Theo was quiet a moment. “It’s complicated,” he said finally. “When my dad died, Neal represented a bridge to my father’s legacy, and the expectations and relationships that came with him settled on me.” Theo shrugged. “Navigating that has been a challenge since my father died. Everything I do, I do because I love this town.”
“I get it, the link Neal represents to you, but can’t you see you won’t have a chance at another term if you won’t change your approach? You have this amazing vision and you work hard to make it happen every day, but you have to take a risk and trust me on this. Northfield loves you, but I think seeing you in a different light is key to your next four years.”
Theo rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Georgie would agree with you. My grandmother,” he explained at her questioning look. “We call her Georgie. She’s been on me for the last year to let Neal go and have more fun and take risks. I get so caught up in working that I let Neal steer this part of the ship. As you know,” he said, eyeing her, “I’m not great at the PR stuff.”
“Maybe it’s time to let Northfield see a new side of you.” Amber grinned. “I think I’d like Georgie. Lucky for you, I’vebeen told I’m a fun time. We’re good for each other, huh?” She nudged her shoulder against his.
“We are.” He smiled, dimples and all, and her heart turned over with an audible creak. All the years of dust and rust from disuse seemed to shatter at that smile. It made her lightheaded, but not scared, which was a wonder in itself. “Your turn. Truth or dare,” he asked.
“Dare, of course, but can I take a rain check?” She snuggled down into her pillow, suddenly exhausted. Too much introspection did that to a person.
“Do you promise to do whatever I come up with?” Theo drew the quilt over her shoulders and tucked her in securely. His hand lingered on her hair, smoothing the strands away from her face.
She closed her eyes. “Please, boss. There’s nothing you could dare me to do that I’m scared of.”
She drifted off to the sound of Theo’s quiet laughter.
Chapter Sixteen
“I wantyou to train with me to run a 5K race.”
“What?” Amber said. Her fuzzy pen clattered to her desk, and she knew her mouth was hanging open. Theo leaned nonchalantly against her office door and dropped a bomb on her.
“That’s my dare.” He strolled into her office and sat on the edge of her desk, nudging her package of Twinkies into the garbage. Puddin’ looked up in disgust. This was her prime napping time. “Oops. Sorry,” he said unapologetically.
Amber narrowed her eyes. “That was my lunch.” She moved her can of Diet Coke to safety.
“I’ll take you out to lunch,” Theo said. “The Dash for a Difference 5k is next month. The dare is for you to run it with me.” He leaned down to pet Puddin’ on the head. She immediately rolled over onto her back, eyes still closed. Theo grinned and scratched her belly. “You promised.”
“I did not,” she said, aghast at the thought. “I don’t run.”
Theo crossed his arms smugly and she admired the strong curves of his shoulders where his shirt stretched taut. Shewished he would put his suit jacket on. She’d get a lot more work done around the office if she wasn’t lusting after her boss, especially now that the imprint of his body lying flush against hers was still singed in her mind, and oh, God, what a body it was. She let her eyes drift to his legs, remembering how she had her face nuzzled against the tanned, powerful muscles of his thigh.
Was it smart to want her boss so much she felt lightheaded at the faintest hint of his cologne? Definitely not. Their talk yesterday had given her a new admiration for Theo’s dedication to working hard at something that truly mattered to him. This wasn’t just a job he had inherited; it was a calling to make a real difference in people’s lives.
It put her own less than stellar life choices front and center. She was used to that, but seeing Theo pour himself into his work had kindled the tiniest flicker, a yearning to find something similar in herself too.
The more she got to know Theo, the more indelibly he was marked in her brain...and other parts of her body. Other, lower, hotter parts that were humming along with him so near her.
An image of that long, hard body over her instead of under, crowding her and absorbing her at the same time...She shifted back in her chair and fanned herself with her notebook. Theo smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his wide, sensual lips.
“That’s my dare. You said you weren’t scared of anything I could come up with, and this is what I’m choosing,” he said calmly.
He was in full mayor mode, reasonable and patient as he listed the reasons he thought he could torture her. As always, it made the little streak of wild she kept mostly contained pulse to life.
“That’s not fair,” she said indignantly. “I was sick. You took advantage of me.”
“You gave me your word. That’s how truth or dare works.” He raised his voice. “Right, Charlotte?”
“I’m afraid that’s how the game works,”Charlotte called back. “Don’t die, Amber.”
“Traitor.” Amber shouted down the hall.
She’d have to play dirty now. She sat back in her swivel chair and slowly crossed her legs, making sure a good amount of her smooth thigh showed in the slit of her royal blue wrap dress.
It was another piece she had designed years ago for a temp job at an office downtown. The job hadn’t lasted—the manager had wandering hands whenever she had brought him his daily coffee, but the dress was a win. The silk draped over her breasts and hips like it was made for her body, making her feel sexy and demure at the same time. But the real star of her outfit today was her hot pink high heels with the sexy strap at the ankle and a tiny poof of faux pink feathers at the toe.
She looked up under her lashes at Theo to see him staring intently at her legs. The heels were a ridiculous showgirl kind of sexy, and she had worn them deliberately. She had a sneaky suspicion Mr. Buttoned-up Mayor had a thing for high heels. She wasn’t above using them to her advantage. “Some people aren’t meant to run, boss,” she said, trailing a finger down from her knee to her ankle. “These legs are more sashay than sprint. Blame it on the short muscle fibers. It’s a thing.”
