Page 92 of Innocent


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“Has anything happened since I left that I need to know about tonight? Any developments between you and Leo? Or between Leo and anyone else?” I hate asking that last question and fear the answer to it.

“No, Sir. Just what I told you earlier.”

Relief swirls through me as I reach out and stroke his hair. “Stress about declaring getting to you?”

He nuzzles my hand. “Yes, Sir.” His stubble warmly rasps against my palm.

I won’t bother reminding him tonight that there’s no law that says hehasto declare and run. That there’s no shame in not running for POTUS, returning to Nebraska, and running for the House again, or Senate, or even governor. Or entering the private sector, if he wishes.

Except if he did that, where would that leaveme?

Which is a stupid-ass thought to have right now, I know, but there it is.

The Senate’s currently in session, but with the existing ratios, there’s about as much chance of him needing to break a tie vote as there is of me sprouting wings and singing like Freddie Mercury in the National Cathedral.

“What’s tomorrow’s schedule? I mean,today’sschedule.”

His eyes drop closed as he presses his cheek more firmly into my hand. “I’m here until two in the afternoon. I asked the household staff not to come in until after I leave. To the White House to work for several hours, then I have dinner and a speech at eight at the National Press Club. Return to the residence probably between eleven and midnight.”

Shit. “Tux?” I have a basic tux, but I don’t know what kind of shape it’s in. I don’t think I had it cleaned after the last time I wore it. I honestly can’t remember. I dumped it, garment bag and all, into one of the suitcases. Thank god I grabbed all my shoes.

Finally, the hint of a smile. “No, Sir. You won’t need a tux for a couple of weeks.”

A little relief fills me. “Okay, good.” I scratch his head and watch the way he leans toward me.

I step closer so he can relax against my thighs. In the still of the house, I can hear the stubble on his cheeks softly rasping against the fabric of my slacks.

“Is getting me into the event tomorrow night going to be a problem?”

“No, Sir. I had them account for a plus-one.”

“Ahh. A little cocky, huh?”

“Hopeful, Sir.” He opens his eyes and tips his head back enough he can look me in the eyes. “I wasveryhopeful.”

Yeah, I gotta admit, that tweaks those lonely points in my soul even harder. “How long have you been planning this?”

“A few weeks. The trip was already planned. I just…modified the itinerary a little.”

“And yet you didn’t talk to Leo about it. Interesting. Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if he’d tell me no or not. This way, I’m not disobeying him.”

That spawns a lump in my throat, that Elliot would risk pissing off Leo and alienating him to bring me on board.

I struggle to keep my tone light. “Forgiveness instead of permission, boy?”

“He’s always told me that I need to own our relationship. Him and me.” Elliot seems at a loss for words, but I don’t interrupt or break the silence. “That he has no interest in forcing me to be with him. That I have to tell him what I want from him. I want him to behappy. I don’t know how to make him happy anymore doing what we’re doing.

“Youmade him happy. I honestly believe if I let go and trust you, you’ll make me happy, too, because he’ll be happy.” He sighs. “Or, maybe you’ll make me happy the way you made him happy. I don’t know.”

I sense we’re in dangerous territory. “People can’tmakeother people happy, boy.”

“But they can do things that make other peopleunhappy. I know you’re an honest man, a man of integrity. A trustworthy man. I was terrified when you left. Whether or not you’d talk. But when I realized you weren’t going to sell your story to the highest bidder, I felt relieved. Then I felt ashamed that here Leo stayed because of me, and I still wasn’t giving anything to him in return. I admit I’ve got a lot of fear, andthisis my first step toward trying to overcome that fear. I trust Leo, and I trust you. I have to start working on this somewhere. I want this to work.”

Fear of my own flitters through my soul. “So, what happens if, at the end of ten years, you’ve overcome your fear and you’ve learned how to be happy? Does that mean no room for me?”

He looks me dead in the eyes. “It means that, hopefully, we’ve long since mastered fooling the public so they don’t know we’re a poly triad and that I belong toyou, Sir.”