Pulling it open, I’m met with his handsome face. He grins and steps inside, closing the door behind him. Our lips meet immediately, like there’s no other way, and I sigh softly into his mouth.
“I’ve missed you,” I whisper, feeling his lips work over mine.
“I’ve missed you.”
He takes my hand and leads me in the living room. I follow, but the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
We sit on the sofa and he looks at me and I know everything is not, in fact, okay. His eyes are filled with concern, his shoulders rigid, waiting on some assault I have no idea how to identify.
My stomach free-falls into an abyss.
“Did you see the news today?” he asks, his words careful.
“No. Why?”
His head bows slightly, his eyes going to the floor, before he looks at me again. “Fucking Hobbs.”
“What did he say?”
Barrett’s jaw clenches, his temple pulsing with frustration. I’m terrified by the look in his eye—one not directed at me, but it doesn’t matter. He’s ready to go unleashed.
“I’m going to cut to the chase,” he gulps, looking away again. “He basically used you to get at me.”
“What?” I say, shooting to my feet. My heart races, my mind going right along with it.
“He used your past—the assault, the investigation—to undermine me. To say that I was being careless and making bad decisions.”
“Oh my God,” I say, my hand going to my mouth. “I’m so sorry, Barrett. I . . .”
He sits on my sofa, his head in his hands. His fingers clench strands of hair and tug roughly. The suit stretching across his back is taut, a hint of the stress his body is holding beneath. He’s been under so much pressure and now my past has added to the mix.
“I’m sorry,” I start again but am quieted with one look from him.
“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t even apologize for that asshole.”
“I’m not apologizing for him. I’m apologizing that I had anything to do with you being skewered.”
A chuckle rumbles through the room. “Baby, I’m not worried about me. If anyone wants to believe that me being with you is a bad thing, then so be it.”
“Barrett . . .” My mouth opens to speak, but I can’t, and when his lips find mine, everything that needs to be said is. His kisses show me more than his words could ever express. I tell him right back, show him as passionately as he shows me, and by the time we break our connection, we’re both panting.
His forehead rests against mine, his lips starting to twitch. Mine follow suit and slowly, our smiles encourage the other’s until we both have wide grins on our faces.
Giggling, I wrap my arms around his trim waist and try to quiet the chaos in my mind. I don’t know what this means or what’s in store, but I know it’s true. I love him. And I think he loves me.
“I’m okay with staying in the shadows,” I say. “At least until the election is over.”
He jerks away from me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your campaign. I don’t want to cause you any trouble, Barrett. I know where we stand. Don’t think you have to go defend me or ha—”
“Stop,” he commands. “We know where we stand. I don’t give a fuck what anyone has to say about it.”
“But . . .”
“For the first time in my life, I know, without a doubt, without a single shred of hesitation, that this, you and me, is the right thing. And if that makes me lose the election, then it does. As long as you’re okay with me continuing it, they can say what they want.”
“I want you to finish it. I want you to win it on your terms. To prove to yourself you can do it your way.”
He kisses me again. “If it’s too much for you to deal with me during this, I understand.”
“I just don’t want to cause you problems.”
His laughter echoes off the room and he holds my hand up in the air and twirls me like we’re dancing. “Cause me problems? Shit, you save me so many ways you don’t even know.” His head cocks to the side “Let’s go out to dinner.”
“What? Where?”
“I want to show you off.”
“Barrett,” I say, panicking. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine. I—”
“I want to show them how proud I am to be with you. Let them take our picture. Let them see how beautiful you are.”
“I don’t know . . .”
He tilts my chin up with the tip of his finger. “Do you want to be with me?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Then let’s be together. You and me. Fuck them.”
His smile is contagious and I give in. “Okay. You and me.”
Alison
BARRETT LACES HIS FINGERS THROUGH mine, giving them a gentle squeeze. I look up into his handsome face and return his megawatt smile.
“Are you okay?” he asks as we enter the restaurant.
I nod and try to concentrate on him and the absolute serenity in his gaze—not the hundreds of pairs of eyes gazing at us, not the hushed whispers swirling around the room.
“Me and you,” he winks. “Just me and you, baby.”