She's My Kind of Girl (3 page)

Chapter Four

Well now, Darcy had always been a sassy, sarcastic one. Of course, as soon as Griffin had seen her he'd known why she'd come home. He'd contemplated how to handle the situation. Because the truth was, one look and he wanted her. Just like he'd wanted her back in the day, that first time behind the school. Something about Darcy Miller had always reached inside of him and squeezed.

Time apparently hadn't changed that. Instead of approaching this unfortunate reunion rationally and with a clear head, all he could think about was getting his hands on her as fast as possible.

If it were an option, he would drag her into the storage closet, where the nice ladies of Revival kept all their extra supplies, and take her up against a wall. In the ten minutes since he'd spotted her he'd literally thought of about a hundred depraved things he wanted to do with her.

None of them were nice.

None of them were appropriate.

None of them were befitting the town mayor.

By the anger in her face, and the hard set of her jaw, he could tell she wasn't at all amiable, despite the air pulsing between them.

He was equally sure he could change that. He knew that look in her eyes. And while she tried to disguise it, and had done a decent job, he'd seen the flash of desire in her gaze, the hungry way she looked at him.

Regardless, this wasn't the time or the place. This was the first annual Revival Christmas party, it needed to be a smashing success, and that did not include publicly dragging wild child Darcy Miller into the supply closet and going down on her until she screamed.

He was respectable now.

So, he'd play it cool. Very cool. He gave her his best “vote for me” smile. “I understand your mom is upset, Darcy. But the town offered her above market value for the property.”

Darcy's expression turned thunderous. “She is not selling her house so you can build some stupid park.”

All he needed to do was stay calm. His forearm muscles flexed. Unfortunately, he'd always loved fighting with her a little too much. She made every battle so fun. So hot.

But this wasn't the time for those thoughts.

This was the time for him to act like a proper mayor. In a pleasant tone, he said, “I understand this is distressing for her, but it's hardly a stupid park. It will be the town center.”

Darcy raised a brow but said nothing.

He glanced at Sam, who gave him a cocky grin. He returned his attention back to the woman in front of him. “The town is suffering, Darce.”

“Don't call me that.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “This project will revitalize the downtown, bring in businesses and families. It will help the city's economy modernize and give the citizens a place to come together as a community.”

Expression fierce, she planted her hands on her hips. “I don't see why you can't do that without my mom's house. She's got a seven-hundred-and-fifty-square-foot house. Her property is like the size of a postage stamp.”

Griffin put his hand in his pockets. “It's right in the middle of the plans. I can't work around her.”

She flipped that gorgeous hair of hers over her shoulder. “Well, you're going to have to.”

Irritation flashed through him at her stubbornness. She was being unreasonable. Which was just like her. “I'm sorry you feel that way, but I can assure you I have the right to take the property. It falls under the letter of the law. Fighting it will only cost you time and money, probably more than the house is worth. She has two choices: Either let the town buy it for above market value and have her relocate to a nicer house close by, or have the property condemned and seized.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes and pointed at his chest. “I don't know how yet, but I'm not going to let you get away with this.”

Griffin looked at Sam again, tilting his head toward Darcy, hoping that his friend would provide another, more objective point of view. Sam, however, just stood there mute, a big shit-eating smile on his face.

All right then, Griffin was on his own. He went to say something, but Gina chose that moment to slither on up to him, hooking her arm around his and batting her lashes.

Oh for fuck's sake, not this.
He attempted to subtly pull away but her grip was like a vise.

Gina gave Darcy a disgusted once-over. “Oh, it's you.”

Darcy's spine went ruler straight, which had an impressive effect on her cleavage. “It's me.”

“Never expected to see you again,” Gina said, her words a bit slurred. Apparently she'd done some pre-partying.

Great.

Darcy gave her a sickly sweet smile. “Same here. But here we are. Just like old times.”

Gina put her chin on his arm. “You promised me a dance.”

He most certainly did not.

She offered a sly sneer in Darcy's direction. “I'm divorced now.”

“Shocker,” Darcy said.

