Literally.
I have a chance to be the chief of staff to the president of the United States, if I can get her elected. Which…
I’m pretty confident I can do.
It’llreallypiss my father off if I get her elected. He’ll be green with envy, knowing the power and influenceIwield, that people will respectme, that everyone who knows him and has worked with him will knowhisson helped aDemocratget elected.
The daughter of his avowed enemy.
He won’t be able to ignore my existence, and I’ll have the perfectly logical excuse that I’m too busy to give him any of my time.
“Yes,” I say. “We do this.” He lets me pull him in for another long, sweet kiss that makes mewant to drop to my knees and fish his cock out to suck it.
I love how he nuzzles his lips over mine. “You won’t regret this,” he promises.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m already regretting this,” I admit, “but let’s do it anyway. I can’t go back on the air for a network for two years. If nothing else, it’ll be a paying job.”
More sexy nuzzles, nipping, teasing. “Just think,” he adds. “If she losesthe election, your non-compete will have expired and networks will be busting downyourdoor.”
“Then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“If she loses, which… I mean, seriously, if I’m doing this, I’m doing it towin. But if she loses, then what? You’re stuck married to her?”
He shrugs, smiling. “A quiet annulment a few months later, maybe. Unless she wants to try running again in four years and you’reokay with that.”
This darker reality slices through the quickly thickening tendrils of subspace trying to yank me under. I press a hand to his chest to pull him up short. “Chris, hold up. What’s the alternate plan?”
He’s still trying to kiss me. “If she loses, I can get an annulment, and then you and I will get married. I’ll have my pension and will probably go into private security consulting,which pays damn well.”
I blink, staring at him. “You’d do that?”
“Do what?”
“Marry me?”
He lets out a sigh before his hands seek my right hand. He brings it up to his lips, where he kisses the ring he put there, lower still, to the bracelet I wear on that wrist.
Then he presses my palm against his cheek and meets my gaze. I feel the rasp of afternoon stubble against my palm. My hands aresofter than his, no calluses from hours on the firing range, or wrapped around a steering wheel and working on his tactical driving skills, or pulling himself up ropes and over obstacles on a training course.
“I’vealwaysbeen married to you,” he quietly says. “Even though I didn’t fully realize it until I had you back. That’s why I never got married. That’s why every ‘permanent’ relationshipI tried to have died on the vine. That’s why what I have with Shae has lasted as long as it has—because she doesn’tneedme full-time, and she never demanded my heart. But sheneedsyou. She loses status as a viable candidate if people think it’s her husband running the show for her, and you couldn’t be her chief of staff if you’re married to her. Sheneedsyou. Shelovesyou. And my best contributionis to take the role of her husband, so the man whoreallyowns our girl can be in full control the way heshouldbe.”
“Oh.” It comes out a whisper, because his words have stolen my breath every bit as much as his deepest, fiercest kisses usually do.
He cups my face in his hands. “You’remine, Kev. And I’myours. Shae never wanted kids, and the only place she wanted me taking charge is in thebedroom. She’s never made a secret of being married to her job and her dreams. Do I love her? Sure. She’s my friend, my submissive, myresponsibility. Do I have romantic feelings for her? Again, yes. I’d be a cold, heartless bastard if I didn’t.
“But when it comes to owningmyheart? That’salwaysbeen yours. I don’t begrudge it if you’re in love with her, or if she’s in love with you. Becauseabove everything else, Itrustyou, and her. She trusts you and me, too.”
My mind has to spin things out, the future. “She gets elected,” I say. “Two terms. I stay the full time as chief. Eight years, she’s out. Then what?”
He shrugs, smiling. “You tell me.”
It’s strange…but the more I think about it, about that exact scenario, the more wrong it feels to make them get divorced just so I canmarry Chris.
Because I start to think about eight years out—which would be ten by then that we’d been together.
“We can all stay together after that?” I ask.
