I involuntarily roll my eyes.
“Small arms or rifles or just artillery in general?” Vanessa asks. “I fancy myself a 1911, but that comes from being a military brat, I suppose.”
Ashton’s mouth falls open.
“Okay, then,” Vanessa smiles shyly and blushes a little in embarrassment at having blurted all that out. She takes a sip of her champagne.
As they stand next to one another I notice they are almost the same height. My brother, who towers over everything, looks small.
“All weapons, but mainly rifle,” Ashton offers as he tries to keep his composure and pick his jaw up off the floor.
“AR or sniper?” she asks again. “And have you shot a 50 cal yet?”
Ashton again can’t find words. “M-marry me?” he finally squeaks out and then we all burst into a fit of giggles.
We stand around talking for a little longer and then Ashton excuses himself for a glass of champagne. I walk with him, on a mission.
“Don’t even think about it,” I say with the bossiest tone I can muster up.
“What?” he asks, taken back.
“Vanessa is one of my best friends. I am not about to watch you flirt with her with your unhonorable intentions,” I say firmly. “Back off.”
“Who said my intentions were unhonorable?” he asks oddly serious as he checks out some hors-d'oeuvres. Before he pops one in his mouth, he looks me in the eyes and adds, “You back off.”
I stare him down a moment, his eyes a replica of my own. “If you hurt her…”
He finally chooses an appetizer and rolls his eyes. “I get it. Take a chill pill for crap’s sake, Reagan.” And with that, he walks away.
A familiar strong hand finds its usual spot on my hip as Lyncoln stops at my side. “Why do you have that look on your face like you’re about to destroy someone?”
I turn my glare on him.
“What?” he asks innocently, one shoulder moving up and down in a slight shrug.
“Ashton was ogling Vanessa.”
Lyncoln smiles and takes a drink of his soda. “And the plot thickens.”
I roll my eyes as he uses one of Ashton’s favorite phrases and turn back to watch the dancefloor. “You know me too well,” I say defensively.
“No… I don’t know you well enough,” he says softly.
I know exactly what he’s talking about. He means like without clothes. Naaaaaked.
I don’t dare look him in the eyes or I am confident predator Lyncoln would be there. Perhaps predator Reagan too, but I’m not sure.
Just then, Audrey, Wyatt, Lilly, and Jason find us.
“Hey, guys!” I say happily, glad for the interruption. Things were getting a bit toasty.
“Ms. Scott. Hey, Ms. Scott. Will you dance with me?” Wyatt asks.
I look at him surprised. “I didn’t know you could dance.”
“Lyncoln taught me so I could dance with you. Come on,” he says excitedly, pulling me towards the dancefloor.
“Okay then, let’s go,” I smile as I’m yanked away.
The fact that he was so busy but still found the time to teach his cousin how to dance speaks volumes. Lyncoln smirks back and looks at me affectionately given what he implied right before they showed up.
Wyatt turns out to be a pretty good little dancer for his age though he is quite a bit shorter than me, especially in my heels. While we dance, I see my family meet up with Lyncoln’s and my heart does a little leap of joy. This right here is happiness. But then I think of Hadenfelt and go, “Oh, yeah.” My happily ever after isn’t exactly securely locked in.
Until Hadenfelt is caught, my happiness could get torn from my grasp at any given moment. What is that man up to?
Where. Is. He. Lying low and waiting for the results?
Finishing dancing, we run into Attie and Knox. Attie asks to dance with Wyatt so I dance with Knox. Wyatt is overjoyed to dance with another Culling candidate, since we are kind of celebrities at this point.
“Do you miss it?” I ask Knox.
He shakes his head and laughs. “Not at all. Although Attie would have made a darn fine Madam President, I think we can both put our focus and efforts on other projects and see them to fruition, and that’s all that really matters,” he says confidently. “We can still make a difference.”
“I’m glad you are still in Denver,” I say wholeheartedly.
He smiles. “I don’t think Attie would have stayed without you being here.”
“Well I don’t think we would still be here if it weren’t for you two,” I offer honestly.
“Reagan. Quit. Do not feel guilty and do not beat yourself up. You are the only ones that can beat Marisol and Henry.” He pauses a second before continuing, “If it came down to Attie and me against them, they would destroy us. And that may be cold, but that’s just the truth. And whether Marisol is really all that evil or not, that girl, or anyone associated with Hadenfelt, cannot be anywhere near the presidency.”
That was a lot of words for Knox, but his logic is right, and, as usual, it removes the emotions from the equation. So of course it makes perfect sense the way he puts it.
“I don’t know how Attie can even argue with you,” I admit with a laugh.
He shakes his head but smiles. “Oh, she still finds plenty of things to argue about, trust me.”
I never would have thought with his quiet demeanor that he and Attie would be the perfect match, but they really are. Opposites attract.
