by Clancy Nacht
Sloan shrugged, expression darkening for a moment, tone slipping into despondence. “I would never have gotten where I am right now without you. I’d still be riding transit and begging my professors for an in instead of driving my fine ass car to my prestigious job.”
Before Upton had to contend with the mood swing, Sloan seemed to shrug it off, his smile re-emerging. “But I’m blessed, and I’m really happy with my life right now, Upton. How are you holding up?”
“I don’t get to spend nearly as much time with my husband as I’d like.” Upton smiled, feeling fragile with the admission. He hoped Sloan didn’t think that Upton was trying to give a pat answer. “This whole work/life balance is a little tricky since I didn’t really have one before. A life, I mean. I’m no less passionate for the causes I’m working for, so that still drives me, but I have to admit that I look forward to coming home at night. That’s… I mean, not that I hated coming home, but it was just… empty. You know? I like bouncing ideas off you. It’s been really good for me.”
Upton took a sip of his wine as they were served their calamari. “Apparently people are noticing. Security says I’ve received love letters.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t they know I’m a married man?”
Sloan straightened and squared his shoulders, looking like he might pick a fistfight. “Love letters, huh? People trying to muscle in on my man? I’ll fuckin’ fight ‘em.” His country accent came out strong, as it rarely did, but Sloan didn’t appear to hear it. He seemed ready to clock one of Upton’s admirers if they showed their face.
“Well, I say love letters, but the agents didn’t specifically say that. I didn’t see anything. Security just came by a few times. I don’t know, I think it’s happening on the internet somewhere? Maybe someone’s got me confused for a rock star or something.” Upton knew some of the specifics of the notes were not flattering to Sloan, so he didn’t want to talk about that and upset him. Especially since it was just silly nonsense. “They didn’t seem so concerned as to assign people to me, so I don’t think it’s anything. They just came and looked around, told me to keep an eye out. Guess that’s your job now.”
Upton grinned and helped himself to some of the calamari. “That’s the most exciting thing going. I need to be in Delaware next week, tend to a few things. Think you can join me?”
“You inviting me on a business trip with you, hubby?” Sloan’s tiny, dimpled smile was endearing, as was the way he leaned in and stole the piece of calamari Upton had been just about to snag. Then he held it out, feeding it to Upton himself. Apparently, he was over his poor mood. “Do I get to mingle with your constituents? Taking me home to meet the folks?”
“I think they’d like to meet you. They’re curious. They may be a little…” Upton tried to think of a diplomatic word, but gave up. “Nosy. They’re good people, they have my back, and having called upon a good number of them personally in the past couple of weeks, I think they’d enjoy meeting the man who I was willing to raise a ruckus over.”
Upton grinned and offered Sloan one of the good, crunchy pieces. “They’re some real common-sense folk.”
Often, Upton pitied politicians who were in it for the fame, money, connections, bribes—those who saw their constituents as bothers. Sure, Upton had some who could be pests, but he was proud of his district and what he’d been able to provide for them. He’d been nervous about how they’d react to Sloan, but after their initial surprise, they seemed to take pride in their young, virile representative.
“It’ll be some mixers, a couple of speeches. I think there’s a ribbon cutting somewhere in there.”
“That sounds honestly fantastic. I’m ready to see up close what it takes to keep a base happy and win re-election.” Sloan grinned, seeming sincere, like he couldn’t imagine a better trip than to mingle with Upton’s people. “I’ll do my best to win them all around, make them see what I can bring to the table as their representative’s wifey.” Sloan winked and sipped his wine.
“Oh really? You thinking of running for office someday?” Upton beamed and sipped his wine. He loved the idea of Sloan on his arm, but he also loved the idea of Sloan as another voice for equality. “It’s kind of rough and tumble sometimes, though usually for me it’s just in the primary. They’re very, very blue in my district. Once I’ve got the primary, we’re good.”
Upton paused as they brought out the lemon shrimp pasta for them to share. It was very romantic, in an Upton sort of way. Sharing pasta and political talk. “There may be someone who sees my position as weak who may come for me this year. That’s part of the reason why I’m going home. Shake some hands, make them stab me from the front, if they’ve got the guts to do it.”
