Power Switch: Power Play Series Book 3

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

  “You've got it bad,” T says, humor lining his tone.

  “One day we'll get to be that normal couple, right?”

  Silence.

  I cut a glare to where he stands leaning against the wall.

  T lets out a heavy sigh, the movement pushing the tight T-shirt he's wearing to the max.

  “Randi, you're both in a tough position. He has the mess with Jessica and his mom, which might get worse before it gets better. Then you… well, if what needs to happen happens, you'll be the president of the United States.”

  “What do you mean, it might get worse before it gets better?” Shuffling, I slide onto a bar stool and lean my elbows back on to the cool tile. Apprehension flashes across T's features. “Tell me, T. I'm not letting that man get himself deeper into this shit for me.” He still doesn't utter a word. “You really want your best friend married to that awful woman? You want him tied to his family more than he already is?”

  “Low blow,” he huffs.

  I shrug. “I'm learning you have to take the junk shots in politics or you'll never get what you need.”

  “Ruthless.” His smile turns predatory. “I knew you had it in you.”

  “You're stalling.”

  “We need to know what Whit is up to. We have zero clue how he's getting past us, if he even is. But based on the fact that you haven't had any headaches or been sick since we arrived here, I'm betting he wasn't lying in the game room that day.”

  I nod, the nail of my pinkie finger sliding between my teeth at the sharp movement.

  “What does that have to do with Trey and his evil mother?”

  The knowing look he gives me should mean something, but I come up blank.

  “She has someone on the inside, remember?” I dip my chin and motion for him to keep going. “We're hoping we can use that person's knowledge to our advantage. Hopefully they know how Whit is still getting to you.”

  The hand at my mouth falls to my lap with a smack. “You're kidding me.”

  Those boulder-like shoulders shrug.

  “And you're okay with this?”

  This time his shrug is less convincing.

  “I won't let that happen.” Movement inside the house catches my attention, alerting me to Trey's impending return. “When?” I ask quickly.

  “He's meeting with her after the new year.”

  “Let me know when and where. I'd rather die than have him ensnared by that woman any more than he already is. This has to end.”

  A sad look crosses his face, but he nods.

  Turning to face the approaching Trey, I plaster a fake smile across my face.

  No way in hell will I let him give any more of himself for me.

  Been there, done that, and ended up with my boyfriend with a fake fiancée.

  Nope. All this with his mother, Jessica, and Trey ends as soon as we get back.

  Ends for good, no matter the effect on my career.

  20

  Randi

  “You're wearing that?”

  I stick my tongue out at Taeler's reflection in the full-length mirror before running an assessing eye over my outfit choice for what seems like the hundredth time.

  “He said we'd get sandy,” I say more to myself than her. “I'm not so far gone in this new life that I can justify ruining a nice outfit. Not that I packed any.” That’s one part of this life I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. Packing multiple outfits for one day just because you can and not knowing what you’d feel like wearing that particular day. Me? We’re here five days, so I packed five basic outfits, one swimsuit, and a set of pajamas.

  Her tiny button nose scrunches in this adorable way that makes her look like a bunny. “But cutoff jean shorts and a sweatshirt?”

  My reflection twists left and then right as I do. “It's off the shoulder. It's cute.” Turning back straight, I slide my hands down the soft cotton and slip them into the front pockets of my favorite jean shorts. “He knows you,” I whisper to my reflection, giving her a pep talk. “He won't expect anything fancy.” But the longer I stare, the more doubt slips into my confident words.

  I give my head a quick shake, dislodging the growing unease. This is me, and it is what it is. It’s not like I have much else to choose from in my small bag.

  At one minute till eight, I tiptoe across the room, hoping Taeler won’t look up from her phone and make this awkward.

  “Have fun on your date,” she calls out as I tug open the door. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

  I whip around with an expectant expression. “Which is what exactly?”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Go have fun. You deserve it, Mom. You both do.”