Sam laughed and covered it with a cough.

Gina glared at Sam before beaming at Griff. “Now, about that dance?”

Darcy's gaze narrowed in a menacing glare. “Before you go dancing the night away,
Mayor
, I have a few things to say. To make myself real clear, I don't care about Revival. I care about my mom, and she's not selling.”

He tried to shake Gina off him, but she wouldn't dislodge. His jaw clenched. “I care about your mom too, Darcy.”

“Ha!” Darcy shook her head. “What a joke. If you cared about her, you wouldn't be hurting her.”

He once again attempted to extricate himself from Gina, but to no avail. Divorced women on the prowl for their first wild fling were the absolute worst. But she was still a voter. He took a deep breath and smiled pleasantly down at her. “Gina, would you mind excusing us for a moment, we have a few things to discuss.”

She pouted up at him. “But my dance.”

“I'll have to take a rain check. I have things to attend to.”

Darcy rolled her eyes.

Sam grinned.

Gina tightened her grip, wrapping her body around his arm like a snake. “I won't take no for an answer.”

Griffin's head started to pound as he sorted through his diplomatic options to extract himself from this situation.

Darcy huffed and shook her head. “For the love of God, woman, can't you see he doesn't want to dance with you?”

Oh no.
He'd forgotten this part of her, the part that said whatever was on her mind, consequences be dammed.

He cleared his throat to get the situation back under control, but Gina sneered, “What the hell would you know about him?”

“I've got eyes.” Darcy waved a hand in their direction. “He's been trying to get away from your octopus grip for the last five minutes. Can't you feel him trying to pull away?”

“Don't be ridiculous, he wants to dance with me.” Gina batted her lashes up at him. “Don't you, Griff?” Before he could answer she turned back to Darcy and said in a snide tone, “You haven't changed one bit, Darcy Miller.”

Darcy laughed. “And thank God for that.” She gave Griffin an evil glare. “Some of us don't sell out.”

“Gina, please,” he said, his voice pleading. “If you'll kindly provide me my arm, I would appreciate it.”

Darcy shook her head at him, as though disgusted. “Don't bother, we're done here anyway. I've said all I need to. She's not selling, end of story.”

Then she turned on her heels and left, her perfect ass a spectacular sight as she sashayed off.

Chapter Five

Darcy stomped down the empty hallway, her heels making angry clicking sounds in the deserted corridor. Hands clenched, she cursed Griffin, mumbling under her breath as she stormed without direction through the building. Goddamn him!

He was the worst.

How dare he be all respectable?

All reasonable.

How dare he look like that? He was supposed to be ugly.

He was not supposed to make her want to pull out the vibrator she was writing a review on.

He was not supposed to affect her anymore.

She turned into a dark corridor and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

She didn't think she could last one night in this town, let alone a month.

She missed home.

If she were back in New York, she'd be out with her girlfriends drinking exotic martinis at the hottest new club.

But here she was, stuck in this abysmal little town with her hot-as-hell ex-boyfriend who also wanted to steal her mom's house.

Lust-fueled anger was not fun.

“I thought I'd find you here.”

As the shiver raced down her spine, she gritted her teeth. That stupid voice.

She opened her eyes and glared at Griffin. “What do you want?”

He raised a brow. “I wanted to finish talking.”

“I have nothing more to say.” Darcy straightened from the wall. “You're not getting my mom's house.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Legally, there's nothing you can do to stop me. I'm sorry.”

She narrowed her gaze on his tie—red, decorated with little Christmas trees all over it. “What happened to you?”

“I grew up.” His tone oh-so matter of fact. “Why don't you come to my office tomorrow and I can go over everything with you so you'll understand the lengths the town has gone to so your mom is happy.”

“She's not selling her house. She was raised there.”

“I know that, Darcy.” He stepped closer, and she resisted the urge to suck in a breath. “She has two choices: She either sells it, or it's taken from her January first. Those are the only options she has.” He took another step closer, and tingles broke out over her skin.

Damn him. When was the last time she had tingles? She wasn't sure, but it had been a good long while.