He tried to keep from looking pleased for the potential challenge. If there was any doubt that Upton was a political animal, moments like these, he could feel it in his bones.
Sloan seemed to pick up on it because his expression turned sly, appraising. He gathered some pasta and shrimp on his fork and held it out to Upton, feeding him, and then said in that dark, velvety voice, “Heaven forbid I should ever run, but as a lobbyist I’ll be far more effective if I can put myself in the shoes of those I hope to influence. Knowing the boots-on-the-ground situation will help me. And if I help you campaign—smile and wave, talk about values, stand by my man wearing an impeccable outfit—then I’ll be even more credible in that work. I need to hone my ability to pinpoint electability issues and pitch something to a constituency. You can help me learn that.”
“You can help me look put together. I get so many compliments when you dress me.” Upton scooped some pasta on a fork for Sloan. “Anyway, if you ever did decide you wanted to run, especially when I make my move to statewide representation, if you wanted to pick up my old seat, you’d be very well connected to do so. Start your own empire. Or hit up the senate in a few years. It’s a thought.”
Then Upton frowned, remembering the senators that had threatened Sloan’s life, one of whom he’d almost come to blows with in the bathroom. Not that he’d mentioned that to Sloan. There was a blind item hinting at a scuffle, but no names were named.
“Or lobbyist, too. You can do anything you set your mind to.” Upton took a bite of the next forkful that Sloan offered.
“I can’t imagine your Delaware folks would want a Texas boy representing them, especially not one like me.” Sloan bit his lip as he dabbed the corner of Upton’s mouth with a napkin. Even on happy occasions, a heaviness hung around Sloan, weighing him down. Like he believed he’d never be seen as equal by those around him.
Upton had seen some of Sloan’s hate mail. Maybe Upton’s liberal constituency would accept Sloan and take him in stride, but most of the country wasn’t as kind. It had to be difficult to go from such secrecy, living in a highly private bubble, to this level of public scrutiny and dissection.
As before, Sloan shrugged it off, smiling again and leaning in to kiss Upton slowly. The kiss lingered, remaining sweetly chaste, but Sloan lifted his hand to cradle Upton’s cheek, thumb brushing beneath his eye, and then he pulled away looking dazed.
Upton knew the feeling.
“You’re good to me, honey. I’ll do my best to live up to the hopes you have for me.” Sloan drew an X over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You’re perfect as you are. But I know you weren’t working so hard to sit on the sidelines and be a trophy husband. I have your back.” Upton licked his lips, tasting the lemony seafood and Sloan. Some people might’ve been suspicious of an ambitious political operator, but Upton loved that he could engage with Sloan this way.
“Don’t forget, Sloan, you’re a Bennett now. You’re family. Someone attacks you, they’re attacking all of us, and we drop on them like a ton of bricks.” Upton grinned and fed Sloan the last of the pasta. “For all our manners and seeming civility, family is very important in this game. You matter to me.”
“Yeah?” Sloan’s expression spoke volumes.
Upton knew he’d never had family that valued him, never had the support system Upton had, and that he could give it to Sloan now made Upton happy.
It seemed to make Sloan happy too, even if he had to be reminded of it from time to time.
He sighed and relaxed, staring down at his empty wine glass. Then he looked up at Upton, cheeks tinged with pink. “That really does mean the world to me, sweetheart. I...” Sloan trailed off, looking momentarily, uncharacteristically lost. Then he shrugged one shoulder and finished, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Upton slid his still half-full glass of wine to Sloan. Biting his lip, Upton looked out at the crowd of other diners, happy families, new couples, old couples. “Even if you decide not to continue on with me, you’ll always be family.”
He gazed into Sloan’s eyes until the server cleared away the pasta and brought them their dessert. Upton didn’t like to bring up the possible dissolution of their marriage, but he needed Sloan to know it wouldn’t be the end. “You never have to wonder what you’ll do without me. Not as long as I’m alive.”
