“Agreed. At this point, I’m wondering if your mom was just being a dick and there isn’t an inside person, she just found out about the Texas incident by asking around.”
“Wouldn’t put it past her.”
“I’m done, Playboy. This day has maxed me the hell out.” His knees protest, cracking and popping as he stands. A pain-filled grimace pulls across his face. Those few years playing professional football still haunt his body. I'm not sure there’s a day he isn't in pain. It would be manageable if he could get some relief, but with the drug tests and tight medication requirements for the secret service, he can't take anything that helps. Maybe once Randi is president, we can convince her to approve medical pot to be on our permitted drug list—though not while on duty, of course. Then he could get a full night’s sleep without waking up in pain.
“Same. I'm beat,” I say on a yawn while stretching my arms high overhead.
I follow behind Tank as we make our way down the hall toward our rooms.
“Hey, Benson?”
My hand rests on the doorknob. “Yeah.”
“Keep it in your pants while we’re here, for fuck’s sake.”
I bark out a laugh and shove the door open. “Where's the fun in that, big buddy?”
The door swings closed behind me. Heel to the stained wood, I kick it the rest of the way, cutting off Tank’s muttered curses. I smile to myself as I work the knot of my tie loose.
Sometimes riling him up like old times is just what I need.
15
Randi
I'm a creeper.
It is not normal for a mid-thirties—okay, late thirties—mother to stare at her older daughter while she sleeps. But I can't help it. First of all, she's beautiful, a trait she got from me—obviously. And second, she's actually here, with me, when I least expected it but needed her the most. With the stress of the job, I haven’t had a chance to sit and think, to realize how badly I miss having Taeler close. Sure, I was terrified when I caught her bright blue eyes from across the room when we first arrived. But now that I know she’s safe and securely tucked in bed beside me, I'm thankful she's here.
There are a few different reasons why I’m happy she’s here, but the most prominent is that she's the one lying beside me in this plush king-size bed, not Sam. I'll admit the thought of sleeping arrangements for this overnight stay at Camp David never crossed my mind. But with Tae here, I was able to ask Sam to swap rooms with her, the one right next door to this one, without it being awkward.
I'm sure the change in plans pissed Kyle off. Why he’s so eager to push me and Sam together, I haven’t figured out yet. A nagging thought in the back of my mind tells me it has to do with his longtime running beef with Trey and nothing to do with me and Sam. Everyone can see it kills Trey when Sam and I are together, which makes Kyle want it to happen as often as possible. That's the most likely scenario I've come up with, at least.
What T and Trey think, who knows. Since the poisoning, they've kept their cards close to their chests. Which is fine, since I've got my own issues to handle at this point in my term. Eleven months in and I'm barely keeping my nose above water. But I haven't drowned yet. Nor will I.
I'll make it through all this if it takes everything I have.
“Mom, you're being weird… again,” Taeler mumbles, licking her dry lips without opening her eyes.
With a content sigh, I rake my fingers through her blonde hair, relishing in the way it slides against my skin and how it automatically calms my racing thoughts.
“I’ve missed you.”
“We covered that in detail two hours ago around several bowls of ice cream, remember?”
I snort and roll to rest my head back on the feather-stuffed pillow, focusing on the ceiling. “Yes, I remember hearing way too many details about you and Gremlin.”
“His name is Chad, Mom. But now that you mention it, you know what we didn't cover?”
The cream satin pillowcase slides beneath my hair as I roll my head to face her heavy-lidded open eyes.
“What's that?”
“The new guy, Sam. You two were acting like a couple earlier, but the past month or so, you’ve only mentioned him as a work colleague, never, like, a boyfriend.”
“I don’t remember telling you anything about him,” I say, searching her face, trying to recall our phone conversations.
Taeler smiles. “Mom, you tell me everything, which is why when I heard you introducing Sam as your boyfriend to those old guys who are here with us, I was surprised.”
