“Sounds like he’s speaking for himself,” she said, giving the dog another pat on the head. “Is it really…legit?”
“The dog running? Yes, he meets the qualifications. My cousin is a vet, and she signed off on his age at about six years old, which means he’s forty-two in dog years, and I’m now his official owner. I’m a lifelong resident of Bitter Bark, so he is a resident, too. The Election Committee overwhelmingly approved the idea because, as you know…” He inched a little closer, drawn to her and the subtle fragrance of lemons and flowers that clung to her. “He really did save a boy’s life recently. I happened to be the EMT on scene, but it was all Frank.”
“So what’s Frank’s platform?” she asked.
The question surprised him, mostly because it was asked with complete seriousness, which wasn’t something Frank’s platform usually got. “More public water bowls in Bushrod Square, monthly dog parades, and all pet taxes at the local hotels have to go to the county shelter.” He fired off the spiel without hesitation, but then, he’d said it twenty-seven times today. “His agenda is to spread joy and wag tongues and tails. Oh, he guarantees all poop will be promptly picked up.”
But maybe his jokes had lost its zing, because she didn’t seem more than mildly amused. “And you think that’ll get him a victory on Election Day?”
Behind him, some kids squealed at the sight of Frank, but when he glanced their way, a woman hushed the boys, and her friend raised her finger to silently say they’d wait for him.
“I think the fact that this town got fat and happy on dogs over the past few years is all he needs to get the job done,” Connor said.
She lifted an uncertain brow. “I’m sure there’s more to the job than…water bowls and poop pickup. I imagine the people of Bitter Bark care about managing the budget, setting the calendar, and handling emergency management issues.”
Was she testing him or interested in what the mayor of a town like this did? Or just lingering to spend more time with him? The last one, he hoped. “Well, you know, the budget of a town like this manages itself, the calendar was set a year ago, and as you know, I’m a firefighter with the Bitter Bark FD, so emergency management is kind of what I do.”
“I bet it’s a little more complicated. In fact, I know it is.”
“Hey, if you’re offering to give me political pointers, I’ll take them. Over dinner?”
She laughed softly at his persistence. “Political pointers from Ear Girl?”
“Experienced. Approachable. Responsible.” He gave a hopeful look. “It’s brilliant. Can I borrow it for my campaign?”
“It’s all yours.”
“Great. Then can Frank count on your vote?”
She raised both brows, almost as if sending a warning. “I think that depends on who else is on the ticket.”
“Well, see, that’s the thing.” He leaned in a centimeter, close enough to see the sun on the lightest strands of her magnificent hair. “The other guy is bad, Sadie. In every way. Bitter Bark would never recover from someone as crooked as this guy being the mayor.”
She nodded, holding his gaze with a question in hers. “And you really think you can beat him?”
“I believe I mentioned the other night that I don’t generally lose.”
“And I believe I mentioned that there’s a first time for everything.”
“Frank!” one of the kids called, making Frank cower a little closer to Connor.
“Your shy guy needs to go greet his townsfolk,” she said, nodding toward the waiting group.
He turned and signaled to the kids. “One sec, you guys,” he called, then put a hand on her back to guide her. “Frank, let’s take the lady to register.”
But she dipped out of his light touch and shook her head. “Oh, no, that’s fine. I’ll handle it.”
He had to let her go, but did he have a shot or was he just making a fool of himself? “Are Frank and I getting blown off?”
She pointed to the kids and moms. “Your adoring public needs you, Connor.”
He didn’t normally pursue a woman who wasn’t interested. That was definitely what his dad would call going after a loss. But there was something about her, something so damn irresistible, he broke his own rule.
“Can I have a second chance, Sadie? If the answer is no, I won’t ask again, I promise.”
She didn’t say a word, drawing out some of that blood-humming eye contact so long he could almost hear her say the word yes.
Next to him, Frank pressed into his leg like a kindergartner on the first day of school. As the kids got closer in a pack, he let out a low growl that Connor knew needed attention and treats.
“Listen, Sadie—”
“Your constituents await, sir. You wouldn’t want to lose their vote in your effort to get mine.”
“Frank!” The kids finally escaped their moms and lunged toward Frank, who instantly vaulted at Connor like all he wanted was to be picked up and protected.
“Whoa, easy, boy.” He got him down, reached for a treat, and when he turned back to Sadie, all he saw was a flash of her hair as she disappeared around the corner.
Gone…for now. She hadn’t said no to the second chance. Not yet, anyway.
But Frank needed his full attention as the group came on strong, not expecting that this big, strange-looking dog would react like they were a pack of wolves coming at him. Maybe some had out in those woods.
Connor instantly went into Frank-management mode, holding the dog, getting down to his level, giving him treats, and watching the kids get a kick out of Frank slowly trusting them to pet him.
The moms got pictures, then a few more people joined the group, and Connor got back in mayor mode, the well-practiced phrases pouring out.
Ceremonial mayor…put the fun in fundraisers…public water bowls…spreading joy…I was just there, but Frank’s the hero…can he have your vote?
