Prime Minister (Frisky Beavers #1)

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Prime Minister (Frisky Beavers #1) Page 20

by Ainsley Booth


  And I fucking told it to Stew, instead of Ellie.

  Fuck my life.

  Thankfully, Stew shifts gears pretty damn fast. “So this isn’t a lawsuit waiting to happen?”

  “From Ellie? No.”

  “From anyone else?”

  “That’s your job to worry about. I’m giving you the heads up so you can craft a message for when our relationship becomes public information.”

  “And when will that be? Are you planning on eloping to Niagara Falls?”

  “We haven’t talked about a wedding yet.”

  “I should hope not.”

  “I can take it a bit slow. Get your ducks in a row, though, because I’m not going to deny how I feel about her if I’m asked. I’m never going to lie about her, Stew.”

  “Your principles are damn irritating sometimes.”

  Early that afternoon, instead of working things out with the woman I love—yeah, my heart skips a beat every time I admit that—I’m on a plane heading home to Vancouver to make a bunch of announcements. And for the first time since becoming Prime Minister, I’m resentful as fuck about fulfilling my official duties.

  At least I get to spend some time with Max this weekend. He’s supposed to show up at my place for pizza and beer at seven. Then spend the evening listening to my tale of woe.

  Meanwhile, things are still a bit strained between Lachlan and me. I had no idea he and Beth had been circling around each other. If I had, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have involved him in my kinky game.

  I spend the flight going over my speeches. I’m really going to miss having Ellie’s fine-tuning.

  When we land in Vancouver, I decide to drive the car back to my house. I want to talk to Lachlan and I figure I’m more in charge if I’m behind the wheel.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you had a little thing for Beth?”

  “With all due respect, not your business.”

  “It is my business. Strip away all the professional capacities here for a moment, and it’s still my business. When I asked you to participate with Ellie and me, I was under the impression you were free of…entanglements.”

  “I was—am. I’m single. Not dating. Hell, I don’t even have any friends with benefits.”

  “What is Beth, then?”

  “Not your business.” His jaw is set and his eyes say don’t fucking go there.

  “Okay, let’s bring the professional back into it. My chief of security has some kind of interest in my assistant, yet he participates in a threesome with his boss and his boss’s girlfriend, who also happens to be an intern. See where this is going yet?”

  “Like I said the other night—no point in wasting time over regrets.”

  “So there is regret?”

  “Not exactly. I’m coming to terms with my choice and how it affects me and those in my sphere. And I’ll be honest, if I had a do-over? I’m not sure I wouldn’t make the same decision.”

  I’m surprised. Lachlan had to have seen the same stricken look on Beth’s face the other day as I did. It makes me wonder if he’s even clued in that she has a thing for him.

  “So now what?”

  “We move on.”

  I agree with him and offer an olive branch. “Max is coming tonight with pizza and beer. Would you like to join us?”

  He hesitates a moment. “Yes, on the pizza, but I’m still technically on duty, so I’ll skip the beer.”

  “Excellent. What kind of pizza do you want?”

  “Meat lovers.”

  “Why am I not surprised? I’ll call Max when we get home.”

  Max arrives shortly after seven, loaded down with three large pizzas and a half-sack of beer.

  “Seriously, only six bottles of beer?”

  “It’s just you and me drinking, and I know you have to work tomorrow.”

  I sigh and lead the way to the living room.

  Max sits down and starts dealing pizza boxes. “Hey Lachlan, against my professional better judgement, I’ve got your artery clogger right here.”

  Lachlan smiles wide as he opens the box and pulls out a large gooey piece of pizza, using his fingers to sever the strings of cheese and add them to the top. “Just what I need, cheesy, meaty goodness.” Folding the slice over, he takes a massive bite. Cheese trails down his chin and he uses his thumb to sweep it into his mouth.

  I don’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed. “You are a total pig.”

  He flips me the bird while he finishes chewing.

  “Shall I get you a knife and fork, Prime Minister?”

  “Fuck you, Lachlan.” And right there, we’re good.

  Meanwhile, Max has been sitting back in his seat chuckling away as he consumes his beer and pizza.

  “Max, did you know that our whole hockey team is kinky?” This is the first opportunity I’ve had to mention anything since I found out because that’s not something I wanted overheard on a cell phone.

  “Oh, really?” He looks at Lachlan, who nods while continuing to stuff his face like it’s his first meal in a week. “I just got more excited about the move. Tell me all about the Ottawa kink scene. Are there any decent clubs?”

  Lachlan swallows his mouthful and chases it down with a swig of Coke. “There are clubs, but access isn’t restricted enough to ensure privacy. Therefore, not what I would consider appropriate for high profile individuals—and make no mistake, as the Prime Minister’s closest friend, and an eligible bachelor, you are most definitely high profile. Occasionally, there are private parties. But they are very select and don’t happen often.”

  “Then how do kinky high-profile birds of a feather manage to flock together?”

  “Connections, mostly. Friend-of-a-friend type stuff.”

  “Or a hockey team.”

  “Yeah. Or that.”

  “But no secret dungeon in the bowels of the Parliament Building where all the kinky politicians gather to let their freak-flags hang out, then?”