Attie and Wyatt, newly best friends, are grabbing some food and judging by the looks on their faces, Attie is telling Wyatt which hors d’oeuvres are good and which ones aren’t. Knox goes to join them as my dad steps in. After that, I go in search of Lyncoln, but before I can find him, Henry finds me.
“Dance with me?” he asks with cheerful emerald eyes.
“Well, of course,” I smile.
As usual, he is graceful and moves us across the floor with ease. For whatever reason, he never dances with Marisol like this. Many people stop to watch and smile at us. After a bit, he slows down so we can talk and dance at the same time without me tripping over myself.
“Merry Christmas,” I offer.
“Merry Christmas,” he nods in agreement. “By the way, I love the dress.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “How’s your engagement going?”
He looks indifferent. “Oh, could be better, could be worse.”
The way he says it makes me laugh.
He smiles too and then gets serious. Fortunately, the music is loud enough that no one can really listen in. “Reagan, regardless of how my fake engagement is going, I really am happy that yours is going so well. Yeah, it will suck seeing you marry someone else, but I’m not mad about it. I want it to happen for you guys. I need you to know that.”
“Well thanks,” I say surprised. I’m not sure where that came from, but it’s nice to hear.
I feel Lyncoln’s eyes on me and sure enough, I find him across the room talking to someone and watching us. I send him a smile and he gives me a half of one back. No matter if we are separated and talking with other people, we always seem to keep our eyes on one another. It’s some sort of weird tunnel vision. If I’m honest with myself, we did it the entire time I dated Henry too.
Henry spins me around, making me laugh, and then starts a story. “This one time when we were in military training, and the girls were just falling over Lyncoln and he didn’t care at all, you know how he is… all rough and tough. I mean, he definitely took advantage but didn’t really care. Anyway, Vanessa’s dad told him that someday he was going to find his match and she was going to give him a run for his money,” he looks at me and smiles, twirling me once more. “That’d be you.”
My heart physically aches hearing that. Aches for the love I have for Lyncoln, and that those kind words just came from someone I hurt so deeply in order to get to my happy ending with Lyncoln. Despite the heartache I put him through, Henry still loves both Lyncoln and me. He’s a cla
ss act, through and through. I swallow down the emotions lodged in my throat.
He pauses and then adds softly, “If it was anyone other than him, I wouldn’t be okay with it. But it’s him. I know he’ll do anything for you.”
“Thanks.” I quietly add, “I’m not sure I want to see you marry Marisol. Mostly because I think you deserve more and I know you are settling. I don’t think there is a woman on the planet who I would approve of either. I want you to have only the best. Not this.”
He shrugs. “If it has to happen, it has to happen.”
“How romantic,” I say sarcastically then feel the need to get off the topic of Marisol. “By the way, how was the movie?”
His face lights up, dimples bouncing into action. “Legendary. The best Christmas present ever. I made Livie watch it with me. She doesn’t love it quite as much as me, but she’s coming around.”
“I’m glad she’s back,” I offer.
“Me too. We are all coming around and getting back to being the family we were before Mom died. Tasha too even, though I think it will take her more time. I’m even trying to convince Dad he can move on with his life now too since his time being President is coming to a close and since Mom has been gone for a few years now.”
“How’d that go?” I ask with a smile.
“Horrible,” Henry says honestly while wrinkling his nose, making me laugh.
The song ends and I give Henry a quick hug, letting him know how much I miss him. A friendly hug though. I don’t think Lyncoln will be too mad about that. Lyncoln and I don’t really hug, we wrap our bodies around one another. So that compared to what I just did is like comparing apples to cheesecake.
I go find Lyncoln, who is talking with Langly and Ashton. Ashton is standing between them, Langly in a tux on one side, Lyncoln on the other. Langly, I’ve learned, is kind of Lyncoln’s new protégée. Whereas Ashton is kind of his pet project. Langly is 22 and more than likely would have been in the Culling with the rest of us had he not barely missed the Culling age cut-off. With his military muscles and boyish strawberry blonde hair, I think he would have been a hit with the girls too.
Ashton, ever the clown, says something that has the other two laughing.
“Don’t the three of you spend enough time together already?” I joke.
“No, ma’am,” Langly offers with a smile.
“Langly, I really wish you wouldn’t call me ma’am all the time. You can call me Reagan,” I offer.
He smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lyncoln and Ashton both laugh and Ashton warns him, “Careful, bro. You do not want to make this one mad. This one time, she threw a rock at my head.”
I roll my eyes remembering the time he is referring to. “Yeah, well you were being an idiot.”
“It was a huge rock,” Ashton argues. “And you threw it. At my head.”
“You were being a huge idiot,” I explain. “Thus the huge rock.”
This makes Lyncoln laugh harder and I glare at him. He tries to quit laughing but fails.
“Shall we go mingle with the cabinet members, or do you need bro time all evening?” I ask him, pretending to be mad and failing miserably as I laugh along with him.
