grinned at the sweet-’n’-sassy bombshell, who was disarming him completely. “You’re going to call me Francisco Rodriguez Olivier Grant every time you speak to me?”
“No. From now on, you’re just Cisco.”
He took that in.
“Perhaps your silence means you’re not crazy about that. But Frog just isn’t working for me.”
“Fine. I don’t care. Address me as Santa Claus if you want.” He got his swagger back and then some, kind of impressed that she wanted to call him Cisco. There were probably any number of legendary hanging, swinging badasses that had been called Cisco over time.
Not so many named Frog. He’d been named Frog courtesy of his SEAL brothers, because he could outswim just about every man around.
“Frog” was fine under certain conditions. But when a man wanted a woman thinking about him—and a dynamite package like Suz most particularly—it was probably better to be a Cisco.
“Now that we have that settled, you’re going to escort me to the upcoming Bridesmaids Creek swim.”
“The newly christened Cisco feels like he’s missing a bit of info. We just had a swim for Jade Harper and Ty Spurlock, which is why they’re married, according to the tenets of the fabled charm, right? As I recall, I swam that race pretty quickly.” And he was none too pleased, because the way the rumor mill worked in Bridesmaids Creek, the prize for winning the swim was the woman waiting on the banks at the finish line.
The woman at the finish line that day had been Daisy Donovan, and a more annoying wild woman he’d never had the bad luck to come across.
He wanted Suz. Not Daisy.
But supposedly the legend, charm, magic—whatever you wanted to call it—of Bridesmaids Creek had never, ever misfired. Daisy definitely thought she was his—and was convinced enough of that fact that lately he’d been considering taking himself to parts very far away from the small, family-centered town.
“Yes, your swim was impressive. But another one is scheduled. I’ve decided to challenge Daisy for you.”
This was news he could use. “Really?”
Suz nodded. “Yes.”
“Does the charm work that way?” He scarcely dared to hope.
“We don’t know. In your case, we’re calling it an evil spell. You might say we’re messing with our own potion here in BC.” Suz looked thoughtful. “It’s very experimental. Frankly, we don’t know what could happen if we sidestep the legend.”
“Well, I won’t be going off with Daisy,” he said cheerfully.
“Or you could fall head over heels in love with her. As I mentioned, we’ve never tinkered with our town mysteries before.”
He felt some hope. “So, you want to win me, huh?” He resisted the urge to stick out his chest, show off his pecs, showcase himself a little.
“Not really, but I drew short straw.” Suz got into her truck, completely unaware she’d just flattened his ego. “Ladies don’t swim the race. It’s the man’s job to win his female. Or so we’ve always assumed. It’s been this way dating back to the early days of Bridesmaids Creek.”
He gulped. “You mean I’ll be standing on the banks waiting for the winner to win me?”
“Exactly.”
That scared the hell out of him. Suz was diminutive, while Daisy was more...well, Daisy was mean and beautiful and hotheaded. Looked pretty athletic, too, as she raced up and down the main drag on her motorcycle.
“Can’t I just say I don’t believe in voodoo and ghosts and crap, and it’ll blow over?” The thought gave him hope. “I could just ignore it and it might go away. Or Daisy might find another guy.”
“She’s got her sights set right on you. And just so you know, we don’t do voodoo in BC. We have magic.” Suz started the engine. “I learned to swim in the sixth grade, and though I really haven’t done more than dog-paddle in years, it’s got to be like falling off a bike, right?”
Oh, boy. “Cisco” smiled, felt a bit pained and wondered how he’d come to land in a town that was, as his friend Ty said—that same Ty who’d convinced him to come to Bridesmaids Creek—a town full of carneys and soothsayers all selling the BC shtick.
Yet if he hadn’t come to BC to help the locals breathe new life into BC, he would have never met the amazing, gifted, full-lipped, daunting Suz Hawthorne. And that would’ve been a shame. Even if she didn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings, he was certain this radioactive doll had his name all over her. Reserved especially for him. “Do me a favor. Since I’m agreeing to escort you.”
“Name it.”
“Kiss me.” He leaned close to the window to give her prime access.
“Why would I want to do that?” Suz’s blue eyes widened.
“Because I have nice lips. Or so I’ve been told. Pucker up, dollface.”
“I don’t pucker for anyone who calls me ‘dollface,’ unless you want me to look like I bit into a grapefruit. Now that kind of pucker may be available to you.”
He laughed. “So much sass, so little honesty.”
She sniffed. “I’m trying to save you, cowboy, not romance you. Don’t confuse this.”
“No kiss? I really feel like I need to know if you’re the woman of my dreams, if you’re determined to win me. And a kiss tells all.”
“Oh, wow.” Suz looked incredulous. “You really let that line out of your mouth?”
“Slid out easily. Come on, cupcake.” He closed some distance between her face and his in case she changed her mind. Strike while the branding iron was hot was a very worthwhile strategy. It was in fact his favorite strategy.
“If I kiss you, I probably won’t like it. And then what motivation do I have to win the race? I’d just toss you back into the pond for Daisy.”
He drew back, startled. “That wouldn’t be good.”
Suz nodded. “It could be horrible. You could be a wet kisser. Eww.”
“I really don’t think I am.” His ego took a small dent.
“You could be a licky-kisser.”
“Pretty sure I’m just right, like Goldilock’s bed,” he said, his ego somewhere down around his boots and flailing like a leaf in the breeze.
“I don’t know,” Suz said thoughtfully. “Friends don’t let friends kiss friends.”
“I’m not that good of a friend.”
“You really want a kiss, don’t you?”
He perked up at these heartening