“But I didn’t mention why, right?” Please tell me I haven’t spilled national security secrets to my daughter. Maybe the lasting effects of the poisoning are affecting me more than I realized.
“Nope, just that you two were working together. So tell me, why is this Sam guy in the picture and Trouble out?” I open my mouth to explain but snap it shut when she continues talking. “I saw the way you and Trouble acted in Austin. It wasn't just a fling. Why are you ignoring what you have with him for this new guy?” Black-tipped fingers slide under her cheek, propping her head up slightly. “Don't get me wrong, he's all kinds of hot, but….”
“But what?” I encourage. Now I'm curious what she sees. I agree with her, of course, but he’s no Trey.
“He's not your match. Hot is hot, but compatibility beyond the attraction? I don't see it. I don't see you… happy.”
“That could be a side effect of almost dying several weeks ago.”
“I still can't believe you didn't let me come visit after that. When Trouble called to tell me what was going on, I flipped. I still don’t know how he talked me out of flying to DC.” I smile knowing Trey has that way about him, able to talk his way into or out of anything. “I still have no idea how you kept the real cause out of the media. Whoever believes you were just sick on that jogging trail is an idiot for trusting something just because it's on the news.”
“Yeah, my media team is fantastic. I have no idea how they do it, but they've kept all the close calls out of the news. Thank goodness. And yes, I understand you were scared, kind of like me being scared shitless when I first saw you today. You don't belong here, Tae. These men are ruthless. I want you as far off their radar as possible. They're dangerous, and as much as I'd like to think I can protect you from everything, I can't from these men. They're power personified, and it messes with their morals, if they had any to start with. You're not safe.”
“Come on, Mom,” she grumbles into the pillow. ”Chad is here, and the other guys on my security detail. You're here. You're whole first and second team of agents are here. What could happen?”
Faster than a west Texas rattlesnake, I snap my palm over her lips. “Don't say that,” I cry. “That's exactly how every horror movie or thriller starts, with someone thinking they can't be touched. Then bam, they're dead.” I widen my eyes and scan the room. “What if they're listening?”
“You're a freak of nature sometimes, Mom,” she mumbles as she pulls her face away from my palm. “Stop avoiding my question. What's with this Sam guy?”
The wafting cool air from the overhead fan brushes over the skin of my exposed arm, causing goose bumps. I slide it back under the covers, tucking cold fingers between my flannel-covered thighs to warm them up.
“He's more than a friend.” Shit, how do I explain this without letting all my secrets out of the bag? “It started as a work thing, and then we just hit it off, I guess.”
“Which is why you begged him to switch sleeping spots with me.” The sheets inch toward Taeler as she rolls onto her back, stealing most of the covers. “I don't buy it. Something else is going on that you’re not telling me.”
“He's a good guy,” I say a bit defensively. Not sure why. “He was at Harvard around the same time as me, did I mention that?”
“Is he one of the assholes who made your life miserable?”
“Nope,” I grumble. “That was just Kyle and his merry little entourage of dickheads.”
A quiet g
iggle bubbles from her chest, making the bed tremble.
“Does he make you happy?” Her tone is thoughtful as she rotates her face to search my own. “It doesn't seem like it. You look stressed, Mom. And sick. I'm not sure what's going on, but are you sure all this is worth it?”
“All what exactly?”
“This role. Look at what it's doing to you. Doing to us. I haven't seen you more than a couple times since the campaign started. You’re sick, you’re exhausted, and now you're hooking up with a guy just because he can somehow help your political career.”
“I never said that,” I chastise.
“You didn't have to,” she says just as disapprovingly. “I see it, Mom, and if I do, then you better believe everyone else does too. There's no passion between you, no chemistry. No one can fake the real deal. It’s 100 percent obvious that you two aren't a real couple. Hell, it’s clear you two haven’t even had sex.”
“Taeler Lynn!” I whisper-shout while laughing. “How would you know?”
