Zed stood a little bit straighter and refrained from hitching up his jeans, even if they’d drooped just a little bit. He would not be embarrassed about this. He’d smile and brazen his way through it, which was most of politics, anyway. Jillian sighed, and rolled her eyes, a gesture he now expected from someone who’d come to think of him as her idiot older brother. Zed grinned and turned his attention to the lady at her side.

Man, she was pretty. Jillian was, of course, very attractive with her tall, slender frame and fair hair but this girl . . . Zed cleared his throat to cover the faint, interested chuffing noises he was making. She was tall and curvy, with riotous curls the color of chicory that fell far past her shoulders. His eye was caught by the generous cleavage displayed by her gauzy red sleeveless top, but only because it seemed to be embroidered with tiny llamas leaping between blue flowers. He’d never seen a girl wearing leaping llamas, but definitely wouldn’t mind seeing it again.

Her wide green eyes were the color of the tiny algae that bloomed on the swamp. He loved those little plants, for their purpose and the brilliant color they lent to the water, but he would never tell her that her eyes were the color of what most people considered pond scum. Most girls would find that sort of thing to be insulting.

She was gorgeous and he was staring.

Zed’s cheeks flushed red under his dark beard. His maman would be appalled to find him shirtless and ogling some perfectly nice girl’s . . . llamas. Oh, well, she was smiling, which was a good start.

“Mayor Zed Berend, this is Danica Teel,” she said. “She’s the consultant the League hired to investigate the issues surrounding the faille. Danica, this is Mayor Zed Berend, who believe it or not, is the person the good people of Mystic Bayou elected to be in charge of them.”

Danica, she of the bee-stung lips and delightfully rounded thighs, attempted to suppress her grin as she extended her hand to him, but failed utterly. “Nice to meet you, Mayor Berend.”

“You can just call me ‘Zed.’” He grabbed her hand with just a little too much enthusiasm and pumped it up and down. Her hand was warm and now that she’d stepped a little closer, he could smell a hint of ginger on her skin, and the faint green sweetness of clover. He tried to inhale deeply without being obvious that he was scenting her.

Despite the fact that he’d been shaking her hand far beyond what was socially appropriate, Miss Teel just smiled and gripped his hand right back, which he found . . . intriguing. Zed hadn’t met a lady with such a firm grip since Maddie Angrboda moved to town, but she was descended from a line of Norse stone giants and had an unfair advantage.