Two more groups showed up and then a features photographer from the Banner, who wanted to take Frank outside on the stairs for a picture. That took a little convincing and a lot of Milk-Bones, but they got the shot. Best of all, the photographer said he had it on good authority that the editor of the Banner was most likely planning to endorse Frank.
An hour later, he was finally free to look for Sadie Hartman, but she wasn’t in the town clerk’s office, which was empty except for the woman behind the reception desk, currently on the phone.
Huffing out a breath, he turned and almost slammed right into Blanche Wilkins.
“Oh, Mayor, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be, Connor. I was just dropping this off and hoped to find you.” She looked up at him with bright blue eyes, crinkled at the sides from sixty or so years of smiling. “You’ll be at the Election Committee meeting tomorrow, right? We’ll finalize the slate of candidates and set a schedule for events and debates.”
“Of course,” he said. “Tomorrow at ten in your conference room.”
“Yes.” She was fighting a smile. He could tell by the light in her eyes.
“Does that look mean you have good news?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I think it’s good.”
“Easterbrook dropped out? No doubt he heard Frank’s getting the Banner endorsement.”
“No, he didn’t drop out. But the slate has changed.”
He drew back, surprised. “It has?”
She looked down at a piece of paper he recognized as the official declaration of candidacy. “A young woman who grew up here in Bitter Bark and is back with big ideas and tremendous experience.”
Seriously?
“Sadie Hartman,” Mayor Wilkins said brightly, handing him the paper to read even though he didn’t bother. Instead, he just mentally reviewed all the questions she’d asked him earlier and her interest in the mayor’s job, and the whole time…she was planning to be his opponent.
“I actually think you went to high school with her.”
“I did,” he said slowly, shaking his head a little at how
he’d been duped. “We ran against each other for class president.” He lifted a brow. “For the record, I won.”
But could he be so sure this time? Not to mention, he could kiss that second chance goodbye. He didn’t know which turn of events ticked him off more.
“Oh, she’ll be a formidable opponent.” Mayor Wilkins tapped the paper in his hand. “Just look at that résumé. She’s recently moved here from DC, where she was the deputy chief of staff to Congresswoman Jane Sutherland from Texas. She worked on several difficult national campaigns and has a law degree from the University of Virginia. Oh, and just tons of big ideas, too.”
“Is that so?” Funny how she’d boiled all that down to aide when he’d asked her what she did. Or how she let him beg for a second chance when she planned to come in here and put her name in the hat. “Then what’s she doing running for mayor of Bitter Bark, North Carolina?” Besides wrecking his campaign and his ego. “Don’t you have to live in Bitter Bark to be mayor of Bitter Bark?”
She tapped the paper. “She’s held the deed to a house in Ambrose Acres for many years, and that qualifies her as a resident.”
“She hasn’t actually resided in the town, though, which would be what the word resident means.”
“True, but she grew up here, and her passion is small-town politics.” Mayor Wilkins practically crooned this news. “I have to say, her enthusiasm reminded me of my Frank when he first ran for mayor and held the position for seven consecutive terms.”
“He was a great mayor.” And this Frank was supposed to be his four-legged namesake.
Her smile grew again. “Oh, I knew I could count on you to be a complete professional about it. I still have faith in you, but Mitch is planning an aggressive campaign, and if he wins…”
She didn’t say the words, but he could read her expression. Mitch Easterbrook would be a disaster for Bitter Bark.
“Mitch has issues,” he finished for her.
“And you know I want you to win.”
He looked down at Frank. “You do remember he’s running for mayor, not me?”
“Then you’ll have to speak on his behalf, unless you want to drop the whole ‘Frank as mayor’ thing.” She lifted her brows, almost as if she was suggesting he do just that.
“Would you prefer that, Mayor Wilkins? Even after reading about the other four-legged mayors around the country and what they can do for tourism and spirit?”
She sighed. “Oh, Connor, I am well aware of what dogs have done for this town. Before your cousin’s wife came here and put ‘Better Bark’ on the map, I was this close to having to resign for all the fiscal problems we were having. So I’m the last one to scoff at a canine idea that’s out of the box. But that said, the job isn’t quite the day at the park you seem to think it is.”
“I know that. I joke about it, but I know it’s a serious job.”
“Good, and what I prefer doesn’t matter,” she added. “It’s your decision all the way.”
Before he could respond, her phone dinged, and she reached for it, checking the screen and letting out a soft grunt of frustration.
“Anything I can do to help?” he offered.
“No, unless you want to attend the Finance Committee meeting and face down six different subcommittees who all think their budget is the one that can’t be cut. Or you could complete the four staff evaluations I need to write tonight.” She shook her head, obviously not serious about the offer, but the message came through loud and clear. “I better go, but I wanted to make sure you weren’t blindsided when you walk into the meeting tomorrow.”
Oh, he was blindsided all right. “I can handle whatever gets thrown at me.”
Just then, a group of about six people came into the office, laughing and talking. They startled Frank, who instantly jumped up and pawed at Connor’s waist and hips. “Even Frank,” he added on a laugh.
