No, that’snotwhat I want.
I step across the void and snuggle in his arms. “I trust you,” I say, terrified to admit that. “I’ve never trusted someonelike I trust you, though. I’m trusting you with him, too. That he won’t betray me, or us.”
His breath feels warm against my scalp. “I won’t let you down, sweetie, and neither will he. I swear.”
“And you’ll still marry me?”
He tips my chin so I’m forced to look him in the eyes. “Why are you so scared to say it to me?”
I know what he means.
And he knows I know what he means.
I don’t want toadmit this, but I know I have to. We’re approaching a crucial juncture in our relationship. “Because I’ve never said it to anyone before. Not like that.”
He slants a gentle kiss across my lips, a tender, sweet one that bears no hint of the sadist who inhabits a considerable portion of his meat suit. “I do love you, Shae. I have room in my heart to love both of you. Have I ever broken your trustbefore?”
I shake my head. I wouldn’t be here with him now if he had.
He gathers me in his arms. “I believe in you. I trust you. If you want to run for Senate, I’ll still be here. If you want to run for POTUS, I’ll still be here. I’ve always let you come to me, emotionally, because I know you’ve got your own baggage. But you can’t do this alone, either way. You’re going to need a campaign managerand a chief of staff, regardless. So you need to tell me what role you want me to play in your life.”
I drag in a shaky breath. “I love you, too,” I whisper. “I want to run for president, and I want you to marry me.”
The earth doesn’t swallow me. Lightning doesn’t strike me dead.
My mother doesn’t rise from her grave and point an accusatory finger at me for forcing myself to follow her orders,fulfill the promise she extracted from me, and leaving me feeling like a horrible human being for it.
He smiles. “There. Wasthatso difficult?”
* * * *
After working through our pitch a couple of times, we agree to keep a few facets of our long-range plan concealed from Kevin to make it easier to maneuver him where we need him to go.
Like that we love each other.
That—I guess—we areinlovewith each other, in some way.
And that Chris is going to marry me before the general election, after he retires from the Secret Service.
With that settled, we return to the car and head to Kevin Markos’ home. His house looks like an exact opposite floor plan of mine from the outside, with a different color stucco, trim, and roofing shingles.
“How do you know he’s home?” I ask.
“He’s home.”He slowly nods as he stares at the house. “The other night, I went to your house with the real estate agent for a final walkthrough, and I stood at the back fence and peeked over. He was inside. TV was on. No car in the driveway then, either. He parks it in the garage. He’s got an SUV.”
“Ah.”
He looks at me, the sunglasses firmly in place. “Senator, are you ready?”
I suppress a shiver. “It’sfricking spooky you can shift modes like that,” I snark.
He grins. “Get used to it.”
He gets out and walks around to open my door for me. Now we’re in full character. Chris is in protective mode as he follows me up the walk to Kevin Markos’ front entry. He’s looking around, and any casual observers would automatically assume Secret Service from the suit, glasses, and mannerisms. It’s like he’sgrown six inches in height and two feet in shoulder width.
Idamnsure wouldn’t fuck with him.
I drawn in a deep breath and ring the door bell as Chris takes up a position behind me, his back to the door. I knew he was going to do this because he doesn’t want Kevin to recognize him until after he answers the door, and we’re afraid he might not answer it if he sees Chris.
