It’s two pictures, of the three of us standing there, holding each other—one before Owen leaned in close, one with his forehead and Carter’s touching.
Okay, now Iamcrying.
I look over to find Daddy smiling as he tucks his phone back in his pocket. Then he grabs his glass of iced tea and salutes me with it.
The big softy. Like Carter, Senator Evans is a bastard when in politician mode, but Daddy does have a gooey center, when he tries.
We hadn’t planned on going downstairs until ten-thirty at the earliest, which is what we’d told everyone.
So we wait, but with Carter sending word through Comms that we might go down earlier.
Nearly immediately, every channel starts running that update on their crawlers, or having their on-air reporters outright mention it. This race has been watched nationally, due mostly to my tale of survival, but, yes, also due to the fact that Owen’s an Independent.
The three of us step into the suite’s bedroom and, after Carter closes and locks the door behind us and pulls the curtains, he smiles and holds his arms open to us.
We both go, me kissing Owen first, and then Carter. Then Carter kisses Owen, and we all stand there, silent and…processing.
We did it.
We.
Fucking.
Did.
It.
Carter puts his hands on both our heads and draws us in, our foreheads all touching as he rubs our scalps.
“I love you both so fucking much,” he says, his voice sounding choked. “You two are amazing, and I’m the luckiest man on the face of the planet.”
It’s nearly enough to make me cry, seeing the bastard extraordinaire emotional and stripped bare like this to us right now.
“Love you, both,” I whisper.
“Loveyouboth,” Owen replies. Then he draws in a long, shaky breath and lets it out again.
Carter gently nudges me to hug Owen, and I do. “You’re brilliant,” I say. “You’re so damned amazing, boy, and you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world.”
Owen nuzzles his face against my neck. “I don’t give a shit what anyone says or thinks,” he says against my skin, “Iwillbe in that delivery room.”
“Of course you will,” Carter assures him, his arms around both of us again. “I’ve already got Dray working on our schedules to keep them light close to her due date, and to keep us all in Tallahassee.”
“Good.” Owen deeply inhales again, and I know he’s sniffing me, assuring himself I’mreallyreal and not a dream.
He does that a lot lately. Carter’s loosened up a little on the no-PDA rule. Ofcourseit’s natural for Owen to hug me, as my friend, especially after what I endured. Alotof people have been hugging me since my return.
We have a window of time where little things like this will not be exploited against us. I know that window will rapidly shrink at some future point, but for now, I will shamelessly enjoy it.
When we head downstairs at nine-thirty so Owen can give his victory speech, I stand between my men and hold both their hands. It’s only me, Owen, Carter, Dray, Gregory, and two troopers in the service elevator with us. We held everyone else back to follow, Carter once again citing me and my health. I’m not nearly as fragile as he portrays to the public, but we go with it.
They’ll all know the truth soon enough.
When the three of us march out onto that stage together, we’re still holding hands. The thunderous roar that greets us feels like a physical presence all around us, lifting us, cradling us.
Wedidit.
Carter turns his back to the audience to kiss me, then releases my hand and gives Owen a long, strong hug before he turns and, with his arm still around Owen’s shoulders, waves his other arm to egg the crowd on and get them cheering even louder for Owen.