  A single hand glides down the smooth banister as I descend the stairs of the rental. I inhale a deep fortifying breath. Tae’s right. I do deserve this one night of carefree thoughts. Of love and passion and feeling normal after so many days of constant pressure. So does he. We've both had unending distractions and things pulling us apart since we met.

  Not tonight. Tonight, it’s just us.

  A heavy floral aroma causes my foot to waver as I lower from the final step. The lush scent fills my lungs as I take a deep breath and force my bare feet forward, padding along the stained concrete as I follow the smell through the darkened house toward a flickering light.

  A soft gasp slips past my parted lips as my feet pull to a stop of their own accord.

  Hundreds of roses fill the living room, vases upon vases of crimson long-stemmed roses in every nook and cranny. Candles flicker on each flat surface, making the living room seem to move with the shifting flames.

  I startle at movement in the corner until Trey's handsome face comes into the light.

  “Trey,” I breathe and scan the room once again, taking in even more detail than I did with the first glance. “How…? When…?”

  A nervous smile pulls at his lips. He dips his head and looks up through his dark lashes.

  “I'm sorry it's taken me this long to do this.” He shakes his head like he's fighting some kind of war in his own mind. “You deserve this kind of wow every day, every second.”

  I shake my head as I move toward him, a smile spreading up my cheeks and happy tears prickling in the corners of my eyes. “No one has ever done anything like this for me,” I admit. “It's beautiful.” I cringe, remembering what I'm wearing and my bare feet. “I should go change.”

  I don't get one step away before I'm tugged against his chest and held tight.

  “Don't you dare. I've had wet dreams about these shorts for months, and tonight”—his nose slides into my hair as he takes a deep inhale—“if you let me, I'll get to turn those dreams into reality.”

  Well, when he puts it that way….

  I bite my lip as I grin up at his answering one.

  His attention flicks to something over my shoulder. I follow his gaze toward the kitchen. With a hard press of his lips to my forehead, he steps back, tugging me to follow him.

  “Since we still don't know how Whit is getting to you, I didn't want to risk ordering in or having someone we don't know cook, so….” He waves a hand toward the spread of bread, cheeses, and other various toppings.

  “It just so happens that grilled cheese is my new favorite food.” Butterflies erupt in my gut at his soft grin.

  “Good,” he says, tugging me deeper into the kitchen. Hands on my waist, he lifts me onto the counter and steps between my legs, which I widen to accommodate his larger frame. “Because it was either that or bacon.” His grin widens at my laugh. “Do you know how lucky I am?” His tone makes it clear it's a rhetorical question. “Of all the women I've dated, your easygoing nature, the joy you find in small gestures, is… refreshing.”

  I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “That's not a small gesture. It's like the Disney World of romantic gestures.”

  He just shakes his head. “That right there proves my point.”

  “You're looking at it from a dollar sign, not the effort that went into
it. All for me. Just me. It's not like we're home and you could call up your favorite florist. I can't imagine the research and planning that went into securing all this, plus the searching and scans that went into every flower.” Turning, I take in the beautiful display. My heart wobbles at the love each and every single rose represents.

  “I'd walk through Hell for you, Mess. Haven't you figured that out by now?”

  I nod, keeping my focus on the flowers, not wanting to see the emotions on his face that are clearly in those words. “But why?” I ask. “I'm no one. I'm a flash in the pan. This will all be over in three years. Why give so much of yourself?”

  Palm to my cheek, he turns my face. Honey brown eyes seem to smile down into my own.

  “Because you're not asking me to.”

  I shake my head, not understanding. His calluses scrape my cheek as that hand slides up, his fingers delving into my loose dark hair.

  “My whole life, people have expected things from me. Money, prestige, power when dating me, or hell, even being my friend. But you, Randi Sawyer, love me for me.”

  “I do,” I whisper through the tears clogging my throat. “Because you do.”

  “And that's why I'd give my life for yours, because it's not a life I want to live without you in it.”

