He knocked again. Moira pressed a hand to her overreacting heart. She considered pretending she wasn’t home, but her car was in the driveway. She closed her eyes and blew out a breath. This was silly. Whatever she’d felt earlier was a fluke. It was just Gil. She’d known him forever. The least she could do was answer the door—and politely ask him to leave.
Chapter Three
Gil didn’t have to be an expert on body language to read Moira.
She wasn’t smiling, but the good news was she wasn’t frowning either. She just stared back at him expectantly, her arms folded over her chest, her hazel eyes darting around anywhere except to look directly at him.
If his heart weren’t in his throat right now, he might say something witty and make her laugh. Instead, he forced a nervous smile and offered a small wave. “Me again. I, uh, just wanted to say thank you again for earlier today.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way down here. I just gave Doug an ice pack and a glass of juice, that’s all.” She nibbled at her bottom lip, drawing his attention there. There was something uniquely beautiful about Moira. A combination of interesting facial features—heart-shaped lips, a constellation of freckles over her nose and high cheekbones—that made it difficult for him to look away. “I was on shift for the dispatch, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone. I’m not supposed to leave my post.” Moira shook her head. “But no one was responding to Doug’s call, and I was concerned.”
“I won’t say anything, but…”
Moira narrowed her eyes, concern wrinkling her forehead. “But what?”
“Well, Doug is fairly active on social media. He’s already made several posts about how you saved his life.” He chuckled to himself, but Moira wasn’t laughing. On the contrary, she suddenly looked pale.
“He can’t tell anyone. I could lose my job if Sheriff Ronnie found out.”
“Don’t worry. I have an in with the sheriff’s department.” Gil winked, trying and failing to calm her down.
“I don’t need the town’s mayor to put in a good word for me. I don’t need you to come to my rescue like a knight in shining armor again either.”
Again?
“I was just being nice.”
“I know Sheriff Ronnie, too, you know. And I wouldn’t have gone to your house if there were deputies available to respond.”
“I know that. We need a new parking area on Hannigan Street. Or even Good Luck Avenue.”
“I don’t know where you’d put one. It’s always been a problem,” she said.
“It’s a safety issue. I wouldn’t be a good mayor if I didn’t try to resolve it.”
Moira almost smiled as she looked at him. The reason Gil hadn’t gone on many second dates in his adult life was that there were never any sparks on his first dates. Every time he ran into Moira though, despite the fact that she clearly hated him, there were fireworks. At least where he was concerned.
If not for Moira, he would probably believe the whole spark thing was a myth and that finding the one came down to going on several dates with someone who shared common interests. Who knows? Maybe he would have settled down by now, like most of his friends.
Gil cleared his throat and blinked, watching Moira tuck a dark lock of hair behind her ear where several tiny earrings were stacked. “How’s your dad these days?” he asked, hoping to defuse her tension. Granted, he was jumping from one stressful topic to another. A couple of years ago, Moira’s father had a cancer scare, and for a time, it hadn’t looked good. Now he was in remission.
“Dad is doing well—really well. He’s loving retirement.”
“I bet.” Gil smiled back at her.
“To be honest, I think Mom is a little jealous even though she loves her work. Dad is sleeping in while she’s still heading out early for the breakfast crowd.”
“I’m sure it’s an adjustment for both of them.”
Moira nodded. “Doug seemed a little upset that I asked why you didn’t answer your phone when he called today. I think he thought I was suggesting he needed supervision.”
Gil let out a sigh. “Doug has accused my parents of being overprotective of him lately. Me, too, I guess. He’s probably right. It’s not because he has Down syndrome. Doug is also the youngest kid—my mom’s baby and my younger brother.”
“Nothing wrong with being independent,” Moira said. “In fact, I admire that quality.”
Gil watched her. “I’ve always considered you to be fairly independent yourself.” He thought he saw offense settle on her features. “In a good way. You like to do things by yourself and in your own way.” And at times, Gil had noted that she resented someone trying to step in and offer her a hand. Or maybe it was just him she resented.
“Is that why you hired Doug to be your campaign manager? To give him more independence?”
Gil shook his head quickly. “No way. Doug could have had any number of jobs about here. Your mom offered him one at Sweetie’s as a matter of fact.”
Moira’s lips parted. “She didn’t tell me that.”
Gil lifted a shoulder. “Well, I snagged him first. He’s a hard worker, and he understands what makes people smile. He’s not afraid to tell me what I’m doing wrong either. And he believes in me more than anyone. He was the best guy for the job. Still is.”
Something changed about the way Moira was looking at him. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but whatever it was, he didn’t think it was a bad thing. After a second, she looked away. “Well, thanks for stopping by. I need to get dinner started.”
“Dinner for one?” he asked, immediately wanting to kick himself. He was so hopeless.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Yeah. Me too. Well, one plus Goldie. Maybe Doug, too, if he doesn’t like what my mom is cooking.”
She nodded wordlessly, fidgeting with her hands in front of her. He thought she looked nervous and wondered if he was the reason.
“Well, have a good evening, Moira.”
“You too,” she said quietly, still looking at him in a way he’d never seen from her before. Her cheeks were flushed too.
Turning, he headed down her porch steps, hearing the door close behind him. Whatever had softened in Moira’s eyes would return to disdain once she found out how the town council had voted today. It was nine against three, and mayor or not, he couldn’t overrule the majority.
Gil got into his truck and drove home. When he unlocked and opened the door, he came face-to-face with Goldie, who seemed to be giving him the stink eye. He was getting home later than usual, but it couldn’t be helped. I’ll make it up to you, girl. Goldie was good-natured and upset for only a moment. Then she broke into happy tail wagging and charged forward to greet him, stopping short to sniff around his legs.
“You remember Moira, right?” he asked, feeling like he’d cheated on his dog somehow. “Don’t worry, Goldie. You’re the only girl I love.” After a full minute of petting his dog, he headed into the kitchen for a glass of water, his thoughts retracing today’s three run-ins with Moira. Even though she’d seemed to let her guard down around him on the last visit, he wouldn’t be winning any votes from her this coming election. Not after she got the news about her mother’s business being evicted from Hannigan Street.