Book Boyfriends Wanted 17: His Curvy Distraction
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Mary E Thompson
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117K
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25
Chapter 1
Book 17: His Curvy Distraction
Omar
Do. Not. Get. Hard. Do not. Keep it together, Omar. Do not thrust yourself against her hand. Bad idea.
The flash of the camera just behind Natalie Edwards, on her knees in front of me as I tried to pull up my pants, was the reminder I needed that I was the damn mayor of MacKellar Cove.
I looked up at the photographer, a man I didn’t recognize, but he clearly knew who I was. The smirk on his face when he looked at his phone said the picture looked so much worse than the reality of the situation.
“Hey,” I barked, drawing the man’s attention.
He jerked his head in my direction, smirked at Natalie, then turned to go back into the crowd.
I started to follow him, then remembered the beautiful woman on her knees. I saw when she walked out of the bathroom and the guy rushing by slammed into her. When I reached for her, she fell, and she grabbed on to me. But she still hit the ground—hard.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my need to find the asshole who took our picture warring with my need to make sure she wasn’t hurt.
Her hazel eyes widened under that curtain of bangs I wanted to brush out of her face so I could get a good look at her. She cradled her hand to her chest and looked up at me, those doe eyes doing almost as much to my dick as her hand did.
Although her eyes hurt a lot less than her fist.
“I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. You couldn’t help it. But I need to find whoever took that picture and make sure it doesn’t end up ruining my re-election. Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded, reaching for the wall to brace herself as she stood.
I took her other hand and helped her up. Those bangs slid back, revealing more of her face when she looked up at me.
For a minute, we were alone. The bar vanished, the outside world melted away. It was just the two of us in that hallway, her beautiful eyes staring up at me and my brain telling me kissing her was a very, very good idea.
“You’re huge.” The way her eyes widened before she slammed them shut said she didn’t mean to say that. “I meant tall. You’re tall. I’m used to looking at kids, not adults, and you’re really big. Tall. I need to go.”
Before I could reply, she was gone, disappearing into the crowd just like the photographer.
Dammit. I needed to find him.
I dove into the crowd, searching for the man with the picture of Natalie and me. Hudson Grant, the owner of O’Kelley’s and a good man, was behind the bar. I approached.
“Mr. Mayor,” Hudson said when he saw me. He didn’t let anyone else serve me if he was there.
“I told you to call me Omar.”
“We’ll see. What can I get for you?”
“I’m looking for a man. About my height, brown hair, maybe late twenties. Flannel shirt and jeans. Have you seen him?”
Hudson’s brows climbed higher with each word of my description. “Uh, I saw a guy matching that very detailed description walk out a few seconds ago. Do you—?”
“Thanks!” I rushed toward the door, not listening for the rest of Hudson’s question.
I sidestepped around people and waved to a few who tried to stop me, then burst out into the cool evening. I looked left and right and saw a man strolling toward Catherine Park.
I instantly regretted my choice of shoes, but I had no choice. I took off after the guy, hoping I could catch up to him and talk him into deleting that photo.
He stopped to cross the street, then jogged across to the park.
I was a few steps behind him when he stepped off the curb. I hurried across with him, then spoke. “I need you to get rid of that picture.”
He startled, spinning to me with his hands up to defend himself.
I took a step back and held my hands up. “Whoa. I know you know who I am. I just want to talk to you.”
The guy looked around, realizing how alone we were. “What do you want?” His voice cracked with the question, the bravado from the bar gone.
“I just want you to delete that picture.”
“Why should I?”
My mind raced with reasons, but if he was willing to take the picture in the first place, it was unlikely those reasons would convince him to delete it. “I can pay you.”
His brows went up, and the smirk came back.
Fuck. Wrong answer.
“If you’ll pay me, someone else probably will, too.”
“That picture… What you think you saw wasn’t what you saw.”
He smiled and crossed his arms. “What do you think I think I saw?”
I opened my mouth to argue but quickly shut it. Admitting anything would only give him more fuel.
A different tactic might work.
“The woman runs a summer camp program. Something like that could ruin her.”
The guy shook his head. “You can’t tell who she is. The only face visible is yours, Mr. Mayor.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The guy started to reach into his pocket, but he stopped.
Dammit.
“I’m not going to fall for that. But I will keep your offer in mind.”
“That picture isn’t going to be good for anyone.”
“It’ll be good for me. Think of how much I can make with it. A nice night out with my girl. Good Christmas present for her. I think I’m going to hang on to this picture for a little while.”