  “Don't say that,” I cry. Reaching out, I grab a fistful of his black T-shirt. “Not when it's a reality every day I'm in office.”

  “Mess, this kind of pure love, this devotion, can't just be turned off. You're everything to me. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking of you. I worry about you every second of every fucking day. I want you happy for the rest of your life. You're the end of my story. There's no coming back from this, from you.”

  Tears streak down my cheeks. “I should fire you,” I say. Resting my forehead on his muscular chest, I take a deep breath of his unique scent. “Problem solved.”

  “Nah, you like the eye candy too much.” His fingers wiggle through mine, loosening the grip I still have on his shirt. “Come on, Mess. Help me make dinner?”

  * * *

  “I can't believe you never told me.” I wipe the remaining butter off my fingers with the rough paper towel before swiping my mouth one last time. I toss it to my empty plate resting on top of the coffee table and lean back against the couch, my backside sliding forward a bit on the rug. “I mean, how has your hobby never come up in conversation? I see you almost every day.”

  Shoving a handful of Cheetos into his mouth, Trey shrugs where he lounges beside me, head lying on top of my thighs.

  “I always wondered what you did to make your hands so rough,” I say absentmindedly.

  He lifts the hand that’s intertwined with my own, examining the palm with a concentrated expression.

  Leaning low, I whisper just above his lips, “I love it.” Before he can pull me in for a kiss, I sit back and rest my head on the couch cushion. Around us, the candles continue to burn through the dark, the flames a bit longer and brighter. The overpowering aroma of the roses mixes with the savory scent of burnt butter and melted cheese. It's intoxicating, really. Or maybe it’s the man I don't deserve resting on my lap who’s causing the almost out-of-body feeling to rush through my head.

  “It's just something I've always done.”

  I run a hand down his strong shoulders and over his pecs, savoring the hard muscles beneath my fingers. “Do you enjoy it?”

  “I do. It's the best workout, and it helps me process everything. It's a few hours of silence, just me and the river.”

  I scratch at his nipple over his shirt. He hisses and smacks my hand away.

  “Would you ever take me with you?”

  I immediately miss the weight of his head when he leans up onto his elbows and turns his chest toward me. “You'd want to come out with me?”

  “I mean, I'd just sit there, you can do all the work, but yeah. I think it would be fun to see what you enjoy. Rowing really isn't something that's big in Texas, or at least not that I'm aware of, so I don't understand it.”

  “It's a date.” Leaning close, he brushes his lips over mine.

  “We're not done with our first one. What makes you so cocky to think you'll get another one?

  He pulls back and waggles his eyebrows, exuding boyish charm. I miss this Trey. The one who flirts, fights, and laughs. A part of me hates that I've changed him.

  “Do you think I've changed you?” I blurt.

  “Yes,” he says quickly, not understanding the strain in my voice. “In a good way. Why?”

  “When we first met, you were… I don't know, more mischievous maybe. Freer, not as stressed. And now you sometimes look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. Do you blame me for that?”

  He shakes his head, his dark hair swiping across his eyes before he flicks it back with a toss of his head. Something like humor shines in his eyes. With a grunt of pain, Trey pushes off the floor to stand, stretching his arms to the ceiling. A few cracks pop from his back through the quiet living room.

  “I wouldn't use the word ‘blame,’ Mess.” I eye his outstretched hand with caution before lacing my fingers through his. With a quick tug, I'm on my feet and tucked to his side. “Next time you see Tank, ask him how I've changed. I'd say I've grown up more than changed.”

  Not given a choice in the matter, I match his long strides toward the back door. Outside, the earlier cool breeze has shifted colder. Snuggling against his side, I turn my face into his ribs.

  “There's some things that come into your life that make you have a purpose. Before being assigned to your detail, I was lost, I guess. Nothing mattered. Well, Tank and the team mattered, but other than that, I was a selfish SOB.”

