Page 38 of Goalie and the Girl Next Door
“Good,” I say. “Because I don’t think Edgar would approve.”
Outside, the sky’s turned gold with late afternoon light. Angel runs to pull the car around. Scotty lifts Lily gently in his arms. He limps, but it’s like he forgot he’s got a bad back the second he saw his suffering daughter. The rest of the ranch crew gathers, offering quiet words and hands on shoulders. There’s a strange peace now that the worst has passed.
Clément puts his arm around me. “You’re shaking.”
I hadn’t noticed. I automatically relax against him and he squeezes my shoulder tighter.
We watch as Scotty, Angel, Lily, Lisette, and Andy driveoff for the hospital, waving our goodbyes. And that’s when I feel Clément wince.
It’s subtle, just a slight jerk of his hand, but I feel it through his arm, the way his body goes momentarily rigid before he eases it again, like nothing happened.
“You okay?” I ask softly, not moving.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat, then adds lightly, “Pretty sure I pulled a muscle while lifting a literal cabinet off a teenager. I’m not twenty anymore.”
I watch him for a little longer. There’s something about the way his gaze unfocuses…. but he doesn’t offer more, and I don’t ask. If he wanted to tell me, he would.
Instead, I nod. “Well, you looked like a twenty-year-old Greek god doing it.”
That earns a small smile. “Don’t let Edgar hear that.”
I laugh, and it feels good.
He turns to look at me, and I can still see a twinge in his jaw. “How’s the town hall circus? Any new billionaire sabotage or passionate speeches from Ms. Thompkins?”
I exhale, glad for the change of subject. “Let’s see—this week I’ve met with Ashlyn twice to help her prep, reviewed the land titles again, and helped coach the council through a possible loophole that we think might block the zoning appeal. I also may have rewritten half of Ashlyn’s speech because she was about to accidentally quote a country song.”
“That’s public service at its finest.”
“I aim to please,” I reply.
He tilts his head. “What about the mayor? I need my building permit, but that aside, he’s been strangely absent during all this.”
I pause. My instinct is to tell the truth—that he’s been unreachable since the start—but I hold back. “He’s managing from afar. Though I confess, with only two and a half monthsleft to stop disaster, I’m rather wishing he showed his face.” That part is one-hundred percent true.
“You’re good at this,” he says. “You keep a cool head in a crisis. People trust you. The town’s lucky.”
I didn’t see that compliment coming. “That’s… nice. Thank you.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “People are worked up. Understandably. But you’re the only one I’ve seen who’s both calm and getting things done. Maybe you should run for mayor.”
The joke’s lighthearted, but it lands somewhere deep inside me. “Don’t tempt me.”
But the idea sticks somewhere in me. I’ve never had particular ambition, but I love this place, and I intend to stay.
Clément’s arm lingers around me for another breath, then he shifts slightly, his other hand brushing my elbow as he steps back. “I should go,” he says, voice low. “Before Edgar demands dinner and union benefits.”
I try to smile, but I’m watching him too closely now. There’s a tightness in his expression, a pale edge to his skin. He’s trying to hide it, but something isn’t right.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask again.
He squeezes my shoulder, gentle but brief. “Absoluement,” he says in an accent like silk. Then, as he turns to go, he glances over his shoulder. “You will be at the inaugural bash, right?”
Inaugural bash?
“Of course,” I reply, a little too brightly. I have no idea what it is, and I certainly had not planned on going. But one look from Clément, and I already know I’ll be there.
CHAPTER 14
