by Chelle Bliss
I want my wife, but I know I also want Reagan happy. She gave up her Senate run years ago, and I don’t want her to give up on any more dreams. I don’t want to be the asshole. Her father did enough to kill her excitement of politics; I don’t want to take her zest for life and charity.
I push myself up from the chair, knowing exactly what I need to say as I make my way toward the bed. She stirs with her eyes closed as I climb under the covers and press my front against her bare flesh.
“Hey,” she whispers and blinks slowly as she peers over her shoulder at me.
“Hey, baby.” I smile, trying to put on my best game face, even though every word of what’s about to come out of my mouth is almost a complete lie. “It’s so nice waking up with you next to me.” Those words are true. What I wouldn’t give to do this every day like normal married people.
She rolls over, pressing her breasts against my chest and gives me a lazy little smile. “It is nice, isn’t it?”
I rub my nose against her, wishing I could bottle this moment to remember her soft breasts, the heat coming off her silky skin in waves, and the feel of her body in my arms. In a few months, it’ll all be just a memory. “I was thinking…” I let my voice drift, not finishing the statement yet.
Her eyebrows rise as she slides her hands up my chest, pulling her face away just enough to see me better. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Good or bad?”
I slowly drag my fingers up her spine, tracing the outline of each bone. “Depends.” I’m totally stalling. I don’t really want to say the words. They’re stuck in my throat, not wanting to come out.
“Jude,” Reagan says with the same tone she uses when she’s run out of patience.
“I think you should take the job,” I blurt, throwing the statement out there much the same way one tears off a Band-Aid from their hairy limb.
She’s silent for a moment. Her eyes widen as the realization hits her. The surprise on her face matches how I feel inside, but I don’t let the emotion show on my face. There’s no taking them back now. No trying to change her mind. Reagan is someone I can’t control even if I want to, which I don’t.
Her face scrunches, and her fingernails dig into my skin just enough to make me wince. “So help me God, Jude. If you’re bullshitting, I will—”
“Baby, I’m not,” I interrupt her before she can tell me all the ways she’d make me suffer. “I want you to take the job if it’ll make you happy.”
She bites her bottom lip and smiles, retracting her claws from my chest. “You just made me the happiest woman in the world.”
Her words bring a smile to my face for a second because who doesn’t want to see their wife happy. I tell myself to stop being a selfish asshole, something I struggle with sometimes, but only when it comes to her. “That’s all I want,” I tell her and pull her closer.
She stares up at me like I’ve just given her the best gift in the world. The happiness radiates from her as she curls into me, giving her lips to me without hesitation. It’s like I delivered her the moon and the stars and not a simple nod of approval for her career aspirations. One thing I already knew, Reagan was going to take the position whether or not I wanted her to, so why fight it?
She kisses me slowly as she snakes her arms around my shoulders and starts to toy with the hair at the back of my neck. Goose bumps break out across my skin as I breathe her in.
“Jude.” Tyson’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard as he repeats my name and knocks on the door.
We break our kiss, staring at each other but not speaking. I gave Tyson explicit instructions not to interrupt Reagan and me. I don’t care if the world is coming to an end, I’d rather die in my wife’s arms without ever knowing the information in advance.
“Jude. For God’s sake, open the door. It’s an emergency.”
“Ignore him,” I say to Reagan, pressing my lips back on hers as she tries to wiggle free from my hold.
“You have to answer him,” she tells me as she slides out from under my arms even though I try to stop her.
She slips off the bed and grabs her robe from the back of the chair near the window.
I slam my fist into the mattress before I launch myself upward. “This better be good,” I growl as I head toward the door, adjusting my sweats. Every muscle in my body is tense, and my cock isn’t too happy about the entire situation either.
“Jude!” Tyson’s louder this time, and there’s more panic in his voice.
I open the door and lean against it. There’s no hint of amusement or happiness on my face either. “What, Tyson?”
He’s fully dressed in his business suit, hair perfectly combed like we had a meeting I hadn’t remembered. It is way too early to be this pulled together. “Have you seen the news?”
I glance over my shoulder as Reagan walks toward us, tying her robe closed. “Been kind of busy.”
Tyson gives Reagan a small smile, but his eyes are quickly back on me. “We need to talk in private.”
“She’s my wife, Tyson. Not the enemy.”
Reagan slides her arm around my side and flattens her palm against my stomach just above the waistband of my shorts. “I promise not to leak a word of whatever you’re about to say,” she tells him, but she doesn’t have to because we don’t keep secrets from each other.
Tyson shifts between his feet and blows out a shaky breath. “We have a major problem.” He glances around the hallway and jerks his chin toward the room. “Let me inside.”
Reluctantly, I move backward, keeping Reagan behind me, and let Tyson into the one place I thought was going to be a work-free zone for the next so many hours. But as usual, he has a way of spoiling everything.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as soon as the door clicks shut.