He held out a card to her. “Here's a name of a lawyer who will explain why you don't have a lot of recourse.”

Darcy took the business card and looked down at it. The words read:
MITCH RILEY, ATTORNEY AT LAW.
“I don't remember this name.”

“He didn't grow up here, but he's lived here for about five years. He works for the state's attorney's office.”

She tucked the card into her small purse. She'd talk to him and a lawyer of her own. Once she figured out her options she'd know what she had to fight with. If anything.

She raised her chin. “I can't believe you turned into such a bastard.”

He shrugged. “Most people think I've managed to turn myself around.”

“You're a sellout.” She pushed past him. “You're everything you never wanted to be.”

“I'm not eighteen anymore, Darce.”

She swung around. “Too bad. You were a better man then.”

The old Griffin would have risen to the challenge. This new Griffin just raised a brow. “Come to my office tomorrow and I'll lay everything out for you. You'll see that taking the terms Revival is offering your mom is the best and only option.”

“Fine. I'll be there.” She took a few steps toward him and poked him in the chest. “But prepare for a fight, because I'm sure as hell not going down without one.”

“I'd expect nothing less.” He ensnared her wrist to stop her next jab, and it was like lightning bolts shot up her arm. His thumb stroked over her pulse point, which had gained considerable speed. “You're still fucking gorgeous.”

She tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. Too strong. “Let me go.”

He did, and his hands slipped back into his pockets. He jutted his chin toward the hall where faint music came from. “I have to get back.”

“Nobody's stopping you.” The imprint of his fingers on her wrist still warm on her skin.

“I'll see you tomorrow.” He turned and walked away, his ass perfect in his black pants, his shoulders broad.

Disgusting. And then her mouth was open before she could even think about it. “Nice tie, Griffin.”

He laughed.

The jerk.

He was not going to win.

Chapter Six

The following morning, Darcy thought about dressing in a business suit but abandoned the notion and opted for dark skinny jeans and a white V-necked sweater that hugged all her curves. Because if she was going to sweat, Griffin was too.

She took a sip of coffee, and her mom smiled at her. “You look lovely, baby.”

“I'm going to city hall today.”

Darcy's mom beamed. “To see Griffin?”

“To see if I can put a stop to this. Griffin is a by-product.”

Tammy poured a liberal amount of cream into her coffee, following it up with three heaping scoops of sugar. “He's still the most handsome boy in town.”

“Ha!” Darcy scoffed.

“Well he is,” Tammy said, putting down her cup. “He's also our most eligible bachelor.”

The hair on the back of Darcy's neck prickled. “Hey, what is this? He's not the point; your house is the point.”

“I know, baby.” Tammy patted her hand. “I'm just saying he's such a nice boy now.”

Lies. He had them all fooled. No way was he a nice boy.

“You weren't too happy when I dated him,” Darcy reminded her. Griffin had been more the “lock your doors when he walks by” type. He used to roar up to her house on that old Harley, and they'd go way out of town. Darcy still remembered the way the beast of a machine vibrated through her whole body as she rode on the back, plastered against his strong frame.

“That was a long time ago,” her mom said, ripping her from her thoughts. “He's changed.”

Not for the better, as far as Darcy was concerned. She gulped down her coffee and stood. “Time to get this over with.”

Now if she could only quell the excited butterflies in her stomach at the thought of seeing him.

“I have faith in you.”

Darcy didn't. She'd talked to her lawyer friend last night and Roger told her it wasn't looking very good. She didn't want her mom's hopes up. “Mom, you know there's probably nothing I can do, don't you?”

Tammy offered an angelic smile. “We'll see.”

Darcy sighed and climbed into her mom's old Chevy Camaro ready to take on town hall.

Ten minutes later she was standing at the mayor's receptionist's desk, eye to eye with her fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Weller. She hadn't been a fan of Darcy's and didn't appear to be a fan now. She looked at Darcy over her reading glasses, her lips pursed before she clucked. “Look who's finally come home. It's about time.”