“How would you not?” Taeler asks, shaking her head. “Your touches are stiff, planned almost. There’s no comfort or ease between you two. And you’re lacking that fire that’s palpable to everyone around you when you’re together. That is unmistakably missing with you and hottie Sam.”
“It's foolish, that’s what it is.” Thumbnail between my teeth, I think over her words. “That's just the honeymoon phase anyway. Everyone grows out of that eventually.”
“Maybe? I don't know, not a whole lot of experience. Let me ask you this, Mom, without you getting mad at me.”
“Not off to a great start, but go ahead.”
“Are you subconsciously pushing Trouble away because you don’t want him to get too close?”
Her words smack me like a palm to the cheek. Stunned into silence, all I can do is lie here, my mouth opening and closing like a gulping fish. The thin chain of the ceiling fan tinks against the glass fixture, offering the only noise in the uncomfortable silence.
“I'm only saying that because you two seemed to have it. And the way you talked about him those nights when we could actually catch up… it was more than your words. It was in the lightness of your voice, the happiness that seeped from you all the way to me in Austin.”
“Why would I push him away?” I ask the ceiling.
“Because anyone you've ever depended on let you down.”
Huh.
“Because you've always done things on your own, and you don't want to owe anyone anything.”
That's true. I went against my better judgment with Kyle, and look where that landed me. I thought turning the tables on him and making him choose me as his running mate would put us on equal footing, that I wouldn't owe him anything. What a cluster that's turned out to be. Maybe that’s also why I’m hesitant to trust Vlad, the Russian president.
“All I'm saying is trust him, Mom.”
She doesn't know the real reason I'm pushing Trey away. But could what she's saying somehow be festering in the back of my subconscious, altering my decisions and choosing my path for me, and that’s why I keep taking the option that pushes us apart rather than together?
Growing up near the poverty line was difficult. So yeah, I've done a lot on my own because, well, someone had to. I've fought for everything I've had and always been one step behind. Maybe this whole time, I've just been waiting for Trey to disappoint me or leave or just say he's done because that's my life.
“When did you become so smart?” I mumble with a smile, rolling my head along the soft pillowcase to face her.
“Always have been. Got it from Dad, obviously.”
That's it.
Reaching across the bed, I dig my fingers into her ribs, searching for her ticklish spot. Taeler lets out a shriek as she attempts to wiggle away from my prodding fingers.
“Get off me,” she screams while sucking in air between laughing fits.
“Never,” I say in a deep, evil voice.
She shrieks again, swatting at my arms and tangling herself tighter in the quilts and sheets.
A whoosh of chilled air bursts through the room as the door swings open. One of the beta team agents rushes inside, gun in hand, eyes furiously scanning the room.
Taeler and I both pause, eyes blinking at the unexpected visitor.
“Can I help you?” I ask, trying like hell to remember the guy’s name.
“What’s going on in here?” Finally his intense gaze lands on me as he slowly holsters his gun. “I heard a scream.”
“Just a tickle fight. We're cool.” I shoot him a thumbs-up. When that doesn’t ease the concern from his harsh features, I drag the other hand out of the covers to make it a double.
Yep, I'm a moron. It's cool. I'm actually starting to embrace it.
What’s the phrase? If you can't beat the weirdness, just go with it?
I swear I saw that cross-stitched on a pillow, or maybe it was in the window at Hot Topic years ago. Either way, the phrase rings true.
Another body steps into the room behind the agent. Taeler sits upright beside me, quilts held close to her chest as Sam steps around the agent, moving closer to the bed.
Of course he’s shirtless.
Not that I'm complaining. At all.
Low-rise gray sweatpants hang on his hips in that seductive way that begs you to tug them down to discover the bulge beneath. Because yes, there is a bulge. A significant one.
Trailing my gaze up from the spot my attention should not be on, I follow the happy trail north over a muscular stomach and defined chest. A smirk plays at his full lips.
“Randi. Taeler.”
“Sam,” Taeler says with a bite to her tone I've never heard before.