Mayor Wilkins laughed, too, shaking her head. “I’m glad to see you’re both being such good sports about it. May the best man or woman…or dog win.” She gave a quick nod and hustled off, obviously too distracted to remember she’d given him the candidate’s filing paper.
He glanced at it, skimming all those lofty titles and positions and education.
Why would this hotshot want to move from the Beltway to Bitter Bark and be the mayor?
There was only one reason: revenge for the class president defeat. Wow.
He walked over to the desk and handed the woman behind it the paper. “Pretty sure Mayor Wilkins meant to leave this with you.”
Leading Frank outside, he stepped into the sunshine, pausing at the top of the stairs to survey Bushrod Square and consider canvassing for votes he’d need more than ever.
But his gaze landed on a woman in white, with burnished brown hair fluttering in the wind as she walked with purpose across the square.
“C’mon, Frank. Let’s go chat up the competition.”
Chapter Five
After finishing her paperwork and the meeting with the mayor, Sadie crossed Bushrod Square with a sense of satisfaction and a hint of terror as the questions poured over her. Was this the right thing for her life? Could she beat Mitch Easterbrook? Would she be a good mayor? And why, oh, why, did Connor Mahoney have to be even hotter than he’d been in high school?
That was the one question that she couldn’t begin to answer. Honestly, couldn’t he have gotten fat? Bald? Boring? Arrested? Why hadn’t he peaked in high school and then gone downhill from there? Wasn’t that the way it was with the über-popular kids in movies and books, leaving room for the nameless, faceless idealists to have their day in the sun?
Sadly, that was not the case with Connor Mahoney.
“Excuse me? Ms. Hartman?”
She immediately recognized his voice behind her, and if she hadn’t, the dog bark would have been a dead giveaway.
“Sadie?”
She slowed her step, wondering if he’d be furious, curious, or amused by this turn of events. Or, knowing Connor, would he pile it up with the other reasons they should go out together?
“Come on, Ear Girl. You know I know.”
Sadie turned, pushed her hair back to get a good look, and watched the man and his dog stride toward her. No, he certainly hadn’t peaked in high school. It might have been this morning, because how could the man get any more confident, sexy, or masculine? His long, powerful legs ate up the walkway, while his dog-of-many-breeds trotted as close to his owner as he could get without actually being carried.
“You know I know…what?” she asked. Except, she did know. She could tell by the look on his face, which wasn’t quite as playful as it had been inside the town hall.
“The good news,” Connor said as he came closer.
“I didn’t expect you to think it was good.”
He gave a casual shrug. “Frank thinks you’ll be a worthy opponent and hopes you don’t split the vote so the wrong guy wins.”
“I intend to get the vote, not split it.” She reached out to pet the dog, who backed away and got behind Connor. “Sorry, Frank. I hope you understand.”
“Wanna talk about it?” Connor asked.
“What’s there to talk about?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He came within a foot of her, looming at a good six feet and change over her five-and-a-half-foot frame, putting her eye-to-broad-shoulder, and letting her get a whiff of that clean, soapy scent and undercurrent of frustration. “How about why you didn’t mention your plans back there?”
“You didn’t ask.” A lame answer, but the truth was she hadn’t wanted him to use some magical persuasive charm to talk her out of the idea.
He slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants, the position casual and easy, like his tone. But the tension in his jaw and the darker tone to his blue eyes told her he wasn’t feeling casual about this.
“So you let me beg for another shot with you when you knew all along you were there to put your name on the ballot?”
“I haven’t qualifie
d yet,” she said. “Mayor Wilkins said they would vote on it at the Election Committee meeting in the morning.”
He snorted. “A dog qualifies, and come on, Sadie. It’s not like you have a crappy résumé. It’s not every day a town like Bitter Bark gets a former deputy chief of staff for a Texas congresswoman wanting to run for mayor. Why’d you leave that cushy job, anyway?”
She let out a mirthless laugh. “It wasn’t cushy.” Brushing back a strand of hair that blew in her face, she looked up, making contact with those insanely blue eyes. “Honestly, Connor, I didn’t mention my plans because I hadn’t yet registered and didn’t know if Mayor Wilkins would even consider my application.”
“Consider? The mayor is drooling.” He looked skyward for a second. “So at least I’m not the only one.”
She let a smile pull at her lips, because, honestly, there wasn’t much else a woman could do when a man as hot as Connor Mahoney stood like a chestnut-haired firefighting god in front of her and admitted she made him drool. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m the one who practically threw myself at you at Bushrod’s.”
“Not exactly.”
“I was about to.”
He dropped his head back and grunted. “I will make Probie pay for that.”
“Don’t be mad at your coworker. I would have found out your secret identity sooner or later, Lieutenant.”
“But I might have gotten the first kiss in by then and sealed the deal.”
She laughed. “I do like your confidence.”
“So you like something?”
She gave him a side-eye as they walked, going along with Frank as he sniffed along the grass. “Plenty of things. But now…we’re opponents.” She shrugged. “Things have changed.”
It was his turn to scrutinize her with a long look, then he stabbed his fingers in his short hair, running his hand over his head like he couldn’t quite make it work to figure things out. “Are you still pissed about high school? Is that why you decided to run?”
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