. She was an amazing opponent, sharp and intelligent, ruthless, with a single line of focus that he’d seen in only one other person.

Himself.

Beyond that, they were polar opposites, she with her love of order and rules, he with his utter disdain of both. And yet somehow they’d made an incredible pair, and during their two years of mutual city planning, they’d improved the quality of life in Blue Eagle and its growth rate more than any other team in the city’s history. It was something to be proud of, and he was.

But he’d moved into the council now, and they no longer worked side by side. In fact, she worked for him, a phenomenon he was quite certain drove her crazy.

And made him grin some more.

He pulled back into the parking lot and looked at Town Hall. The building had been built in 1890 and was, in fact, an historical monument. It had once been an icehouse, a storage unit in the days before refrigeration. Truckloads of ice had been shipped from here to San Francisco on demand. It’d been renovated three times since, and now white lights were strung across the front, anchored by groups of holly and pine branches, backlit by the bulbs. In front, on either side of the walkway, were small Christmas trees, decorated earlier in the week by the local elementary school children.

At the sight, some of Matt’s spirit picked back up. So he was in a tux. So he’d have to drink champagne instead of beer. So he was going to miss time with his brother watching the game. Things were pretty darn good for him, and he was thankful. He’d go inside, smile and make merry, and maybe even figure out who was wreaking all the havoc for the town staff members. Not that Matt condoned the ex-mayor’s crime of seducing minors, but whoever had exposed Tom, as well as lodged the accusations against the two councilmen, had done so publicly for a reason.

Someone was having a grand old time screwing with the town council.

Turning off his engine, he reached for the required mask. It was black, with an elastic string to go around the back of his head so he wouldn’t have to hold it up to his face all night. Putting it on, he stepped out of the car and into the falling snow. Inside, the decorations were overly festive, bordering on gaudy, but that might have been due more to the badly played rendition of “Jingle Bells” coming from the high school band.

The room was already filled with staffers dressed to the hilt in their Christmas finery, all wearing masks, some elaborate, some looking like Tonto.

Mostly guys looking like Tonto.

Matt thought he saw Ed and Adam from his old team in planning. Couldn’t miss Ed’s carrottop or Adam’s double-fisted drink habit. Plus they both waved, so he waved back, and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Matty,” murmured a soft feminine voice from behind him. Turning, he came face-to-face with a woman in a tiny, sparkly silver dress and mask. Hannah Pelinski. He’d dated her once and had been put off by her relentless pursuit of a diamond ring. He smiled at her but tried to keep moving, only she started dancing right in front of him, blocking his way.

“Join me,” she coaxed, making sure her breast brushed his chest.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. I have to . . .” Do anything rather than see the desperation in your eyes. “Go upstairs for a sec.”

“Well, find me when you come back down.”

He smiled rather than lie, and as quickly as he could, moved across the large room, past the elevators, to the stairwell, which was dark. Having worked in this building for so long, he could find his office blindfolded, so he didn’t flip on any lights as he made his escape. On the second-floor landing, he turned left.

Halfway down the hall, he heard a soft thud. So he wasn’t the only lurker tonight. He caught a flash up ahead, coming from the conference room, where there was a long wall of file cabinets, filled with years and years of information on everything from town council meetings to amendments to the city plan. Matt had no idea what, or if anything, someone would want from those files after hours, but as things had gotten crazy lately, he intended to find out.

He peeked into the dark room, smelling the pine of the small Christmas tree in the corner. The windows let in a glow from the string of lights on the outside eaves. He could make out the outline of a woman, sitting in the window well on the far side of the room. Knees up, her arms around them, she stared out into the night. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, tendrils escaping along her neck. Her shoulders and arms were bared by her dress.

She didn’t have on a mask, but even if she had, he’d have known it was Cami by the set of her narrow shoulders, as if they carried the weight of the world on them.

His little snooper had left a few file drawers open, some files sticking up. He was dying to know what had drawn her, what she was looking for, but felt even more curious about what was making her look so . . . sad.

She didn’t look at him as he stepped into the room. “You’re late,” she said softly.

Was he? He glanced down at his watch. A quarter to eight. No, he wasn’t late at all.

Which meant she was talking to someone else.

“Oh, Ned,” she whispered, and hugged her knees tighter. “I need to talk to you, too.”

Ned.
Ned?

Still looking out the window, Cami stood. “I want to understand something.”

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