“Shut up.” I laughed, pulling on his arm, which he had raised over his head as if brandishing a sword. “Everyone is staring at you.”
“Let them stare! For tonight, we ride! For Frodo!”
“Oh my God, I’m leaving now.” I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arm, spinning me around so I was facing him.
In doing so, he inadvertently pulled me a little too close, close enough to feel the heat from his body, to look up and be able to count the lashes around his dark blue eyes and—
“Sorry,” he said, releasing me and taking a step back. He was breathing heavily—apparently being an idiot took a lot out of him. “MaybeLord of the Ringswas a little over the top.”
“You think?”
He grinned. “But my point stands. We’re not going to let anyone tell us our town isn’t good enough. You put together an awesome event tonight, Riley. And you planned a great list of people for them to interview.” He rolled his eyes. “If talking to my grandmother and Jerry Brooks doesn’t give them a good sense of what our island is all about, I don’t know what will.”
“True. You’re not likely to find someone like Jerry in a major media market.”
“Exactly.” He took a step closer and bent his knees a little so he could look right into my face. “You feel better?”
I nodded, and he grinned. And the funny thing was, I did feel better. Andrew hadn’t fixed any of the problems Chris thought we faced—he hadn't magically created a major metropolitan area nearby to vote for us, he hadn't increased our budget to the level the other towns apparently had. But all the same, I felt better. Excited, even, for the first time since I had met Chris Cunningham.
“Good.” He slung an arm around my shoulder and led me back into the square. “Then let’s get to work.”