And it has to wait until I secure the presidency for my candidate.My husband.And he needs to know everything before the world does.
Speaking of Darcy, he motions from the elevator for me to follow him, so I plug my nose to walk past the weed room again and join him right as the elevator dings open. After we step in, I have the briefest thought of what an elevator kiss would be like. The books and movies say it’s exhilarating, wild, and passionate, but Idoubt I’ll ever get to be alone with Darcy on an elevator because agents guard us 24-7 when we are away from Ophelia Estate. I bet it would be one hot kiss though…
Heat creeps up my face at the thought, and I turn away from Darcy so he won’t notice. I fan myself lightly, which captures his attention.
Covering the microphone on his phone, he whispers, “Are you hot?”
I wink and mouth back, “Hot for you.”
His pale skin turns a brilliant red as he eyes his agents standing in front of us before returning to finish his call.
We reach the lobby, and Darcy marches us to the front desk. He informs them of the situation and requests a new room. His tone is not unfriendly, but it’s not what I would call warm, either. It’s his stoicism that gets in the way. His autism. I bet he would make tons of friends if he simply learned to smile and inflect his voice when talking with people, but then again, who he is has grown on me like a thorn on a rose.
He does it well—the friendly masking—at rallies and dinner parties and during interviews. But away from cameras? The man acts like his life was made of lemons and sour candies.
Good thing I like sour.A grin stretches across my face as I fold my arms, looking my husband over.What if?What if we could really turn to the same page for once and crawl into the lines between the words that are black and white? What if he let me into the depths of his being, to a place he doesn’t fully understand? The peeks I get have me on my knees begging for more.
Because the more I watch him and listen to what he isn’t saying, the more I grow to appreciate him for who he is. Sour and all.
What if I open my cages and allowed him in to the dark undulating beneath the surfaces of my sunshine?
“Here.” Darcy extends a room key card to me, effectively breaking me from my thought-trance. “It’s not a nice suite like we had, but it will do.”
I take the key. “Anything is better than that awful smell.”
The receptionist profusely apologizes to me, but Darcy cuts her off. “It’s okay. We will be on our way now.”
“I plan to vote for you,” she hollers after us in a southern accent.
“Thank you for your vote and support.” I wave to her before Darcy grabs my arm and hauls me toward the elevator. The thought of the elevator brings back the former thoughts of kissing him, but security files in and I contemplate how to get him alone on this thing by the end of the night.
We take the elevator up to the new room, which isn’t on the top floor like the other one. With hesitancy, I swipe the key card and nudge the door open.
Sweet, deliciously clean air.
Security stops me and says they should check the room out first and apologizes for not doing so before. I think it’s a bit much, but whatever makes them feel better. Within seconds, they come back out and give us an all-clear.
I enter the room. Darcy follows behind me. And we both stop once we see the entirety of the room: one queen bed, a sofa chair, and a desk.
That’s it.
Darcy swallows beside me, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. My face must look sunburnt; it’s blazing hot.
Because Darcy and I will be sharing a bed tonight.
It’s the first time we’ve stayed in a hotel together since we’ve confessed to wanting to try this relationship out for real.
And since we’ve started dating, the images curated inside my head are not PG-13.
And since we’re technically married, I wonder if I’ll be able to control this wild desire like I desperately need to do.
Lord, give me strength not to jump my husband’s bones.
“I can sleep on the floor,” Darcy says. I finally look at him.
“No, you need to rest. You have the rally tomorrow. I’ll take the floor.”
He raises his dark blond eyebrows. “I can’t let my wife sleep on the floor.”
