I return to the White House with Shae, even though I could go home. I want to put eyes on the kids for myself, and when I check on Chris and Kev, I want to be able to tell Chris I personally walked Shae into the residence.
And I want to see if Elliot is still on-site in his office. Because if he is?
I need to hug him.
I need to put not only eyes, buthandson him.
I need to hold my pet for a moment, and I’m reasonably certain he needs that, too.
Him, and Jordan, although I know Jordan’s already safely made it home, because he texted me.
Yes, he took a cab. I would have blistered his ass in a bad way if he hadn’t. Especially after today’s events.
Despite having full clearance to come and go from Elliot’s residence, I try not to go there alone when it could trigger uncomfortable questions. We’re supposed to be friends and coworkers and don’t want to draw undue attention to my visits.
Rather,Elliotdoesn’t want attention drawn to my visits.
I have to—and will—respect that.
Even when I really don’t want to and wish I could scream to the world that he’s mine, and how much I love him.
With the media circus today, there might be dozens or more cameras and cell phones outside the gates of Elliot’s residence to capture my arrival and departure. Or even drones. It’s difficult for Secret Service to keep up with advancements like that. It only takes one money-shot photo to create a scandal.
We takeMarine Oneto the White House and I follow President Samuels inside the building after we touch down on the south lawn. She’s pulled herself together since her earlier and completely understandable breakdown in private onAir Force One.
I escort her upstairs, where the kids are still awake with their nanny, Yasmine. After giving the kids hugs—and one last hug for Shae—I head downstairs and walk over to the West Wing.
Elliot’s alone in his office. He looks up when I step inside and close and lock the door behind me. Passion flares in his blue eyes before he carefully schools his expression. We haven’t had much alone time lately.
“How’s Kev?” he asks. “Did he wake up yet?”
“Not yet. They think he’ll be okay but the next couple of days will tell for sure.” I slide my hands into my pockets and stand there, watching him.
Waiting.
In some ways, he’s like an easily spooked horse. His nostrils flare and his hands flex like he’s going to clench them before they relax again.
The way he nervously swallows.
“I want to come over tonight.” I think about him alone in that huge house and it breaks my heart.
It doesn’t have to be like that.
He doesn’t have to be alone.
Especially not tonight.
His chest hitches slightly, a catch in his breath. “I…I don’t know about tonight.”
“I could ride with you and ask for a lift later from another agent. Considering today’s events, no one will question it.”
He wants me to do that, or for me to order him to do it. I see it painted across his face, fear mixed with need and desire.
But tonight, hehasto be the one to ask me for it.
I step closer, rounding his desk, so close he has to look up at me from where he’s sitting.
“Askme, pet,” I whisper. “Just ask. That’sallyou have to do.Please.”
