Page 40 of Hottie on Her Shelf
Chapter Nine
Thanks to Megan’s help, Hallie’s strategy for the night had streamlined.
Lull Fitz into complacency. Pick his brain.
Hopefully, dazzle him with her decolletage—only possible due to Megan’s red ruffled off-the-shoulder blouse with white polka dots. Summery, flirty, but paired with jeans to keep it casual…and platform red leather pumps to keep it—what was it he’d called her? Interesting. If that worked, he’d be distracted by it at every campaign event.
Bottom line, she was on an intelligence mission. Not a date.
The only hitch in the plan? This non-date was better than any actual date she’d been on in years.
She’d been worried his house would befit, well, a member of the family that owned the whole town. Formal and/or fussy and big enough to house four families. Instead, Fitz’s house, tucked away on just enough of a rise to glimpse the Atlantic through the trees, was, well, comfortable.
Nothing ostentatious. Mission style furniture with thick brown leather cushions that looked like the perfect place to read—or nap. Big black-and-white photographs on the walls of the Southwest that she wondered if he took himself. Sultry, smooth jazz warbled out of the speakers. It was just right. The accent lighting was soft yet warm. Even the food had all been delicious, but more on the casual side than a multiple forks and courses approach.
Hallie was let-her-hair-down comfortable here. And the thing was? It wasn’t his comfy house or the wine.
It was Fitz himself.
Their declared truce had changed everything. Well, her truce. He’d never been reciprocally gunning for her. It turned out that he was right. When you took the mayor’s race out of the equation? When they were “just” Hallie and Fitz?
They were two people with scads of things in common.
In the long run, Hallie was aware that should worry her. At some point, the truce would have to be dropped. The reality of their situation was that they were engaged in a battle. And it wasn’t like having co-captains of the cheerleading squad.
There could only be one mayor of Swan Cove. The other candidate ended up the loser.
But for tonight? It was a treat to relax and laugh across from a heart-stoppingly handsome man who didn’t make a face at her penchant for big words. And he didn’t retreat behind bruised male ego when she teased him, either. Also a rare event.
“You’re wrong, Fitz.” She put her napkin on the table and shoved her chair back a few inches. “In fact, you’re so wrong that I may have to get up from this table and go find your friend and tell him just how wrong you are.”
“Before dessert?” Fitz’s arm—sexily exposed by rolled-up sleeves that showcased a tan that had turned the hair on his arm to pure gold, and the ropy veins that made Hallie’s mouth go dry—shot out. He sandwiched her hand to the table. “You can’t go now.”
His hand was broad, with long fingers that promised to be nimble as they traced a woman’s body. Hallie desperately wanted to flip her hand over and interlace their fingers.
But she wouldn’t. That’d be like unlocking a gate…to a dangerous playground. The equivalent of running out into the woods in only a white bra and panties after hearing wolves howl and seeing a hooded figure carrying a chainsaw.
So, Hallie simply arched a brow. “Just like you can’t claim that either of us had it as tough as Everett getting a master’s of science in education, and then dealing with teaching actual children as part of it. Pretty sure that’s harder than both of our master’s degrees put together.”
He let out a long sigh. And, to her great disappointment, removed his warm hand. “Whose side are you on, woman?”
That was an easy one. “The side of logic and reason. Always.”
“Nothing but logic, huh?” Leaning in, his eyebrows waggled. “Does that mean you don’t believe in ghosts?”
“No, I do not.” Fun to read about, in fiction, sure.
In reality? They were nothing more than your brain playing tricks. Fear conjured an idea of a shadow at the corner of your eye. Memory placed faces in your cortex as you pined for important people in your life. Adrenaline ascribed normal noises of a house settling to mystical goings-on.
“Fairies?”
“Maybe. Nobody’s really worked to debunk the idea. Plus, the legend of fairy-like creatures is found in the literature of multiple cultures, which ascribes it a higher chance of being based in truth.”
Steepling his hands in front of his mouth, Fitz frowned. “Now for the deal-breaker. Aliens?”
Whew. She’d pass his test. “Indisputable. The law of averages alone says that given the vast nature of the universe, there must be other life forms out there somewhere.”
“Right? When you look at our structures, down to cells and atoms, those could be considered universes, comparatively speaking. Plus, who built the pyramids if not aliens?”