  A grunt in the dark as we follow the path to the beach makes me smile.

  “Pipe down out there,” Trey shouts with no heat to it. “As I was saying, I'm a better version of myself with you in my life. Do you not agree?”

  The squishy, cold sand slides between my bare toes, shooting a chill up my spine. Scanning the beach, I squint at the faint outline of a tent-like structure closer to the water. Anticipation boils in my belly, sending excitement rushing through my veins.

  “Yeah, I guess, but I never really saw that side of you. I only saw the asshole who softened. But I do kind of miss that mischievousness we used to have. Now things are so… heavy, if that's the right word to use. It's like every breath, every word in every day has some kind of weight to it that's tied to something that's life-threatening.” I smile at the white canvas popping in the quick breeze. “What's this?”

  “You didn't think me cooking was the best surprise of the night, did you?”

  That and the hundred—hell, maybe thousands—of dollars of flowers.

  Releasing his hold around my waist, he grips my hand and tugs me into the makeshift enclosure. Once inside, the wind ceases instantly, making me warmer without its cold breath brushing against my bare legs. I grin at the blanket spread along the sand highlighted by the few glowing lanterns dangling from above.

  “When did you have time to do all this?” I ask in awe.

  “I might have had some help.” He tugs me toward the blanket, forcing me to follow him as he lowers onto it. “When I told Tank about my plans, he didn't want the whole team to see us, so we came up with a way for you and me to have some privacy while getting out of the house and being secure.”

  “It's perfect.” Lying back, I track the slow sway of a lantern. “High hopes of getting lucky?”

  “You could say that.” His voice is deeper, huskier than just moments before.

  The sand shifts beneath my head as I roll it to look over to where he leans on his side, head propped up on his hand with his elbow dug into the blanket.

  “As much as I hate that idiot Birmingham, I'll always be grateful for his hand in bringing you into my life.”

  Love swells in my chest and my heart thunders, each beat making me fall deeper in love with this man before me.

  “I love you, Trey.” His
eyes close like he's savoring my words. “I didn't know what living was before you.” The honest words, words I've never spoken out loud, bring tears to my eyes. “I knew deep love because of Tae, but this, what we have… it's different. It's… soul-consuming because I chose this. You chose this. This, what we have, is on purpose. I didn't know—”

  Thankfully he interrupts my lovestruck rambling with a searing kiss. With a content sigh, I lift higher, sealing my lips harder against his. Sliding a hand beneath my head, he supports me as he pours his deep emotions into me with a single kiss. Warmth quickly races through my veins, heating my skin and causing sweat to dot along my forehead and temples.

  Following me down to the blanket, he shifts to his side. A single hand dips beneath my sweatshirt, swiping lazy strokes along my stomach and circling my belly button. High and higher his fingers travel. I gasp against his lips at the brush of his knuckle against the underside of my breast.

  His movements stop.

  “No bra, Mess?” he mumbles against my lips. “I approve.”

  My happy giggle turns into a groan as he cups one breast, the sharp edge of his nail skimming over my pebbled nipple. Back and forth he glides the pad of his thumb, sending small shock waves of rolling pleasure pulsing to my core.

  I skim a hand over his shoulders and down his spine, gripping the hem of his shirt before tugging it up his back. With some assistance, I pull it over his head and toss it to the sand. Using the brief moment, Trey drags my sweatshirt over my head, kissing along the exposed skin as he works his way toward my jean shorts.

  I sigh in complete bliss as he undoes the button, kissing the bit of skin he exposed beneath. Lost in the sensations of the cool night air, heated skin, and slick lips kissing every inch of my inner thighs I fail to notice him removing my shorts or his own until he’s hovering above me. I smile. A happy, completely lost in love smile. Lost in him. And what’s even better is the one shining back down at me. It’s in his eyes, the pure devotion and adoration. I soak it in, savoring the feel of his bare chest, the beat of his heart in sync with my own, and the weight of him settling between my thighs.