My sleep tonight is far from restful, full of nightmares, when my phone rings and startles me awake. It’s Casey’s custom tone, so I don’t even bother looking when I answer.
“Yes, Ma’am?”
At the sound of her sobbing, I’m immediately awake and sitting up. “Casey? What’s wrong?” My mind spins out a thousand other nightmares—the kids, George’s brothers, something. Ellen wasn’t close to her sisters, apparently. They’ll be there at the ceremony, but they’re all staying at a hotel tonight and the kids didn’t want to get together with them.
Casey’s trying to talk and can’t get it out. When she finally manages something that sounds like words, I’m sure I’ve misheard her. “What? Sweetheart, calm down. I can’t understand you.”
She sucks in a deep breath. “George! He’salive! He justcalledme!”
“He…” I process that. “What? Are you sure it’s—”
“Yes! Iknowit’s him! They found him and four others on a tiny little island. A commercial fishing ship rescued them. He’s alive, and he’s coming home! I talked to a government guy, too. It’s real, it’s not a hoax. It’s really him!”
She starts sobbing again. “I’m in my car. I just left their house. I had to tell the kids and Chase and Tyson. George called my cell. Mine was the only number he could remember. They just reached land a couple of hours ago. The memorial’s off. He asked us not to hold it until he’s back. Start making calls and cancel it.”
I hear her starting to pull herself together, Ma’am finally back in the house after weeks of grief. “We need to put out a press release, and we—”
“Casey,” I firmly say in Declan the attorney mode and pulling her up short. “It’sthreein the morning.” I’m already up and moving. “I’ll get dressed and come over and we’ll do this together so we can blast everything out ahead of the early news shows in Eastern time. I’ll do the on-air stand-ups for the local stations. Okay?”
“O-okay.” She starts crying again. “Dec, he’salive!”
I can’t deny I’m feeling a little misty-eyed right now, too. But this is…this is fuckinghuge. If Casey was in her right mind, she’d be processing it and understanding wehaveto move mountains in the next twelve hours. Because this is politicalplatinum, and we won’t even have to dig for it. It’s being dumped right in our laps.
For starters, we need to have the General Assembly vacate what they did and start over, declaring George the governor.
Because he is.
They’ll have to walk back everything a step, the line of succession.
And we need to hit this morning’s news shows hard and heavy first thing, declaring thatGovernorGeorge Forrester was rescued, so that public pressure is already leaning with crushing force on the General Assembly. They won’t dare try to fight us then.
“I know, sweetie,” I gently say. “He’s alive, but you’re now the chief of staff to the governor, and we need to get shit done. Including we need to get a court order,today, overturning his death certificate and get him back in the system.”
“Yeah.” She tearfully laughs. “You’re deputy chief of staff, by the way. Congratulations. My first hire.”
I chuckle. My Ma’am will return soon, but for now hearing the woman I love with all my heart laugh is a blessed thing I won’t ever forget. “Yes, Ma’am. I accept.”
I always knew this would be the case, but not that it would happen this soon in my life…or ever, after what happened. George had been noodling when to time his run for the office but hadn’t yet decided if it’d be this next cycle or the time after.
No time like the present, I suppose.
I grab a quick shower to wake me up and pack a couple of suits for later, because I can’t remember how many I have at Casey’s right now. Plus my work laptop, my personal laptop, both phones, and chargers for everything. For now, I’m in a T-shirt and sweats, but I’ll be dressed in a suit before I end up in front of a camera. I know it’ll be me because Casey’s in no shape to do the on-air stand-ups right now.
I throw everything into the backseat of my SUV and head out, pulling through an all-night McDonald’s for two large, black coffees to wake me up. Usually I prefer them with sugar and creamer, but my body needs the extra jolt to catch up with the mental and emotional jolt that woke me up.
I park in her garage when I get there, and as I walk into the kitchen, carrying everything, she runs into the room. She’s adorable, wearing her Snoopy PJs, and the kind of beaming smile I’ve never seen on her face before.
Ever.
I barely have time to set everything down before she’s jubilantly screaming at the top of her lungs, dancing in place and making me laugh before she launches herself at me. I catch her as she wraps herself around me, arms and legs, and kisses me, nearly sucking the air from my lungs.
Carrying her over to the counter so I don’t drop her, because she’s squirming so much, I hold her head still so I can kiss her.
Igetit.
This is a celebration, maybe all the sweeter for coming on the back of such a tragedy. Somewhere in all of that, our kissing takes on a frantic energy, needy, hungry. She starts shimmying out of her PJ bottoms and I shove the waistband of my sweats down. I take her right there on the kitchen counter, our wild energy needing an outlet, demanding release before it consumes both of us.
We both need it hard and deep right now. Like this, I manage to coax two out of her before I quit holding back and bury my cock in her one last time, filling her, falling still with our kisses growing sweet and tender.