Darcy frowned. What business of it was hers if she didn't come home to Revival? She'd think everyone was glad to be rid of her. Darcy inclined her head. “Mrs. Weller, I'm here to see Griffin.”

The old woman harrumphed. “Let me see if
the mayor's
available. He's a busy man, you know.”

“I know,” Darcy said patiently. “However, I am invited.” She pointed to the closed door. “Ask him and you'll see.”

Mrs. Weller fluffed her steel gray curls. “Don't you go flashing that sweater and getting him all distracted, young lady. He needs a nice girl.”

Darcy admitted there were only a few things she knew really well in life. She knew how to use a flat iron, how to do perfect smoky cat eyes, where to get the best martinis in New York, and sex.

Sex was her specialty. She had a master's degree in human sexuality. And she knew, beyond a reasonable doubt, the last thing Griffin Strong needed was a nice girl.

Griffin would die with a nice girl.

Not that it was any of her business. Because it certainly wasn't.

Darcy was here for one reason and one reason only. To save her mom's house.

She was about to open her mouth and say something she'd probably regret, but Griffin opened the door and all thought dumped out of her head.

Oh dear God.

A black pullover that stretched over his flat abs and highlighted his broad shoulders. And he was in jeans. He'd always worn a pair of jeans like they'd been created especially for him.

Darcy dug her nails into the palms of her hands.

He had a five o'clock shadow along his jaw.

He was reading papers and looked up, his expression flashing as he caught sight of her. “Darcy.”

“Griffin,” she said, her voice cool.

He handed a stack of papers to Mrs. Weller. “Could you file these for the next council meeting?”

“Of course,” the old woman said, beaming at him like he was a god or something.

He held open the door and stood against it. “Are you coming?”

Oh God, she'd like to.

She shook her head. No. Wrong thought.

“Of course,” she said, and started to stroll toward the office.

He grinned at her. “You always did.”

She narrowed her eyes and flipped her hair. “Still do.”

Mrs. Weller tsked.

Griffin chuckled and Darcy held her breath as she passed him, not wanting to suck in his scent.

“Hold my calls,” Griffin said in a low tone that sent a shiver straight through her.

She walked into the large office. It had a round table with chairs for working meetings. One wall was covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and there were two leather chairs in front of the most magnificent desk. It was large, stately, and she wanted to do filthy things on top of it. An image of her spread over the surface, Griffin moving inside her, flooded her mind.

She blew out an exasperated breath. This wasn't going well.

She dropped her purse and coat into the chair, swinging around to face him. “Let's get down to business.”

His eyes traveled down the length of her. “Yes, let's.”

Their gazes locked.

Darcy's throat went dry and she swallowed. “Mrs. Weller doesn't like me.”

“She doesn't like anyone.” He took three steps in her direction.

“She likes you.”

He shrugged. “I've grown on her.”

“You've grown on a lot of people.”

He flashed a smile. “I'm a politician.”

“That's not really considered a good thing.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. Okay, she couldn't help being curious. “Do you have some other job? When not engaged in being a good citizen of Revival.”

He smiled at her, all sly. “I do.”

“And that is?” He always was such a tease.

“I'm an accountant.”

Oh for the love of God, that was crazy. How had the baddest boy in Revival turned so . . . so . . . good?

It was despicable.

“Yuck!” Her voice filled with scorn. “What happened to you?”

He laughed, not seeming at all insulted. “It's a respectable job and a necessary skill, even in a small town. It's why I ended up running for mayor. I started to notice my business clients were suffering. By then most had forgotten my wild ways and were ready for something new. So I threw together a campaign and voila: mayor.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose. “So you're completely reformed, huh?”

Such a waste.

“Mostly.” He leaned back against the edge of his desk and crossed one ankle over the other. His jeans stretched taut across his muscles, and Darcy tried her best not to get distracted. “And what exactly do you do out there in the big city? Your mom says you're some sort of writer.”

“I am.” Darcy straightened her shoulders. “I freelance and write a blog.”

He raised a brow, picking up a steaming mug from his desk. “A blog? What kind of blog”

Darcy laid it on him. “A sex one.”