Geneva gave me a once-over as I slipped on my Ariat Fatbaby boots with the ostrich skin toes. Wouldn’t be prudent to wear a gun, although I felt half naked without one.
“Do I pass your inspection, campaign boss?”
“Part of me says no, because it’s too casual. Part of me says yes, you look amazing, and I don’t think my ego can handle seeing you in dress clothes.”
My head snapped up. A compliment? From Geneva?
She smirked. “Shocked I have a civil side to my tongue?”
“Uh-huh. That and the fact no one’s called me amazing in a long damn time.”
Except Dawson had a few nights ago. He’d murmured, “You are amazing, Mercy,” as he’d kissed every inch of my skin. Dammit. I didn’t want to think about Dawson and what my active campaigning for his job would do to our relationship.
What relationship? It’s just sex, right?
“Mercy? You okay?”
I looked at her, guiltily, I’m sure. “Sorry. Just thinking about something else.”
“Let’s go.”
Geneva drove a minivan, which didn’t bother me. She drove like Mad Max on meth, which did bother me. It occurred to me, as I white-knuckled the dash, that if I was elected sheriff, I’d have to cite her for speeding.
Too bad I didn’t have the damn badge and ticket book right now. But I gritted my teeth, trying not to look at the speedometer. Or the road whizzing past. Or how she fiddled with the climate-control buttons instead of keeping both hands on the wheel.
“Mercy, I need to ask you something.”
“If it’s about my military service, there are some things I can’t discuss.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
She blurted, “Are you a lesbian? I don’t care if you are, I mean, I’ll still love you… but not in that way. It’s just… well, you’ve never been married, you’ve never talked about any kind of long-term relationship. Then you’re into guns and all that macho military stuff, and you haven’t dated anyone since you’ve been home. Now Anna shows up and your relationship with her seems really… close.”
Maybe keeping my encounters with Dawson a secret hadn’t been a smart move. If I’d piqued Geneva’s curiosity about my sexual orientation, did the rest of the county question it, too? My petulant side wondered if Dawson’s marital status would be called into question. Would Dawson admit he was in a relationship?
What relationship? It’s just sex, right?
Seemed my brain, pissed off by the alcohol-induced pounding headache, had decided on that theme today.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It’s none of my business-”
“Of course it’s your business. But don’t worry that a former female lover will step forward during the campaign and out me, because I’m not gay.”
Geneva turned her head and looked at me. “You’re not?”
“No.” She’d drifted completely into the other lane. “For Christsake, Gen, keep your eyes on the road.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” When she swerved back into the proper lane, I swear the wheels left the pavement.
Jesus. I could not watch the woman drive. “Out of pure nosiness, we’ve been friends forever. You’ve known me longer than anyone. Did you really think all of a sudden I might be batting for the other team?”
She rolled her eyes. “You pointed out to me last summer how much I didn’t know about you, and that I never knew you as well as I thought I did, so it’s a legit question, Mercy.”
“True.”
“Besides, you never talk about this kind of girly shit with me. So I don’t have any idea if you’ve been in any serious relationships.”
“A few. My inability to have kids is a big issue. If things became more than a fling, I’d ’fess up and most guys walked away. No big loss. I focused on the career I loved and kept all relationships casual. Men have come and gone. Some stayed longer than others, but they’ve all moved on.”
“I didn’t ask to be nosy.”
“Yes, you did.”
Geneva laughed. “Also true.”
“But know what’s funny? I have been seeing someone since I moved back here.”
Dumb move, Gunderson.
What had possessed me to share that secret? It didn’t feel like I was trying to give Geneva back the trust she’d lost with me; it felt like I was offering her proof that I wasn’t a lesbian.
“Really? Who?”
I didn’t answer.
Geneva mulled over the possibilities.
When she hit the brakes and we skidded to a stop on the shoulder, I knew she’d figured it out. Damn good thing my seat belt worked.
“Please tell me it’s not Dawson.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“Can’t tell you it’s not Dawson, when it is him.”
Geneva flat-out gaped at me. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Mercy, you’ve been screwing around with the sheriff?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How long?”
“Off and on since last summer.”
“Even after he arrested you?”
“The irony is we’d been together before he arrested me.” Even I knew how freaky that sounded.
“Who else knows?” she demanded.
“John-John, only because he overheard something he shouldn’t have. I doubt Dawson’s told anyone. We’ve kept it private, for obvious reasons.” I felt her gaze burning into me, and I found the guts to look at her. She wasn’t mad; she wore a look of pity. That got my hackles up. “What?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Running against him? Because you asked me to.”
“Mercy, you know that’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t know, okay? When we’re alone and everything is good-great actually-I can forget who he is. But when it comes to him doing his job, I compare him to what my dad did as sheriff. Then I wonder what the hell I’m doing with a man who doesn’t measure up.”
Geneva was quiet, which drove me batshit crazy.
“Jesus, Gen, what?”
“Hate to burst your bubble, but Wyatt Gunderson wasn’t a saint. However, Dawson did measure up, or else your dad wouldn’t have given him his endorsement for sheriff.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“I’ve known you a long time, Mercy, and you’re damn good at self-sabotage.”
I faced her. “Are you talking about what happened with Jake?”
She poked me in the arm. “See? More’n twenty years have passed by and you still haven’t gotten over it. Stop using your one bad long-term relationship as an excuse. And for God sake, stop comparing all men to your dad. It’s really kind of twisted.”
I hated that she had a point.
“So why did you come out of the closet to me about your relationship with Dawson, Mercy?”
“Your job as my campaign manager is to keep me focused on the issues. Make certain that I keep whatever weird fucking thing I feel for Dawson out of my decision-making process. I’m doing what’s right for the county, not for myself.”
Geneva eased the car back on the road. Her silence bothered me more than her constant chattering. When I couldn’t stand the silence any longer, I snapped, “Spit it out before you choke on it.”
“Speaking as your campaign manager? I’ll do everything to help you get the win you deserve. But speaking as your friend? My heart is breaking for you and the decision you’ve made to put duty ahead of your personal life again.” She careened into the library parking lot and screeched to a stop. “I accused you of being selfish last summer. Christ. You can’t know how that eats at me, Mercy, because I see how wrong I was. You’ve given everything for everyone else. You deserve something good for yourself.”
How was I supposed to respond to that?
Luckily, I didn’t have to. Kiki knocked on the window and tapped her watch.
“We’re late. Come on, candidate Gunderson, your committee awaits you,” Geneva said, and the matter was closed.
For now. But she’d given me a lot to think about, none of it campaign related.