She peers up at me. “You didn’t?”
I shake my head and frown. “I couldn’t stop thinking about last night.”
She rolls her eyes, and her lips turn down. “Figures.”
“About what you said,” I correct her. “You thought I was trying to trap you and ruin your career. I felt like shit after that, Reagan.” I scoot a little closer, leaving very little space between us. “I take my reputation and honor very seriously. I’m not the type of man to ruin someone’s career. If I win this campaign, it’ll be fair and square. I’d never do anything to personally ruin you.”
“Sure,” she says and swallows hard. “That’s what you say now, but you’ll see.” She reaches for a coffee cup when the machine makes the last gurgle. “When it comes down to the wire, people will do anything to win.”
I lean to the side, bringing my mouth next to her ear. “Not me. I kissed you because I wanted to, not to hurt you.” I back away, putting just enough space between us to keep the prying eyes of the public, or worse, our campaign teams, happy and unaware.
“Jude,” she whispers without looking at me. “We can’t.”
“We did.” I smile.
She shakes her head and pulls the lever of the coffee pot, keeping her eyes glued to the liquid spilling into her cup. “Never again.”
“I’m not making that promise. That’s one I’d be more than happy to break.”
She turns toward me with parted lips and squeezes her eyes shut. “I mean it, Jude. This campaign is too important to me. We’re not friends.” When she opens her eyes, she says, “We’re nothing.”
“Reagan,” I say and start to reach out for her when Carl walks in, staring at his phone, and I pull my hand back quickly.
He glances up and looks between Reagan and me. “Ready?”
“Let me grab a cup of coffee first.”
“Have some on the bus. I already had the driver start the pot.” He shoves his phone in the front pocket of his gray suit and rubs his hands together. “Let’s go. You have a rally in one hour. We need to prep away from the competition.” He narrows his eyes at me, motioning toward the door with his head.
Reagan’s oblivious, staring at the wall behind the coffee pot as she sips her coffee.
“I’ll be right there, Carl,” I tell him, staring him down until he nods and leaves.
“I hope you have a good day, Reagan. I look forward to the next time I see you,” I tell her without any recognition from her. I lean into her space until she glances at me out of the corner of her eyes. “And for your information…” I lower my voice with my lips almost touching her ear. “By the way you kissed me back, we’re something, whether you’ll admit it to yourself or not.”
She’s holding her breath when I back away and stare at her before walking out. Reagan Preston is under my skin, but I know she feels everything I do. She felt the connection last night. She wanted it just as much as I did.
Who am I lying to?
I still want it.
One touch of her lips wasn’t enough.
“What doyou think of your opponent?” The reporter shoves the microphone closer to my face.
“Mr. Solomon is a man with limited experience, more limited than mine. I’ve led men into battle.” I scan the group of reporters as they hang on my every word, holding their recorders and microphones close to me and jockeying for position. “Sonny’s experience is limited to being a prison guard and serving as a small-town mayor. I’m not sure he realizes the gravity of the job he’s running for, and the tenacity it will take to be successful at it.”
“And what about Representative Preston?” a different reporter asks, jabbing her recorder forward.
I swallow roughly and clench my fists at my sides. “Representative Preston has experience at the state level, but she comes from a political family. Stan Preston wants his daughter to go to Washington to get special favors. She’s a genuine person, but she doesn’t have enough real-world experience outside of politics to understand the plight of the little person.”
My stomach’s turning because I know the statement I just made will get back to Reagan. There isn’t anything I said that isn’t true, but that doesn’t make it okay. It’ll hurt her feelings, but it’s politics. There’s no room for feelings when you’re trying to be victorious. Only one of us can win, and I’d prefer if it were me.
Carl steps in front of me. “No more questions right now. If you’d like to do an interview with Mr. Titan, feel free to contact the press coordinator for the campaign,” he tells them before they scurry away.
“Did I do something wrong?”
He shakes his head and smiles. “It was perfect. You’ve given them enough of your time. We have to get on the road.” He glances at his watch and does a mental calculation with his eyes bouncing around. “If we leave now, we won’t make it to the next city before nightfall.”
