Page 43 of That Kind of Guy

So, I needed one more do-over, and it was going to be a good one. I don’t know when it would happen but I was sure we’d have an opportunity at some point. As soon as we had our do-over kiss, I could stop wondering and thinking about her and her body and what her tits looked like, and I could focus on the election.

“Can I interest anyone in some snacks before we begin the tour?” Miri asked, pulling out a tray of tarts from behind the desk. “Scott helped me make them last night.”

Rule number one of running for mayor: if someone offers you food, you accept. Allergy? Don’t care. Picky eater? Shut up. Full off the smoothie, three eggs, and avocado toast you ate an hour before? Choke it down, buddy.

“Absolutely.” I accepted a tart and took a bite. I didn’t recognize the texture of the filling.

“These look great,” Avery told her.Perfect, Avery. Exactly like that. “What are they?”

“These are the turtles that didn’t make it,” Miri replied, and I choked and spat half the tart out into my napkin.

Avery put her hand over her mouth, either in shock or laughter or both.

“I’m kidding!” Miri trilled, laughing. “They’re mince meat.”

Avery and Don began laughing at me and I felt my face go red.

“You got me,” I told Miri, grinning at her. It felt more like baring my teeth at her, and her eyes widened a little bit. “Shall we begin the tour?”

“Great idea,” Miri concurred, and we entered the facility. Miri led us past the reception area and further into the building, chatting about the rescue organization as Don took notes, Avery asked polite questions, and I tried not to look too hard through any of the windows that we passed.

“How do the turtles find their way here?” Avery asked.

Miri nodded with enthusiasm. “Some are injured by boat propellers in the harbor, some are hit by cars, some are attacked by animals or sharks, and people would call us and we’d send someone out to scoop the little guy up. Some are cold-stunned by sudden drops of temperature.” She stopped at the door and gestured for us to go inside. “And sometimes, people just can’t give their pet turtle the love and affection it needs. We take pet turtles as well as sea turtles. Let’s go say hello to some now.”

Eugh. My stomach turned.

“I’m just going to go make a quick call—” I started, but Avery’s arm looped through mine.

“He can make the call later.” She looked up at me. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and revenge under the fluorescent lights. “Come on, Emmett, let’s go touch the turtles.”

I stared down at her with an expression that I hoped conveyed how much trouble she was in, but the expression that she wore conveyed how much fun she was having with this. This was a game to her. Me being grossed out by turtles was a goddamn game to her.

Miri opened the door, and we stepped into the room filled with large tanks. My gaze darted to Miri, the floor, the ceiling, Avery, to Don’s camera as he snapped pictures, anywhere but those slow-moving slimy things behind the glass. Avery’s arm was still entwined in mine, and her other hand rested on my bicep. I could feel the warmth of her hand through my shirt. Maybe she thought I’d make a run for it. Or maybe she wanted to find an excuse to touch me.

The thought sent a little spark down my spine.

She was probably just trying to sell it, this fake relationship of ours. She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to.

I glanced at her delicate hand and the ring I bought her. I didn’t mind this part, the touching. Not one bit.

“—doesn’t have a generator so during the last outage, all the tank-heating lost power,” Miri was explaining, “and the turtles were so cold.”

“Did you hear that, Emmett?” Avery glanced up at me with an overly sympathetic expression. “The turtles werecold. Isn’t that awful?”

I nodded. “Yep. That really sucks. Isn’t the ocean pretty cold?”

Miri laughed and slapped my shoulder again. “Oh, you.”

I shot Avery a confused expression and she bit back a laugh. “Oh, you,” she mouthed when Miri and Don weren’t looking, and I suppressed a laugh. She tried to unlink her arm, but I put my hand on her arm to hold her there.

“You becoming mayor would save the turtles, Emmett,” Don noted, writing furiously. “I’m going to put that in the article.”

Avery beamed. “Please do.”

“Yes,” Miri gasped, slapping her forehead. “I didn’t even think of that. How could I not think of that?”

“Emmett,” Avery said, in a tone that told me she was up to something. “Does your campaign have a mascot?”

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