  “Afraid not.”

  I have a vision of that West Wing episode where Leo discovers there is an alcoholics anonymous meeting for prominent politicians and administrators. The idea of Parliament Hill Kinksters Anonymous tickles my funny bone, but I hold back my mirth. I want to see how this conversation plays out.

  “So…if I built a dungeon in my new house and knew the right people…”

  “You’d probably become very popular in certain Ottawa circles.”

  “Do I know the right people?”

  Lachlan snorts. “You play hockey with enough of them. You’re golden.”

  I’m touched that Lachlan trusted both Max and me enough to bring us into his private world. Max, in particular, was a relative stranger, even if he had been so thoroughly vetted, no closet held an undiscovered skeleton.

  Considering it was technically a business trip, it turned out to be a halfway decent guy’s weekend. Which was the only thing that made being away from Ellie remotely bearable.

  Lachlan and I are in the car, well on our way home to 24 Sussex when I change my mind and give him a different destination.

  28

  Ellie

  When I got home Friday morning, I took the burner phone out of my purse, turned it off, and put it in the top drawer of my dresser. Then I changed into my pyjamas.

  Now it’s Sunday afternoon and I’m still wearing them.

  Sasha’s given me a wide berth all weekend. I told her that the hours were too much, that the internship had slid way beyond the original scope of the position—a painful understatement—and that I’ve decided to return to the university. I’ll complete the position paper reviews from there and submit them to Stew electronically.

  Like the ten blocks and a bridge that separate the university from Parliament can somehow protect Gavin from the risk that I pose.

  We’re not going to last a month. God, even that isn’t long enough. If either of us had any will power, we’d walk away from each other and reconnect in a year. Two years. When the fact that I was an intern in h
is office is nothing but a titillating note from the past.

  The truth is, I don’t have a plan here. I’m pretty sure that one day I’m going to wake up and find my apartment building surrounded by press, and that’s going to be humiliating.

  It might even destroy my career. Who wants to hire a Women’s Studies professor who slept with the country’s leader while interning in his office? It’s the worst kind of cliché. The boss and the secretary. He’s basically the CEO of an entire nation. And I shimmied into pencil skirts and bent over his desk.

  Worst of all, I loved every last dirty second of it. I wouldn’t change a single thing about this summer. I’ll never regret our secret affair, even if it becomes my public shame.

  I roll over and glare at the top drawer of my dresser.

  Then I force myself to go have a shower and pretend for another hour or two that I can do this.

  After my shower I dig through the fridge looking for something healthy to eat.

  I pull out everything to maybe make a salad, if said salad doesn’t have any lettuce and is served on top of cheese-covered tortilla chips.

  Yes, I’m making nachos for dinner and I’m not going to feel bad about it for a second.

  Besides, our lettuce is looking a little wilty.

  “Sasha?”

  She pops her head out of her room. “Yeah?”

  “Do you want nachos?”

  “For dinner?”

  “Is that a no?”

  “Only because Kyle’s going to be here any minute.” She’s heading out with a friend—not a date, she swears up and down, except she’s been getting ready for an hour, so it’s totally a date.

  “You’re missing out,” I holler at her as she disappears, probably to change her outfit again.

  I’m spooning salsa into a bowl as a knock sounds at the door.

  “Ellie?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll let him in.”

  I dance over to the entrance way, licking salsa off my thumb as I pull the door open.

  It’s not some guy named Kyle who’s totally going to get lucky in the stacks.

  It’s Lachlan. And behind him looms Gavin, hands shoved in his pockets. His jaw is set firmly and covered in a few days of scruff.

  He looks tired. And determined. His eyes are bright and laser-focused in on me. My heart lurches toward him, just leaps right out of my chest and pads across the faded carpet to rub against his leg.

  Stupid heart.

  “No,” I say firmly. “Go away.”

  Lachlan just raises one eyebrow at me and I sigh.

  “Fine, come in, check the place out. I’ve got bras hanging in the bathroom, fair warning.”

  He smirks at me as he moves into the apartment. Gavin steps over the threshold, right into my bubble, and my front door swings shut behind him.

  I want to touch him so badly it hurts. I squeeze my hands at my side instead and glare at him, my voice managing to stay a stern whisper. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “And yet I can’t stay away.” His voice isn’t stern at all. It drips with an all-too-familiar ache.

  I try again to summon callous indifference. “You’ve really interrupted me at a very busy point in my evening. I’m making nachos.”

  He gives me a hopeful smile. “Black olives?”

  I’m a goner. “And chicken.”

  “Delicious.”

  I shake my head, but now my voice is soft and pleading. “You can’t be here.”

  “You quit.”

  “I’m officially finishing my internship from the university.”

  “Isn’t that the kind of thing I need to sign off on?”

  “You’re making light of this?” I snap. “I had to quit my job because of you.”

  “You didn’t have to do anything. And you said you’re finishing it at the university.”

  “That’s hardly the same experience.”

  “Then you should have told me what you were thinking about doing and I’d have talked you out of it.”

  “And that’s exactly why I didn’t. We don’t have any boundaries, Gavin. We need boundaries. Distance. Restraint.”

