Page 14 of Wildly Yours
My brain and body are not syncing up. My mind wants to yell in frustration, and my lady parts want to climb this tree of a man.
He drops his hands to his sides.
“Are you okay?”
“I am. Well, except needing a clean shirt. Are you okay? This is two days in a row you’re in town.”
“I had an idea.”
We’re still standing close. I can smell the sweet perfume of evergreen trees on his coat. I can see dark circles under his eyes.
“That what kept you up last night?”
“How did you—”
“It’s in your eyes. You always looked like that after… What was your idea?”
“I found a grant, but there’s a community match requirement. Caleb is making money on his YouTube channel. I thought maybe he could help me raise some money to save the forest. You know, leverage his popularity.”
“I think we need to jump through some legal loopholes before we have a Save The Forest Bakesale.”
“We?”
“The City. We need to figure out who has jurisdiction, if we need approvals, where the money would go, things like that. You know, official channels.”
“So you think we could do it?”
“I still have to rummage through the basement today to see what other records I have.”
“Want help?”
There’s a skirmish in my body. Both sides are filled with righteous indignation. My heart is screaming to push him back to the dark corner where he belongs so I can go back to looking for my perfect guy on the dating apps. The rest of my body has other plans, every one involving finishing what we started all those years ago.
My body is winning.
“Sure. Meet me at Town Hall. Same time as yesterday.”
I go home and change my shirt. It takes twenty minutes to pick out something respectable that also makes me feel sexy, because I'm thinking about seeing Cody later today, and I forget to get a new coffee for Hadley.
Damn Cody Barone.
Chapter Eight: Cody
It amazes me how slow time passes when you’re waiting for something. Or someone. Especially when that someone makes your body come alive when she's near. I’m sitting on the bench in front of Town Hall. No less than three people have done a double take, no doubt because I’m never in town. Not at this hour.
I have my routine and it works just fine to keep me away from people. Groceries early Sunday mornings while everyone in town is asleep or at church. Visits with Caleb Friday evening while everyone is drinking at Fat Joe’s or getting dinner at Sam’s Grill. Early morning rounds in the park before the crush of visitors. Most official park business I can handle from my office at the visitor center.
It works, and I don’t have to worry about anything. Or anyone. But here I am sitting on the bench like a Townie, soaking up the late afternoon sun, when I see Blake Johnson drive up to the post office next door and park.
I walk over to greet him as he steps out of his truck.
“Cody. Good to see you, Son. What brings you into town?”
“Errands. I hear you’re running for mayor.”
“I am. And I’d appreciate your vote. We’ve got some future-proofing plans in store. Cutting taxes and reducing barriers for some big box stores to move into town so we can create more jobs. You know that growth moratorium—”
“Big box stores? Like the kind that put mom and pop shops like Creek Mercantile out of business?”