Tyson paces in front of the window, rubbing his hands together. I haven’t seen him this worked up over something in a long time, so whatever it is, it isn’t good. “Someone went to the media stating they’ll be filing sexual harassment charges against you later today.”
His words are like a punch to the gut as I rock backward and wonder if I heard him wrong. “Say that again.”
Reagan’s clutching my side so tightly, her fingernails are going to leave a mark. “No one will believe her.”
“The media’s already all over it, Jude. The Golden Boy Is Going Down was the last headline I saw come across my phone. There was also Titan’s Tryst.”
“For fuck’s sake.” I glance toward the ceiling and try to calm myself down before I let my anger get the better of me.
“What do we know? Who is it?” Reagan asks, finally stepping out from behind me.
“I have people trying to find out. Right now, I only know what the media has reported, and it isn’t much.”
“Maybe she’ll just go away.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I say, knowing what a shitstorm this is going to cause in today’s political climate. “I’ve never been inappropriate with anyone on my staff or off.”
“I’ll get out in front of this,” Tyson says.
“You’re already behind it if you don’t even know who it is,” Reagan says sharply. “Get the rest of the team in here now.”
13
Reagan
Jude’s communications manager has to go. The first moment I get alone with my husband, I’m breaking the news.
Monica is in her late twenties, and she’s a social media whiz. She can pump positive stories out there like no one I’ve ever seen. But right now, we’re in crisis mode for the first time, and I can’t believe the way she’s responding.
“Don’t worry about this,” she says to Jude for at least the tenth time. “We’ll smother it with coverage of what you’re doing for veterans.”
“This isn’t just about our feeds,” I say from the edge of the couch I’m sitting on. “The media isn’t going to run with any of our stuff about veterans’ issues right now. It’s going to be this story and nothing else.”
“B
ut aren’t sex scandals a dime a dozen these days?” I look over to see who said it, and it’s an intern casually leaning against a wall. “I say you apologize deeply and don’t discuss it again after that.”
There’s a moment of stunned silence before Jude roars, “I didn’t fucking do anything!”
“Babe.” I lay a hand on his inked forearm. “Keep it down. We don’t want anyone overhearing any of this.”
He sighs and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
I move my hand to his shoulder, which is rock hard with tension.
“You—” Tyson points to the intern “—are here to fetch coffee and learn. No one gives a shit what you think. Don’t offer any more opinions unless you’re asked to.”
The intern nods, his face darkening with embarrassment.
“What the hell is an intern even doing in this room right now?” I ask Tyson.
He puts his hands up in an I have no idea gesture.
“I’m loyal,” the intern mumbles.
I take a deep breath to steady myself.
“I’m not questioning your loyalty,” I say.
I look around at the eight people other than Jude and me who are in the room. Everyone has a somber expression.
“Okay, look. Jude and I need to talk to Tyson alone. The rest of you set up a base camp in someone’s room and start combing through all the news and social media feeds you can find. And get checking with any news sources we have. We need to know who this is and exactly what the allegations are.”
Jude nods slightly, still staring at the ground, his shoulders hunched.
Tyson glares at me, his lips pursed. Everyone else quickly files out of the room, and as soon as they’re gone, Tyson moves to stand next to the couch Jude and I are sitting on.
“I’m in charge of this campaign,” he says to me. “You don’t order the staff around.”
Jude looks up at him, his brow furrowed. “Are you fucking kidding me? Can you save the pissing match for later?”
Tyson focuses on him. “Honestly? No. Our responses to this need to be airtight. We can’t be running in different directions. So who’s running this show?”
“Me.” Jude’s tone sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve rarely heard it, but I know not to push him when he’s like this. I hope Tyson does too. “And my wife is my number two, Tyson, not you, so let’s just get that straight right now.”
Tyson’s shoulders drop and he says nothing, but I can see he’s still pissed.
“Tyson,” I say, running my palm up and down Jude’s back as I speak. “I don’t mean any disrespect, truly. I’m just in crisis-response mode, and every minute matters.”
“Reagan’s thinking straighter than me right now, and she’s right,” Jude says. “The first thing we have to do is have the conversation, and we don’t want anyone in here who doesn’t have to be.”
Tyson nods, his expression softening. “Okay. I didn’t mean any disrespect either, Reagan.”
“It’s all good. We’re all pretty tense right now.”
Tyson sits down in the chair across from the couch. “Monica should be in here for this.”
Jude shakes his head. “No. She has to go.”
I interject. “I completely agree.”
“As soon as we’re done here, call the RNC and get us a line on some coms crisis people,” Jude said. “Veteran people who have weathered this shit before.”
Tyson nods silently. “You want me to fire Monica, then?”
Jude considers. “Just demote her. She does great work, but this is way over her head.”
“Okay.”
Jude turns to face me then, his rumpled dark hair not matching his serious expression. He pulled on a pair of dark gray sweats and a T-shirt when Tyson called this meeting, and he still looks fresh out of bed. We both do. I’m wearing yoga pants and a “Titan for Tomorrow” campaign T-shirt I grabbed.