Sloan cut his gaze from Upton to the tiramisu and back, his cheeks definitely red now. It was cute, considering how little seemed to affect Sloan. “Thanks. I’ll always do whatever I can for you. I know it’s not... Orders of magnitude and all. But I mean that, Upton. I’ll be here for you too. You’ve earned that.”
Upton beamed and scooped a bit of the tiramisu onto his spoon to serve to Sloan. “You are here for me. This is really good, isn’t it? It’s not just—” Upton closed his mouth.
They were on a date, sort of, right? This wasn’t all for show. There was no press here. They were just regular people out on a date.
“Anyway, I’m kind of hoping the good movies are sold out so we wind up watching some trashy horror movie.”
“Ten out of ten, would attend trashy horror flick with you.” Sloan grinned and gave him a crinkle-nosed grin, like he was simultaneously tickled and surprised. Delighted. “Let’s finish this delicious mass-produced dessert and go get in some cheap jump scares. I’ll cling to you and pretend to be terrified, and you can put your hand in my lap.”
Sloan fed Upton a bite and then dove back in to score another for himself. And another. And another. Then he reined it in and smirked. “Mass-produced or not, it’s legit delectable. I’ll fight you for it.”
Upton let out a surprised laugh and then blocked Sloan with his spoon. “Come now, we’re politicians. Surely we can find a diplomatic compromise.”
As he spoke, Upton twisted his spoon and sneaked a bite from Sloan’s side of the tiramisu.
“Oh. It’s on, Congressman.” Sloan snaked around to nab another bite and then, instead of eating it himself, brought up his spoon to smear the creamy stuff on Upton’s nose. Then Sloan started laughing, a bright, infectious sound Upton had never heard from him before.
“You’ve played right into my hands, lobbyist. I love to inhale tiramisu!” Upton laughed and smeared a bit of his spoonful on Sloan’s lips. Before Sloan could react, Upton leaned across the table and kissed it away, then nuzzled Sloan’s face so that they were both laughing and sticky with tiramisu.
Sloan almost fell out of his chair, the wood and metal feet screeching on the painted concrete floor as he struggled to stay upright. That just made Sloan laugh harder.
God, he was adorable with that mess on his reddened face, his hair getting all mussed. He looked so relaxed, like this was just what he’d needed.
The other patrons were staring, though, and their server was approaching warily.
Sloan tried to pull it together quickly. He dampened his napkin in his water glass and wiped his face clean before clearing his throat and straightening.
“Are you all right, sir?” the server asked.
“Yeah, um. We’re great. I’m great. Could we get the check? Thanks.” Sloan’s attempt to sound okay was comedic in itself, his voice too deep and manly, as if he was aping James Earl Jones.
The moment the server walked away, Sloan’s expression crumpled back into laughter. “Oh my god, Upton, I didn’t realize you were... Y’know. Dear god.”
“Didn’t know I was what?”
“You’re such an overgrown kid. Seriously.” Sloan beamed at him, but then he sobered when the server returned with the check. He managed to feign macho nonchalance until the bill was handled, and then he resumed grinning and stood from his seat before moving to help Upton with his chair.
As he stood behind Upton, he stole a kiss and wrapped his arm around his waist. Then he guided him toward the door. “Shall we, Mr. Congressman?”
Upton led the way out, still a little sticky, but he was so happy, he didn’t even care. “Does this mean I can put my Millennium Falcon model on display? Mom said it made me look immature, but if my husband is into my being an overgrown kid…”
The hairs on the back of Upton’s neck rose, and he turned what felt like a fraction too late. A shadow vanished, and Upton was left feeling paranoid as he unlocked the car doors.
Sloan laughed, seeming not to notice the disturbance in the Force that was getting to Upton. “Yeah, you can put up your Millennium Falcon if I can put up my kinky toy display in the bedroom.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got big plans, hubby. You better watch out.”
Sloan’s promise of sex toys made Upton’s unease vanish. Upton felt his cheeks warm as he opened the door to let himself in. That was a joke best made inside the vehicle. Not that anyone was probably listening. They were just two guys out on a date. No press, no muss, no fuss.
Once Sloan was in the car and belted in, Upton started the ignition. “I don’t know if you want to make any displays. Keith and Bryant will be over Sunday morning. Don’t want to give them any ideas.”
