“You can’t kiss me and expect me to reciprocate.”
“You did reciprocate.”
“Going forward.” She karate chopped the air in front of her. “You can’t kiss me going forward.”
“That’s entirely up to you. But you can’t stop me from trying to seduce you.”
Shock unhinged her mouth. He was trying to seduce her?
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Do you think I trot out my famous grilled cheese for any woman? No, ma’am,” he said, his accent creeping in. “Only one who is willing to tromp through Bigfork’s worst snowstorm in a decade to bring me pie.” He picked up the other half of his sandwich.
“I’m being serious.”
“All right.” In a blink, he’d dialed down the charm and upped the intensity. “Let’s be serious.”
He polished off that half in three big bites, took his time chewing and swiped his mouth with a napkin. Once he’d swallowed a generous amount of water, he flattened his hands on the island where he stood across from her and leveled her with a look.
Miriam was beginning to panic and had no idea where to settle her gaze. On him wasn’t safe, but was by far the most appealing.
“You came here for a reason,” he said. “What was it?”
“I told you. To set you straight. And, as you concluded, to make sure you ate a decent Thanksgiving dinner.”
“What’s under that, Mimi?” His tone was serious, his expression patient. “What is this?”
He gestured between the two of them and she could only assume that by this he meant the thrumming sexual attraction saturating the air. Since the kiss last night that had picked up where it’d left off years ago.
He offered her another half of a grilled cheese. She accepted, but didn’t take a bite.
“Okay, fine,” she admitted. “Yes, there’s something here. But nothing we can act on.”
“Why not?”
“Um, in case you don’t recall, we failed miserably the first time.”
“We won’t make the same mistakes this time around. We’re older and wiser. I have no accent now. Totally new experience.”
Now, see? When he did that she wanted to argue that she wasn’t interested in a second “time around” and assure him as much as herself that she didn’t want to reexperience him...
But while her head was absolutely clear on that direction, her body was melting into a puddle. Chase was an experience—a fantastic one if memory served. And fantastic hadn’t been an adjective she’d used to describe anyone who had graced her bedsheets since the man standing across from her.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Mayor.” She laced her words with sarcasm and offered a laugh.
Then she took another bite—a big one—so that she wouldn’t have to give him an answer.
* * *
Mimi was putting up a good front, Chase would give her that.
Reading people was a talent he’d honed. It’s what made him a great politician. And since he knew how to read people, he could tell that as much as Ms. Andrix was protesting this truckload of sexual attraction, she also wanted to test the boundaries between them.
Last night her body had responded to his when he’d kissed her. She’d held on to him like he was the only thing keeping her from floating off the ground. But he had to be careful in his approach. Schmoozing her wouldn’t work, and neither would plying her with wine to lower her inhibitions. Inhibitions weren’t her problem—she’d been plenty bold with him before.
She was nothing like the women who’d been in and out of his life over the past several years. Mimi had never been impressed with his money or his status. If anything, those were in his con column. No, when it came to her, his only choice for getting to the yes they both wanted was brash, flat-out honesty. That, he could do.
“The sex would be good,” he told her. “Probably great but I couldn’t commit to that adjective until after.” He grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry, giving her a moment to absorb what he’d said. When he turned back, her eyes were wide with amusement.