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“Works for me.” He stepped closer, still holding her hand. “I’d love to see you again.”

For once, she didn’t immediately answer. No quick comeback, teasing insult, or challenge. She simply held his gaze, and although he couldn’t tell what she was thinking, she hadn’t taken her hand from his or backed away. He took both as good signs.

“Maybe,” she finally said.

He mulled over her response for a moment and then nodded. “I can work with maybe.”

“I figured you could.”

He lifted his free hand to her cheek, giving her plenty of opportunity to stop him. When she didn’t, he leaned down and brushed his mouth across hers. He’d intended to keep the kiss brief, just enough to show her exactly where his interest lay without pushing for more, but then her hand slid up his chest and around the back of his neck.

Well, hell.

Her encouragement had him kissing her again, lingering this time as he drew her closer. All the teasing and sparring that had filled the evening disappeared, leaving behind the attraction he’d tried not to think too hard about since the day she'd blown past him in that blue Corvette.

She pressed closer for a moment before slowly pulling back, and he resisted the temptation to follow her lips for another kiss.

“That was...” she murmured.

“Charming?” Her eyes narrowed, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Nope. Not even a little.” He let his gaze travel over her teased hair, outrageous blue eyeshadow, and the glitter sparkling across her skin. “But I meant what I said. I’d really like to do this again. Maybe without the Madonna look next time.” A thought occurred to him. “You know, she’s older than I am. I think that brings us back to you being a cougar.”

She gasped and smacked him in the chest. Grady caught her hand before she could pull it away and brought her knuckles to his lips. “Good night, Amanda.”

“Good night, Sheriff Not-Charming.”

He waited until she unlocked the door and disappeared inside, gave him one last wave, then closed it behind her. As he headed back to his SUV, he was already thinking about where he could take her next—and hoping like hell that her “maybe” really meant yes.

Chapter Eighteen

Grady walked into the mayor’s office the next morning carrying his second cup of coffee and wishing like hell he were somewhere else. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep again, although this time he knew exactly who to blame. Amanda had occupied far too many of his thoughts after he got home, especially the kiss on Edith’s porch.

After jerking off in the shower, he’d gone to bed smiling like an idiot and had spent another half hour staring at the ceiling while replaying the entire evening in his head. At least his reason for being tired was better than it had been yesterday.

“Morning, Grady.” Mayor Tom Whitaker looked up from behind his desk and gestured toward one of the chairs in front of it. “Have a seat.”

“Morning.” He dropped into the chair and stretched his legs in front of him. “Please tell me whatever you dragged me in here for isn’t going to give me a headache.”

Tom grimaced, and Grady immediately muttered, “Shit.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“You made the face.”

“What face?”

“The one you make right before you tell me something that’s going to become a major problem for me.”

The mayor leaned back in his chair and chuckled. At sixty-one, Tom had held the position for nearly twelve years and had perfected the politician’s ability to look amused while preparing to dump a pile of crap into someone else’s lap. Grady had known him long before either of them had held elected office, which meant neither bothered with much formality when they were alone.

“It’s not necessarily a problem,” Tom insisted.

“Then it doesn’t involve me. Thanks for the coffee.” He started to rise, even though he’d brought the damn coffee with him.

“Sit your ass down.”