“That’s a bad idea.”
He smirked and shook his head. “I don’t think it is. But you have a good night, Mr. Mayor.”
I wanted to throttle the little dipshit, but that would only make things worse. Instead, I stood there while he walked away and took my hopes of getting elected mayor with him.
Explaining something like that to the residents of MacKellar Cove was going to be nearly impossible. I was the interim mayor—temporary. Only there because the last mayor was a misogynistic jackass who tried to fire the woman who ran the tourism department.
And now someone had a picture of me in a public place with a woman on her knees in front of me. I didn’t look any better than the last guy.
Which meant I was going to lose the election—unless I got that picture back.
Because I wanted to be mayor. I wanted to be elected. I was good at my job. And keeping it meant continuing to serve my adopted hometown and the people who lived there.
Including the woman who put me in that position.
* * *
I scoured social media and the local paper for weeks, past Thanksgiving and into December, and saw absolutely no sign of the picture. I met with the town’s legal counsel and was told there was nothing they could do since it was a personal matter and not a town matter. I considered calling Ramsey Holland, who was an acquaintance and a local lawyer, but decided against it. Ramsey was well-connected and could easily become as much of a risk. I didn’t expect it from him, but I also didn’t know him well enough to be sure.
A knock on my office door brought me out of the latest attempt to find the man who took the picture. I called out for Jane, my assistant, to enter.
“Mr. Mayor, you have a visitor. Ms. Rucker from the community center asked if you’re available.”
I nodded and waved for Jane to let Amelia in. Amelia and I had worked together on a few projects, and I found her to be friendly and as much of an advocate for the center as she was for the kids it served.
“Good morning, Amelia. How are you?” I asked, standing and extending my hand to her. A man I didn’t recognize followed her into my office.
“I apologize for barging in, Omar, but Harry stopped by this morning, and I wanted to make sure we spoke to you about his proposal.”
I smiled at Amelia and Harry, curious about what the man had to say. He appeared close to sixty, with a sprinkle of gray hair at his temples that circled the back of his head. He wore faded jeans and a flannel shirt—a nod to the chilly winter that sank into the area over the last few weeks.
“Nice to meet you, Harry. What can I do for you?”
“You, too, Mr. Mayor. Um, so I went to see Amelia, and she insisted we come straight here. I didn’t realize this was such a big deal.” Harry glanced at Amelia, who grinned widely at him.
“Tell Omar what you told me—about the campground.”
Campground? They definitely had my curiosity piqued.
“I own the property where Mountain View Campground used to be. It hasn’t been open in a while—a decade maybe?” Harry looked at Amelia to confirm, and she nodded. “Anyway, my wife and I held on to the property, trying to decide what to do with it. We had plans, but we’re getting older, and now we’re moving away, leaving the cold behind and heading out west to where our kids live, but we love MacKellar Cove. We loved having kids up at the campground, and families, and we hate the idea of it just being destroyed and sold to some developer who will ruin everything the place used to be. You know?”
I nodded. It didn’t happen as often in MacKellar Cove, but it still happened. The area was beautiful, but relatively untouched. Perfect for the right developer, and keeping them out of the area and maintaining the quaint, small-town feel was important.
“My wife and I want to donate the campground. Thought it would be a great place for the community center to use. I suggested summer camp, and Amelia got really excited.”
My brows shot up. A former campground as a summer camp? It definitely sounded perfect.
“What I was thinking,” Amelia said, “was we could relocate the new program that Natalie Edwards started up last summer. She did all the outdoor stuff, and her camp was massively popular with the older kids. She wanted to expand, but she’s at the community center, so there’s not a lot of space. But if she took over the campground, she could take a lot more kids, and we could expand what we do at the community center.”
My mind stalled on Natalie’s name, and it took me a minute to catch the rest of what Amelia said. “Is there a need for that?”
Amelia nodded, her smile fading. “We’ve already had some families reach out. It’s more than six months to summer, but the parents who work full-time need options. We had to turn some away last year, and a lot of them had to find spots in other programs out of town.”
“That’s not what we want.”
Amelia shook her head. “No, it’s not. But there’s only so much we can do. With this property, we can do more.”
“Have you spoken to Ms. Edwards about it?”
Amelia shook her head again. “No. I wanted to speak to you first. Make sure you were okay with it. It’s a big plan, and since Natalie’s camp is under our umbrella, it’s a town program. She has her own budget under the community center since she’s fulfilling a part of our need, but she falls under my cost center. There’s no way we can afford all the work Harry said it needs.”