His features tighten, leaving little doubt that he didn't pick up on it too. What the hell is her problem? Earlier she was acting just fine around him; now he's getting the cold shoulder.
“Welcome to the party,” I say, gesturing to Taeler and the uncomfortable-looking agent still standing by the door. “Did you bring snacks?”
Sam shakes his head and smiles. “No, sorry. I heard a commotion and thought I'd come check on you.”
“Without a shirt,” Taeler asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It's how I sleep,” Sam responds, not breaking the sudden stare-off the two started.
“We're fine, just goofing around. You can leave now.”
“Taeler,” I chastise with a grimace. “Stop being so damn rude.”
Sam holds up both hands in surrender. “Don't worry about it, Randi. I'm leaving. Glad it was nothing.” Halfway out the door, he pauses and turns. His piercing green eyes dart from me to Taeler and back again. “Let's talk in the morning, Randi, go over strategy.”
“Strategy. Yeah, right,” Taeler says under her breath. With a dismissive wave, she snuggles back into the covers, her back to me.
“Okay, yeah,” I say more like a whisper, focusing on Taeler’s back. “Kyle wants to meet with me at some point too, so best we meet before that.”
“Night.”
I mutter a similar goodbye, still staring at Taeler. After the door clicks closed behind the retreating agent, I give her shoulder a hard shove to gain her attention.
“What was that about?” I hiss.
The bed doesn't jolt, doesn't wiggle as she stays facing the wall. “I've chosen my side.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” The entire bedframe shakes as I flop onto my back and begin to massage my temples.
“It means I'm Team Trouble.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. That man wants you, Mom.” Finally the bed shifts under her weight as she rolls to face me. “What guy walks into a woman’s room looking like that if he didn't?” I open my mouth to defend him when she holds up a hand, stopping me. “Now I'm going to bed.”
“Team Trouble,” I grumble over the rustling of the sheets and quilts as I snuggle deeper. The thick duvet between my curled fingers, I draw it up close to my chin and stare
at the slightly outdated wallpaper. “There are no teams,” I whisper against the soft fabric.
“Oh, there are teams, Mom.” How the hell did she hear that? “And if you haven't chosen a side, then shit's about to get real messy.”
“Language,” I hiss over my shoulder. “And it's not like that.”
“Okay,” she replies, her tone letting me know she clearly thinks I'm an idiot.
“It's not. It's business, not personal.”
“Sometimes I worry about you,” she says with an annoyed sigh. “Good night, Mom.”
I pat her tiny heinie under the mountain of covers and close my eyes ready to beg sleep to come.
As the long “to do” list, “not to do” list, and “holy hell, why haven't you done this yet” list flip through my overactive mind I can't help but wonder if Taeler is right.
If I had to choose right here, right now, whose team would I be on?
It's the easiest answer I've ever had to give.
Trey. One hundred percent Trey.
So if that's my answer, then why aren't I with him? Why am I letting this stupid fake game with Kyle ruin the one good part of my overworked life?
Or did I leave one “team” out of the equation?
Maybe I'm not Team Trouble or Team Sam.
Maybe I'm Team Randi.
And you know what? For the first time in my life, I'm okay with that.
16
Randi
The black SUV speeds down the drive, growing smaller and smaller with each passing second until it vanishes below the horizon. Fingers against my lips, I huff hot, humid air into my frozen hands, desperate to keep frostbite at bay. Even though the SUV is long gone, here I stand in the early morning frigid air, wishing I could've had one more day with Taeler.
“You okay?”
I turn toward the deep voice, my hair whipping across my face. Reaching up, I tuck the few dark locks behind my ear and hold on to the strands to keep them in place.
I quickly scan Sam, who stands just inside the large double doors, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. He looks good again. Of course he does. That's him. But do I feel that pull, the fire Taeler spoke of last night? Yes, I'd love to see him naked, but do I want to be naked with him?
Power Switch: Power Play Series Book 3 Page 16