“Always. She’d be disappointed if I left her behind.” Gil watched Moira. “If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. I can call you when I get back.”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
He looked a little disappointed. “I have your number.”
“No, I meant okay, I’ll go with you.” She took a step toward him. “I’ve never not accepted a dare, and I won’t be starting tonight.”
* * *
Gil wasn’t sure what to do right now. Moira was on his boat, which was probably the last thing he would have guessed would be happening tonight. His gaze slid over to watch her sitting against the boat’s rails as he motored away from the dock.
Moira’s hair blew behind her with the gentle breeze off the lake. Gil liked to take the boat out this time of day because there was nothing more stunning than Somerset Lake at sunset. Except maybe watching Moira enjoying the view.
She turned and caught him staring. Her eyes dropped momentarily, and then, as if he’d dared her a second time, she looked up and boldly met his gaze. “Do you take your boat out every night?”
Gil shook his head. “Not every night. Several times a week though. I try to take the sailboat out on the weekends as much as I can. It’s not as often as I’d like. I’d live on a boat if I had my way.”
Moira’s eyes seemed to light up. “A houseboat, huh? I don’t know. You have a pretty amazing house.”
“You’ll have to come in through the front door next time,” he teased, referring to when she’d crawled through his doggie door to help Doug. As soon as he made the suggestion, panic swept over him. “Not that I’m inviting you inside tonight.” He cleared his throat. “I mean…”
“I understand what you meant. You’re the last guy who’d ever invite me inside for anything more than a true nightcap.”
Gil relaxed a bit. “Is that so? I guess that means you think highly of me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you fishing for compliments, Mr. Mayor?”
“Well, this is a boat.” He chuckled softly. “I’m glad you’re out here on the water with me. The sunset will happen in about ten minutes. If you’ve never seen it from the water, you’ve never seen it.”
“Hmm. Well, you’re building it up pretty good. I hope it meets my expectations.”
Gil was enjoying their friendly back-and-forth. “It’s my promise that it will.”
“And Mayor Gil Ryan always keeps his promises,” Moira said, her tone shifting to something that sounded resentful.
He dropped his gaze for a moment. “I try to. I might have made a few too many promises during my last campaign. You step into something like the mayor’s office and you think you can change the world. That’s what I thought, at least. It’s easier said than done. There’s red tape to get through. Green tape, yellow tape, purple tape. If you make one person happy, you make another one livid.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know I’ve left a lot to be desired as a mayor.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I think you’ve done a lot for this town,” Moira said. “You have made positive changes.”
“Yeah, well, some people focus on the things that didn’t happen.”
“Like the parking lot,” Moira said knowingly.
Gil kept the speed of the boat slow and easy, just like the lake’s current. “When I made promises about solving Hannigan Street’s parking issue, I just knew there was a need and that I would meet it. I didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have a single idea about how to make things happen. I certainly wasn’t thinking that your mom’s location would be the place.”
“Gil, you can’t move my mom’s bakery. That isn’t right. It isn’t fair. There must be another way.”
“This is what you wanted to discuss tonight, isn’t it?”
Moira looked at him. “It’s my family’s business. I won’t apologize for fighting for it.”
“You don’t need to. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you.” He cut the motor and walked over to where he kept the anchor, tossing it into the water. Then he took the seat across from her, suspecting she needed her space. There was an invisible bubble around Moira that he always respected. “I love your mom and her bakery. I don’t want to do anything to hurt your family.”
She searched his gaze and then looked past him. Gil followed her gaze to the sinking sun, melting into the mountainscape beyond the lake with brilliant oranges and pinks. “I didn’t even know Mom had sold the building until after it was a done deal. She never told me.” Moira pressed her lips together and seemed to swallow. “There were treatments my dad needed when he first got diagnosed. She wanted him to have the best care, so she sold the building with the unwritten promise she could keep her business there.”
“Nothing was supposed to change.”
Moira wrung her hands together in her lap. Gil had never known her to be a nervous person. She was confident and went after the things she believed in. She was always the first to sign up to help a worthy cause in town. He’d always respected that about her. “Can we buy the building back? To keep the parking lot from happening?”
Gil grimaced. “Moira, it’s not up to me, and honestly, I don’t think the town council would agree. There’s no place for a new parking lot except where Sweetie’s is currently located. It’s at the end of the shopping strip. A vacant spot in the middle of one would never do even if there was one available. It’s what’s best for the town.”
“The town has been just fine all these years,” Moira objected.
“Has it? You know what happened with the accident on Hannigan Street this week. It took twice the time it should have to get medical attention to those involved. A new parking lot would eliminate street-side parking and free up room for emergency crews,” Gil said.
Moira leaned forward and grabbed Gil’s hand. The unexpected touch took him by surprise. For a moment, he didn’t breathe, didn’t blink.
“What can I do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to save Sweetie’s.”
Gil wanted to make this right for Moira. He suspected she rarely ever asked for help, and he was probably the last person she would go to. This was important to her. “Moira, I’m still racking my brain for ways to make everyone happy.” The sad truth though was that a politician couldn’t make everyone happy all the time. There was always someone who was left sad, mad, or disappointed. “Putting a parking lot on the corner of Hannigan and Good Luck Avenue isn’t written in stone.”
She looked down at her feet for a moment, drawing Gil’s attention there. She was wearing a pair of leather sandals, her toenails painted a soft blue. She wore a delicate-looking anklet with a tiny, heart-shaped charm that draped over her anklebone. “I appreciate that, Gil,” she finally said. “If there’s anything you can do to turn this decision around, I would be forever grateful.” She looked up, and there was something vulnerable in her eyes.
He’d said it wasn’t written in stone, but that was just him letting her down easy. Misleading her in any way was wrong, but he didn’t want to witness the complete devastation on her face. He knew he had no earthly chance with Moira romantically, but he didn’t want her to hate him anymore.