Upton smirked as he drove them up the mall’s ring road to the cinema and lucked into parking. The car behind them apparently had the same idea but had to park further out. Upton turned to Sloan. “I was pretty serious about the horror movie.”
“Yeah, who cares about critically acclaimed dramas and blockbuster action? Terrible horror movies are where it’s at.” Sloan grinned and leaned over to kiss Upton gently, obviously teasing. He stroked Upton’s cheek and then turned to get out of the car.
They met halfway around the car for another kiss like a pair of teenagers, as if they hadn’t just been kissing thirty seconds before. Sloan reached around Upton’s body, not to hug him but to slip his hands into Upton’s tight back pockets and squeeze his ass cheeks. Then he chuckled into the kiss, smiling against Upton’s mouth.
“Think you can walk like this?” Sloan asked, over-serious as he tried to back Upton toward the theater. When they almost tripped over each other, Sloan relented, groaning, and pulled his hands free. “Fine. We’ll walk the boring way.”
Holding hands, they resumed their stroll, close and affectionate. It was like it had been on the yacht but amplified by the knowledge that they were in public. Everyone in the crowded entertainment complex knew they were here together, that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Unlike before the wedding, they were sleeping together, building something real.
God, it was thrilling.
Upton couldn’t believe his luck. This was a real date, Sloan wanted to be seen with him and was indulging in his love of bad horror. As if life wasn’t horror enough, but Upton enjoyed a little thrill. Often he got a good laugh out of it. He kissed Sloan’s cheek as they neared the crowd gathered at the ticket booth.
Perhaps it would be quicker if he bought the tickets online. Upton stopped and reached for his phone, distracted as he unlocked the screen and pulled up the app.
“Upton! Upton Bennett!”
The unfamiliar voice came from behind. Upton met Sloan’s curious gaze and shrugged. Could be press, or maybe someone recognized him and wanted a picture.
Putting on his fake, media smile, Upton turned and raised his hand. “Hey, man, we’re on a—”
All Upton saw was a black figure and the muzzle
of a gun. He didn’t even hear the shot, just saw the recoil in the man’s arm and then felt fire in his chest.
Chapter 13
“Oh god.” Sloan tried to catch Upton as he staggered, terror dawning as blood blossomed on Upton’s sky-blue shirt. “Upton?”
Sloan steadied his husband and then thrust himself between Upton and the gunman. Rage surged inside him alongside fear, overwhelming him until he couldn’t do anything but stare at the man approaching with his gun outstretched, braced with both hands. Behind Sloan, Upton crumpled to the ground with a horrible sound of pain, and Sloan thought fast, sizing up their attacker.
Could he take him?
The guy was still too far away for Sloan to rush him, and if Sloan left Upton... No, he had to stay here, had to shield him, until it was a sure thing, until he had a chance to....
To what? Sloan spent his spare evenings watching YouTube and doing crunches, not studying Taekwondo. He hadn’t been in a fistfight since he left home.
This was it. Upton was down, shot, and Sloan was gonna die, and he’d never even admitted to himself how hard he’d fallen for him. He’d never told Upton he loved him.
The time had never been right, and now it never would be.
Sloan held up both hands, desperate to buy more time, desperate to give them a chance. “Please, sir, whatever you want, let’s just talk about it, okay?”
“Talk about it? Talk about what? You ruined it. You ruined everything.” The man’s face was flushed and blotchy. He was unshaven, eyes red and bleary. It was difficult to get a read on his features because Sloan’s gaze kept drifting to that gun. “Me and Bennett. You don’t understand.”
Behind Sloan, Upton whimpered. He’d grabbed Sloan’s leg and was pushing, like he was trying to force him to run, but Sloan crouched, hands still up, but body shielding Upton. He didn’t know what the words meant. Upton had never mentioned anyone else, and certainly not a random middle-aged guy.
If Sloan could just keep the guy talking, maybe he wouldn’t shoot again. Surely someone had called 911. The police and ambulance had to be on their way. If Upton could just hold on—if Sloan could just hold off this lunatic—they might make it.