  “I won’t apologize for wanting you. I’ve needed you from the moment I laid eyes on you, so I’d say my restraint is pretty fucking admirable.”

  My heart leaps into my throat, but I’m not prepared yet to accept all that comes with admitting he’s right, so I whisper, “You don't need me."

  "I damn well do. You’re my Sprite."

  From behind me, Sasha gasps, and from the other end of the room, Lachlan groans. I wave my hand at both of them. “Sasha, this is Gavin. Anything he says is a lie and also top secret.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she whispers.

  Sasha might have a crush, too. It’s a national epidemic. I can’t fault anyone for it.

  Behind Gavin, someone else knocks on the door. I roll my eyes. My apartment is suddenly visitor central. I reach out and grab Gavin’s hand and pull him toward the kitchen, but that’s open to the living room.

  I point to the oven. “Lachlan, I’ve got nachos in there, can you pull them out?”

  “Of course,” he says, and I swear he’s trying not to laugh.

  This isn’t funny.

  I’m mad at Gavin. Mad at myself, too. But that doesn’t do anything to mitigate the duelling facts that I’m excited and freaked out about dragging him into my bedroom.

  I’m just hiding him, of course. Because he came over to talk and Sasha’s got a friend who doesn’t need to see him here.

  “They’re heading out shortly,” I whisper as I click the door shut. “We’ll just—”

  Gavin’s mouth crashes over mine, his tongue shoving into my mouth at the same time as he tugs down the waistband of my sweatpants so he can palm my ass.

  No. Yes. No. This is…Oh God.

  This is unbearably good. He’s kneading my skin, hard, and I’m whimpering against his mouth as he mauls me.

  “Stop.”

  He freezes.

  I fist my hands in the front of his dress shirt and thump my head against his chest.

  With a heavy sigh, he kisses the top of my head.

  “I can’t be your sordid affair,” I mumble into his shirt.

  “Then we have a problem. Because three days away from you, three days of not knowing what the hell is going on with us…that’s my limit.” He drags in a ragged breath as he lets me slump back against the wall.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “We’ll be discreet.” He shakes his head when I open my mouth to protest. “And after a reasonable amount of time, we’ll start dating.”

  “We weren’t discreet enough when I was an intern in your office. No offense, but I don’t think either of us is capable of discretion when it comes to the other.”

  “Then we start dating sooner than later. I’ve already got Stew thinking about how to spin it. You’re a doctoral candidate at the university. We’ll find some other language to describe your consulting in the PMO.”

  “It was a formal internship program.”

  “That will be a day’s news story, nothing more. We’ll manage it.”

  Now it’s my turn to shake my head. “And what will that look like? How does this not end with me being a joke?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  Of course he doesn’t. He’s going to be the wink-wink, nudge-nudge sex machine that banged an intern.

  I’m the young hussy who couldn’t keep her panties on.

  “Is Lachlan standing outside my bedroom door right now?”

  “He’ll wait out on the landing when your roommate leaves.”

  “That’s subtle.”

  “This is why you need to come to me, Sprite.” His voice turns gruff and he cups my face.

  I press my cheek into his palm, achy relief coursing through me at his touch. Why does this feel so right when I know it must be wrong?

  I can’t keep sneaking around with you. It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, and
I can’t say it.

  I’m weak.

  I called it. There’s no keeping us apart, and we’re going to keep crashing together until it all comes crumbling down.

  He groans again, and I close my eyes and tug him toward me. Fuck it. We’ll be grown-ups in the morning.

  His nose bumps against mine and I tilt the other way. Our mouths slide against each other. Wet, hot breath. Dizzying need and dangerous hunger. A silent kiss that goes on forever and ever, and when we break apart, I want more.

  I always want more.

  It will never be enough.

  His hand shoves hard against the wall as he breaks away from me. “Damn it.”

  “What?”

  “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

  I laugh weakly. “This is how it always goes with us.”

  “I know. But that’s gotta change.”

  Now he gets it. Hot, prickly disappointment surges through me. “Right.”

  His jaw sets again, the same way it was when I first opened my front door.

  Right. He came over here to say something else and I threw him off track. Of course I did.

  “Ellie…”

  “It’s fine, Gavin.” I can crawl back into my PJs for another three days. No biggie.

  He shakes his head. “Let me try again. You’re right. I can’t be seen making a booty call to an intern’s apartment. And I can’t ask you to sneak into 24 Sussex any longer. It’s not fair to you. So there’s only one thing to do.”

  I frown. I’m not following.

  He reaches out and cups my cheek. “Ellie, I love you.”

  "Oh, Gavin…"

  "Let me finish."

  "But I—"

  "I love you, and I need you, and I want to take you out on a date.” His eyes light up and his face softens as he gazes at me. “A real one this time. An official first date. And I don't want it to be a secret."

  My head is spinning. "I love you, too," I whisper. It's the least I can say. "But what about…?"

  What about everything? The optics and the party, the media and the scrutiny?

  "Nothing else matters." He strokes my cheek. "You're mine. And we'll deal with the rest of it together."

  29

 

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