Aubrey scoffs. “Didn’t mean it when they said they loved you, though, did they?”
This is his favorite thread to pull. The insult he always goes to. The one that doesn’t sting nearly as much as he wants it to because it offers the reassurance I can’t find in his brooding stares or fake smiles. Relief is a victorious trickle down my throat and into the pit of my stomach where the constant worry that the truth of my reconciliation with Cal and Beck has been revealed lives.
“Did you?” I toss back just as the song ends. The opening chords of the Marine Band’s next selection start almost immediately, leaving little time for me to spin out of Aubrey’s arms and into those of President Tao who, unlike my husband, seems reluctant to let his wife go. He watches her and Aubrey closely, barely sparing me a glance even as he maneuvers us around the dance floor with ease.
“You must think me terribly rude,” he muses after a full minute of silence. Since he’s a few inches shorter than me, I have to look down to meet his eyes.
“Not at all, Mr. President.”
“Hana always gets nervous when she’s left alone to deal with unfamiliar men,” he explains, splitting his attention between his wife and me. Since he doesn’t seem to need an actual response from me, I hum an acknowledgment and turn my attention back to the room, hoping to find Cordelia somewhere in the crowd. Just as I find her—in a corner arguing with a distressed-looking Jordan—President Tao whirls me around.
“You don’t seem to share my beloved’s fear.”
“Are you someone I need to be afraid of?” I ask with an arched brow.
“Certainly not, Mrs. Taylor.” Eyes the color of coal dance with humor and a hint of something close to cruelty. “I simply thought you’d be more wary of strange men after your unfortunate experience during the election.”
It’s probably the clumsiest segue I’ve encountered yet, but I know an attempt to transition into questions about my kidnapping when I see one. Since I’m not feeling particularly chatty tonight, I play dumb.
“I’m not sure what experience you’re referring to.”
People have this funny way of painting you as the asshole when they’re trying to fish for information they aren’t entitled to and you make them do all the heavy lifting. President Tao, who I’m sure is used to getting exactly what he wants before he even asks for it, is unfortunately no different.
“Your experience with Jacob Marsh, of course.”
“Oh, you mean when I was abducted, beaten, berated and almost executed on national television?That experience?”
His jaw unhinges, opening and closing as he flounders for a response. I don’t wait for him to find it, choosing instead to haltmy steps and leave him with no choice but to do the same. I’m aware of the cameras on us, capturing a moment that will surely be on the nightly news and in the morning paper with God only knows what kind of headlines, but I don’t care.
“Jacob Marsh didn’t make me afraid of men, Mr. President. Like your beloved, I learned to be afraid of them as a young girl. I was warned about the kind man, the honorable man, the man who believes himself good even when his actions say otherwise. The man who would drag someone else’s trauma out into the light for his own dark entertainment and play victim when confronted with the ugliness of what he’s asked for. That is the kind of man I’m wary of, and as I’m sure Hana can tell you, those men aren’t always strangers. Oftentimes, they’re familiar. Husbands. Fathers. Elected officials who depend on their power to give them a pass.”
I step back, forcing him to relinquish his hold as a million flashes erupt around us. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not in the mood to hand out any of those tonight.”
Knowing I’ve ruined something that can’t be fixed or smoothed over if I’m around, I make a beeline for the exit, ignoring the appalled looks and murmurs rippling through the crowd as I pass by. My first full breath doesn’t come until I’m at the end of the long entryway that leads into the tent. The sweet, fragrant smell of grass from the perfectly manicured South Lawn tickles my nostrils, and I gulp down greedy lung fulls as I step into the warm night. I should stop here, should wait for Agent Shaw or Morgan or someone else from my detail to catch up with me, but I keep moving, wandering aimlessly until I’m standing in front of the entrance to the Oval that’s being guarded by the only faces I actually want to see tonight.
Beck spots me first, brows wrinkled in confusion as he steps away from his post.
“What are you doing here?”
Cal is next, moving out of the shadows and into the light to give me the gift of his adoring, yet worried, gaze. “What happened? Where’s Shaw?”
“I don’t know, and nothing happened. I just?—”
It’s been so long since I’ve found myself alone with both of them, I can’t seem to string a coherent sentence together. Everything in me is screaming for their touch, pleading for their kiss, demanding I close the space between us immediately.
And that’s what I do.
I grab Beck’s hand, squeezing his fingers tight as I walk towards Cal and bring him with me. Cal’s arms open instantly, and I can’t tell if I’ve collided with him or if he’s used the vice grip he has on my waist to yank me into him. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the hard lines of his body are pressed against my front while Beck’s heat melts me from behind.
“You can’t be here,” Cal murmurs, his lips grazing mine in a ghost of a kiss.
I rise up on my tiptoes, chasing his mouth. “But I am.”
Beck’s hands are layered over Cal’s at my waist. He’s linked their fingers together, so I’m locked in an impossible strong hold I never want to be free from. My heart slams against my ribcage, joy singing through my blood at the layered contact. This is all I ever want. They are all I ever want.
Impatient with Cal’s teasing, I cup the back of his head in my hand and bring him down to me for a searing kiss that he takes over immediately. Ceding control has always been hard for me, but it never is with them. I give myself over to Cal, parting my lips to clear a path for his tongue while my body sags into Beck. He’s moved to the other side of my neck now, running his nose over my racing pulse. A low growl escapes his throat when I roll my ass into the hardened length of his erection.
“Fuck.”
