“I meant you.”
“I know you did, but that would probably make Shae giggle if you draft Chris.” Jordan shakes his head. “At least we don’t need a dog or a cat,” he snarks. “Or even a tortoise.”
We both look at him, confused.
Jordan snorts and taps my forehead. “We don’t need a White House pet becauseyouare the White House pet.”
“He’s got a valid point.” Leo’s handsome smirk remains firmly in place. “Youarethe White House pet. Now comes the hard part.”
“Dealing with my family?”
“Picking his code name,” Jordan snarks.
I laugh. “Pillow?”
Leo arches an eyebrow. “Try again, pet.”
“Well, can’t call youPet. That would really get confusing.”
“Patience,” Jordan says and we both look at him. “Well, that orPastor, since we spend time on our knees for him. But that’s kind of close toPriestand the detail might not like that since Kev’s still getting protection.” He grins. “Or there’s alwaysPeacock.”
“Patience,” I say, staring into Leo’s eyes. “That’s perfect.”
Leo’s smirk is his amused one that means he’s going to do it because one of us suggested it, not necessarily because he’s all for it. “Patienceit is,” he quietly says.
It finally hits me that despite any future fallout with my parents, Ididit. Peace fills me as I tightly snuggle against Leo, my hand closing around Jordan’s. When I squeeze, Jordan squeezes back.
For the first time in over twelve years I can relax and let my men take care of me for these precious few hours we have alone together without worrying about excuses or justifications.
I can justbe.
And be with them.
CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT
Upon our returnto the White House I fight the urge to drag Leo and Jordan inside behind me. I manage to maintain my composure for the seemingly endless journey upstairs to the executive residence, where I ask all staff to clear out for the night and for Secret Service to pull back to their “discreet” posts.
We end up in the private living room where Leo locks the door behind us. “Both of you, stay here. Don’t move, don’t talk.” He literally jogs into the master bedroom, leaving Jordan and me standing there and staring at each other.
Jordan slides his hands into his pocket and straightens, looking sexy as fuck. How did I ever resist him in the beginning? His gaze meets mine and he smiles as he playfully waggles his eyebrows at me.
Somehow, I suppress my snort. I’m an incredibly lucky man to have two handsome, brilliant men loving me the way they do and watching my back.
Taking care of me.
Putting up with years of fear holding me hostage.
Leo returns a moment later, hurrying back to us. He’s carrying a towel and maybe something else but I can’t see the other items. “Follow me.” We immediately fall in step behind him.
I’ll follow him anywhere now that I’ve freed myself from my self-imposed prison.
Even the air tastes sweeter. My soul is…lighter.
Why did I hold back for so long?
Right—fear.
I’m not even worried about the fallout tomorrow, of which I’m sure there will be more rabidly vocal screeches from the GOP, conservative Blue Dog Democrats, and the idiot talking heads at FNB and Fox and others. Jordan assured me he and Casey-Marie will be on the phone first thing in the morning, talking to a few key GOP members of Congress with their own overflowing closets and ordering them to speak up in support of Elliot, or else.
