By the time I make it downstairs, they’re standing in the kitchen and talking. My heart gives a nervous lurch at the sight…until Ward hands me my travel mug, refilled. I retreat to the far side of the kitchen and lean against the counter to sip it.
Liam watches this as he lifts his mug and takes a drink. He’s dressed in sweats. “You need to get ready,” I tell him.
He nods but hesitates.
I know what he wants. He’s looking for any sign I’m relenting. “I love you,” I tell him, “but today isnotthe day to test my patience yet. You can give the boy one more kiss, then you need to get in the shower or you’ll be late.”
Naturally, I assume Liam’s going to grab him and really snog the hell out of him.
Instead, he kisses Ward on the forehead and whispers to him.
Ward’s eyes drop closed, squeezed tight, and he nods as Liam exits the kitchen.
Even I’m not enough of an asshole to stand there while the guy cries and not comfort him. I walk over and set my mug down then pull him into my arms.
“Thank you, Sir,” he whispers. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“What’d he say?” They don’t get to hide things from me. At some point, hopefully, I’ll be able to move into a more respectful mindset.
Not yet.
“He told me I was a good boy and that I was making him proud.”
Damn.
Here’s a US senator openly weeping in my arms because for the first time in twenty years, he’s hearing kind words.
I suck in a ragged breath and make myself say it, because I might be evil, but I’m not that evil. “You are being a good boy. You’re showing me that you’re trying. And you are making me proud, too.”
I close my eyes as Ward fists my jacket and tightly clings to me while he cries.
* * * *
That night, I go by Ward’s before heading home, and we talk for another two hours. I let Liam back into bed, but I stay way over on my side of it and don’t snuggle with him. I’m not ready to “discuss” things with him, let alone allow him into my pants yet.
I need time to…process.
Ward has set a date and time for our dinner with him and his wife. Until her return, I go by his place every night and talk with him.
I want toknowthe man.
Yes, there’s some fucking, and blowjobs, but I’m more interested in the uninterrupted talking. I can sneak sex with him at our place.
I can’t always sit down and talk to him without anyone else around.
Finally, the evening of our dinner arrives. I’m still only speaking the bare minimum to my husband right now. Hell, I’m talking more to Ward than I am to Liam.
I have a feeling Olivia isn’t going to like me or my husband, but that’s a her problem, not a me problem. Except I need to get a feel for her up close and personal, so to speak, in her native setting. Anyone can put on a happy face when out in public, where they think cell phones will catch their antics.
Especially if she’s a PR professional.
That’s why I wanted this to happen there, in her “territory.” Where we can see a more accurate level of WTFery from her. I also need to see how far I can push her before she pushes back, or if she pushes back.
Oh, I’m absolutely, an evil asshole.
I sense Liam’s growing unease as we prepare for our dinner.
“Problem?” I ask.