And there it was. The reason they came to me. Money.
“I know, I know,” Amelia said. “There’s no budget. I get it. But this will pay for itself. And since Harry wants to donate the property, all we need to pay for are the repairs and updates.”
I nodded. It was the best deal around. Free land. But if it cost more to update it than we had available, and more than we could get back out of it, did it make sense? “What does the property look like?” I asked Harry.
“It’s just over five acres. There were hookups for thirty campers, but they’re all disconnected. They need to be removed, though. There’s an old camper we used as an office that’s in okay shape. It’s not pretty, but it’s functional. It needs to be cleaned probably since no one’s been there in a long time. There’s a lot of recreation space: a pool that hasn’t been open in a while but was okay when it was last used, a sand volleyball court, a basketball court, and whatever other games. A few other things you might want to remove.”
“Like?”
“Fire pits, driving paths, picnic tables. There’s no water access, which is why the pool is there. It was fenced, but the fence is not up to code and needs to be replaced. The road in and out is gravel. It’s… The land is the value, Mr. Mayor. I’m not going to stand here and tell you I’m giving you a prime piece of real estate. It’s in rough shape. But I think it could be great. I think it will be great.”
The smile on Amelia’s face told me she agreed. It was going to be a big job, and one that had the potential to cost more than it was worth. If I agreed, it was something that could define my campaign. Something that could win me the election, or something that could sink my chances faster than a failing pool.
But without risk, there was no reward. And this risk was almost as big as the reward had the potential to be.
“I think it can be great, too.”
Amelia squealed.
“But.” I met her gaze. “We need to keep an eye on the budget. We need to figure out what it really needs and be smart about what we do.”
“I agree. But this is going to be great. Thank you, Omar.”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Mayor. I really appreciate your time and the chance to do this for the town.”
“Thank you, Harry. It’s very generous of you, and it’s a huge thing to give back this way to the town.”
“I love this place. I hate to leave it, but I know we’ll be back to visit. My oldest just had a baby, and my wife is itching to be out there with their family. Our first grandchild.” Harry puffed up like a proud grandfather.
I couldn’t help but smile. Even without my own kids, I knew the pride people felt when their family grew. I’d hoped to feel that one day, but it wasn’t meant to be for me. Not yet, anyway.
“This will help so many local grandchildren. You’ll be like their honorary grandparents,” Amelia said. She was good. She knew the right thing to say.
Harry dabbed at his eyes and swallowed hard. “Thank you, Amelia. Thank you so much.”
Amelia hugged Harry. “You and Sue make sure you call me before you head out west, okay?”
Harry nodded and moved toward the door. Amelia followed him, then stopped and said she needed another minute with me, but would see Harry soon.
“Thanks again, Mr. Mayor.”
“Thank you, Harry. Enjoy that grandchild.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Harry stopped outside my office and spoke to Jane while Amelia approached my desk again.
“The campground is in rough shape. I know that. And I know this is going to be tough, but if anyone can make this happen, it’s Natalie. She’s amazing, Omar. I don’t think you know each other, but she’s really passionate about helping kids, and she’s a special person. Leaving this in her hands is the right move.”
“I’ve met her a few times, but I don’t know her well.” My dick still twitched when I thought about her fist wrapped around it. “But if you think she’s the right one to lead this, I’m not going to tell you no. I will tell you I meant it when I said we need to watch the budget—no going overboard.”
“When have you known me to go overboard?” Amelia asked. She was right.
“You don’t, but that doesn’t mean Natalie won’t. Give me a few days to look at what we have available and what we can spare. We might be operating on credit for some of this until we get the income from the summer camp in.”
“We can also do fundraisers and ask the community to help out. There are a lot of people who would be willing to do things like that. We organized a big event in my neighborhood a few years ago. Helped fix up the community center. And every week there’s a group that comes and does little projects at the center, even now. This is a great town, Omar, and we can take advantage of it.”
I nodded. “Let’s see what Natalie comes up with, and we’ll go from there. I’ll be in touch early next week with a budget, and the three of us can meet to make a plan.”
“Sounds great. Thanks, Omar. I’m really excited about this.”
“I’m glad it’s going to work out.”
Amelia shook my hand, then let herself out of my office, stopping to speak to Jane for a few minutes and gush over pictures of Jane’s eleven-month-old.
I turned to my computer to come up with a budget for Natalie’s new project. Yet again, Natalie Edwards had the potential to make or break the election for me—and she didn’t even know it.