“I know we have to have this conversation, but—”
“Wait.”
My heart hammers with worry over what he’s about to say. Did he slip one of those times when I was working and he was lonely? Did he say or do something in a weak moment that he’s about to confess to me?
Not my Jude, an inner voice says. But there’s another inner voice, the one who was devastated by my father’s affair, telling me that…maybe. Maybe.
I hush both voices, focusing on the business at hand. “Don’t you think we need a rec on a strategist from the RNC, too?”
He nods slightly. “I was thinking Janet Fremont.”
“She’s working for Sheryl Canyon right now.”
“Ah, shit.” He runs a hand down his scruffy face.
“Jack Carrigan?” Tyson suggests.
“He’s good,” Jude says with a nod. “See if we can get him. And if not, call the RNC.”
“Will do.”
Jude turns to me again. “I need you to know I didn’t do anything, babe.”
“I know.” The response just comes out automatically, but I can’t meet his eyes.
“Guys,” Tyson says in a gentle tone. “Let’s just get this over with, okay? Let me lead it.”
I give him a grateful look and sit back against the couch, hands in my lap. I really didn’t want to interrogate my husband in front of his campaign manager.
“Yeah.” Jude takes a sip from his coffee mug and sits back too.
“Have you had any sort of extramarital physical or intimate contact with anyone?” Tyson starts.
“No.” Jude’s tone is emphatic.
“Ever done anything that could have been construed as nonconsensual? And remember, this doesn’t have to be recent. This could be a woman saying you did something inappropriate ten years ago.”
Jude shakes his head. “No. Even before I was married, I never forced myself on anyone. That’s against everything I am.”
“Every done any sort of role-playing with a partner?”
Jude sighs heavily. “No, not really. There was a woman who wanted to call me Daddy back when I was in the Corps, that’s about it. It was just a one-night thing.”
My stomach twists at the visual his words give me. I hate the idea of my husband screwing any other woman, even if it was before we met.
“You good, Reagan?” Tyson asks me.
“I’m fine.”
He continues. “Ever had sex with someone video-recorded?”
Jude shakes his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Ever gotten a woman pregnant?”
My stomach rolls with nausea at the very thought.
“No.” Jude puts a palm on my thigh.
“Not to your knowledge, anyway,” Tyson says, looking sheepish.
“I guess. It’d be a complete fucking shock, though.”
I swallow hard, my mind racing with possibilities. Just an hour ago, my biggest worry was whether Jude would get on board with my job offer. And now…I’m thinking about the possibility that my husband could have a child out there that he never knew about.
I want to have his babies. Our babies. The thought of another woman having his baby makes me…
Tearful. I have to fight back the tears. I almost can’t breathe for a second.
“Babe.” Jude looks into my eyes. “I swear to you, there’s nothing…nothing.”
“I…I know.” My voice shakes.
“Any woman you’ve ever rejected who may feel scorned?” Tyson presses.
Jude sighs deeply. “I mean…ever? Sure, I’ve rejected women.”
Tyson makes a note in the small notebook he always carries.
“Any woman you’ve ever tried to get with who wasn’t interested?”
“Again”—my husband’s voice is agitated—“ever? Of course.”
“These are the people we have to be considering before we know more,” Tyson says. “You know how these things are.”
“I know.” Jude blows out a breath. “This is nothing, I guarantee it. But that doesn’t
stop someone from making an accusation that could cost me my career. My honor.”
“All we can do for now is hunker down and wait to see what breaks,” Tyson says. “You guys can’t leave this room for now.”
I nod, my head spinning. Tyson stands up and looks down at us.
“Think about it and talk about it with Reagan,” he says. “You know the drill—anything you think of, let me know so we can try to get out in front of it. I’ll come update you guys when we get any details.”
“Thanks,” Jude says solemnly.
We both stand as Tyson leaves the room, and then Jude turns to me, his dark eyes swimming with emotion.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he says softly.
“It’ll be okay.”
“You believe me, right? I can’t do any of this without you beside me. I need to know you believe me.”
“I do, but—”
“But?” His eyes bulge with disbelief.
“But like Tyson said, this could be something from your past. Someone you turned down who wants revenge. We just don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”
He nods and closes his eyes for a second, then walks toward me and puts his hands on my hips. “You can’t leave me, Ray. I’ve never been through anything like this, and I have to have you with me.”
“Well, Tyson quarantined us to this room, so…” My small attempt at humor falls flat.
“I mean after we get news, too. This changes everything. I need you by my side.”
To show the world he has a devoted wife. Memories of my father’s sex scandal hit me so hard, I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.
“I’m here,” I say softly.
He takes me into his arms then, and I rest my cheek against his chest. His solid warmth envelops me for a few sweet moments, but then the nightmare comes blaring back into my consciousness.
I know Jude has been faithful to me. But this whole thing still sickens me in a way no one else would understand.
I have to live the nightmare again. The questions. The judgment. The condemnation.
True or false, this accusation against my husband is going to change everything.