Chapter 4

Sierra stared up at Joe from her ungainly position in the mud puddle. Joe had been laughing at her predicament for a solid minute now and showed no signs of ceasing.

"It is not that funny," Sierra said.

"Yes it is," he insisted.

He splashed through the puddle towards her in his hiking boots and blue jeans. His dark eyes were alight with mirth. He held out his hand to her. She didn't take it.

"Will you let me help you up?"

Grudgingly, Sierra accepted his outstretched hand. As he tried to pull her up, her feet slipped out from under her again. She fell back in the mud, this time pulling Joe down with her. He landed with his hands down on either side of her, holding his body an inch above hers. Sierra found herself suddenly very aware of the way his t-shirt clung to every muscle on his chest, then did her very best to banish the thought. His hair brushed her face. He hovered there just a moment longer than necessary before launching himself gracefully to his feet. This time, he managed to pull her up out of the mud.

"You're a very stubborn and persistent woman, you know that?" he asked her.

Sierra glared at him.

"Do you have a problem with persistent women?" she asked.

"No, I meant it as a compliment. I should hire you as my campaign manager."

"I think I'll pass, thank you," she said coldly.

"Now why can't you be nice to me, Sierra? I'm a nice guy."

"I very much doubt that." she replied. "How long have you known I was following you?"

"Only for the last few miles," he answered. "I can't believe you tried to follow me in that."

"Where were you going?"

Joe sighed.

"Ever the reporter, aren't you?"

"I prefer investigative journalist."

"Yes. I read your last piece of hard-hitting journalism. Your review of Guardians of the Galaxy was quite moving."

Sierra glared at him as she tossed her mud filled shoes into the car. Mud splattered all over the backseat.

"At least I don't steal from charity," she snapped back.

"Is that what you think of me?" He gave her an over-dramatic, wounded look. It lasted about two seconds before the grin cracked through. "You know, you should be nicer to me."

Sierra scoffed as she dug through her glovebox for something to clean her hands with. "Any particular reason why?"

"Because if you're nice, I'll help you get this ridiculous car unstuck."

Sierra weighed her options. On the one hand, she was loath to accept his help. On the other, she wasn't sure what she was going to do without it.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked.

He smiled.

"Maybe it's because I like persistent women," he said with a wink.

He moved around the back of the car and braced himself to push.

"Climb in and give it a little gas."

Sierra sat down in the driver's seat. She could see him reflected in the mirror, leaning against the car. He was infuriatingly gorgeous even covered in mud. He might have even been especially gorgeous covered in mud. He flashed her another flirtatious smile that she met with a scowl. Shaking her head, she cranked the engine on and gave it a little gas. She watched him continue to push on the car without result. Then, as she gave it a little more gas, he moved his arms down and-

He lifted the car.

No, that was crazy. But the car lurched forward and the back wheels slammed back into the ground as it pulled free of the bog. She turned the car around and steered around the puddle, having already convinced herself that the feeling of being lifted up was just the wheels pulling out of the mud. She must have been startled by the movement and thought… never mind. It was crazy.

She stopped the car next to him and rolled down the window.

"Thank you," she said.

He pretended to tip his imaginary hat to her, dripping with charm.

"Always happy to help a damsel in distress. Even if she is a reporter."

"Yeah, that's definitely the kind of thing an innocent person would say."

Joe let out a bark of laughter. "Forget campaign manager. Maybe I should make you my publicist."

Sierra met his eyes determinedly. "You know this 'damsel' is still going to nail you for whatever you're up to out here."

"I have an alternative suggestion," he countered. "Why don't you let me take you to dinner and I'll tell you all about it? Some time when we're not covered in mud."

Dinner? Was she being asked out by the governor? Or was this just a ploy to distract her from the real issue? Her hormones, betrayed her, conjuring images of his eyes by candle light over hors devours and white table cloths. Against her better judgment and she found herself telling him "yes" before she even really knew the word was going to come out of her mouth. Worse, she'd answered fast.

"Great," Joe said, a cocky glint in his eyes. "How's Friday? I'll pick you up at seven."

The next thing she knew she was headed back down the dirt road towards home, Joe's Range Rover following closely behind to make sure she didn't get stuck again. She was trying to convince her brain that her decision to go on a date with the governor had been a purely analytical business decision. When they got back to the paved road Joe waved to her out the window as he headed back to wherever he was going. She fought the impulse to turn around and try to follow him again, not being convinced in the least that he had any intention of telling her what he was really doing.

Sierra headed down the road, looking for Molly. It was only then that she realized something and let out an audible groan.

Molly was going to be completely insufferable about this.