Trev froze. Busted. It seemed better to admit it than make it worse by lying. “Yeah. Your shower gel smells amazing. I was wondering what it is.”

“Orange blossom and juniper. It’s pricey, but worth it.”

“No kidding,” he mumbled.

“You’re cute when you’re shy.” She kissed his cheek and settled in, choosing a different show without him asking, presumably so they could watch together from the beginning.

That was quietly considerate in a way he wouldn’t have expected. And while the program was interesting enough, he paid more attention to how she felt tucked into the crook of his arm, her weight on him gradually increasing as she relaxed. Her hair occasionally brushed against his arm when she laughed, and she was so warm and soft that it drove him wild.

How the hell did I get this lucky?

Chapter 10

If anyone had told Leanne that she’d have a live-in “boyfriend” by the end of the summer or that Junie would stick around St. Claire after having her plans wrecked, she would’ve laughed.

But two weeks later, that was exactly the situation. So far, Trev had been a quality housemate. The only issue was she didn’t want him smoking in the condo, and he agreed to stick to edibles while they were cohabiting. She didn’t have any sense of how often he went that direction, but the place was always clean, and he usually had dinner ready when she got home. Already she’d gotten into the habit of texting him when she was on the way, and he’d greet her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Mostly, he’d stuck to the guest room, claiming he didn’t want to encroach on her space. In the past fourteen days, there had been two occasions when they had some wine after dinner and fooled around, but he seemed to prefer taking it slow. Which made her nervous, like he believed they had a shot at a real relationship, but she didn’t let it mess with her head too much.

Today’s the day.

She tugged at the hem of her jacket and strode boldly into Mayor Anderson’s office without knocking. His brow furrowed over that, but he didn’t have a chance to say a word before she set her resignation on his desk. The frown deepened as he read the letter, then he flattened his palm with an audible thud.

“Is this a joke, Vanderpol?”

“Not remotely, sir.”

“Cut to the chase. What do I need to offer to make you stick around?” Leaning back in his ergonomic leather office chair, he seemed confident this was a power play.

And it was, in a way, but not in a manner he could predict or obviate.