“I’m all yours,” he says looking at me affectionately. I can see both the humor and lust in his eyes. It’s a heady combination. Darn Christmas spirit is even getting to me. Nambity-pambity, as Marcia says.
For the next hour and a half, we make it a point to talk to all the cabinet members and some of our Denver supporters, including a lengthy discussion with Mr. Lowis and his wife. I also chat with the President for a little bit and Dougall and Elle as well. While talking with Dougall and Elle I try to find Jamie to see if he’s checking Elle out again, but he must be purposefully not looking our way. Brat.
As the evening wears on, people get chattier as the alcohol kicks in. The talking gets louder and the conversations get funnier. I actually find myself having a great time, though I would prefer to just dance with Lyncoln the entire night. I dance with Frank, my dad again, and the President too. I seem to be dancing with everyone, but Lyncoln has only danced with me, my mom, and his mom. After dancing with Frank a second time, who is quite the dancer, I head over to find Marcia.
I’m talking with Vanessa and Marcia, when I see Jade approach Lyncoln, I assume to ask him to dance. She rests her hand on his forearm while she talks and I see red.
“Oh no she didn’t. What the heck does she think she’s doing?” I don’t even know I’ve said it out loud until both of them turn to look the direction I’m looking. I want to storm over there and ask her to remove her dirty little mitts from my man, but instead, I stay put and watch.
He must tell her no because she looks pouty and he leaves shortly after. Sensing people watching him, he looks over to the group of us girls staring and gives us an amused look while shaking his head. Then his eyes find mine and he winks.
“That jerk,” I say but with a huge grin.
Marcia waves at him like a lunatic, like only Marica could. “Good God, girl, you do know how to pick them.”
“What about you, Marcia, anyone at home?” Vanessa asks while I giggle at Lyncoln not knowing how to react to Marcia.
She shimmies. “Nah. Can’t find one able to keep up yet.”
I smile then feel guilty realizing something. “Holy crap, you’re missing Christmas with your family for this.”
She shakes her head. “No, missy. I will be back later tomorrow afternoon and we will do it then, don’t worry.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say feeling better. “I still can’t believe you’re really here.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Marcia smiles mischievously.
Before I have time to ask her what she means, Vanessa asks about the voting next week. We talk about that for a while and Marcia gives me her heartfelt advice, which is to smooch my hot man as much as possible, and then we are laughing again. As if he heard his name, Lyncoln comes over.
“Ladies,” he nods, “May I steal away my fiancé for a dance?”
“By all means,” Marcia smiles and then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at us both.
I, of course, blush while we head to the dancefloor that has had a steady flow of dancers all night.
“How has your evening been?” Lyncoln asks.
“Magical,” I say. “But almost explosively so when Jade put her mitts on you yet again.”
“Henry danced with you,” he argues, though with an amused smile and not the least bit defensive.
“I haven’t had sex with Henry,” I say bluntly in an angry whisper.
“Okay, fair point.” He grins, enjoying our honest but playful banter. “Good thing too, or I would have to kill him. And I don’t want to kill him. I like him.”
I smirk. “Why did you bring Marcia here?”
He shrugs. “I just knew you missed her. This was something I could invite her to and get her here for without too many raised eyebrows, so I went for it. If we win, I’m not sure either of us would have the time or energy to get her here for our wedding ceremony, and I’m not even sure Dougall would allow it, so I figured now was as good a time as any. It’s part of your Christmas gift.”
“Well thank you. You are way too good to me,” I smile at him affectionately and kiss him on the cheek.
“Have we talked to everyone you wanted to?” he asks, pulling me in closer.
“I think so. I can’t think of anyone we haven’t talked to anyway,” I offer.
“Good. Then we are going to keep dancing. I’m tired of mingling. I would like to dance with my fiancé for the rest of the night,” he gives me that look that makes me just want to melt. Or kiss the crap out of him. Since it’s a rather public venue, I will try to refrain from the latter.
“Your wish is my command.” I use his words with a smile.
Dance we do. We briefly stop and say our goodbyes to our family, friends, and supporters as they start to leave, but continuing to dance seems to provide fewer interru
ptions. Dougall winks at me so she must approve. We dance and dance and dance.
When Marcia leaves, I make her a promise to find her in the morning before she leaves. I have been way too busy tonight to get to talk to her enough. We dance some more. My parents retire for the evening and so do Frank and Gertie. We dance some more.
We dance so much, my lovely heels are very much hurting my feet. “Lync. I think I’m done for.” My head is cuddling his pecs, too tired to hold itself up. My feet are barely moving, so I’m slowly just swaying to the music.
Over a third of the people have left by this point and most of the rest are drunk and chatting loudly. There are only ten or fewer couples on the dance floor. Everyone we know has pretty much already left, including Marisol and Henry and the rest of the people our age. I hate to be a whiner when Lyncoln seems genuinely happy to be dancing with me, but I am exhausted.
“One more,” he says softly.
“I didn’t know you were so into dancing,” I joke.
“I’m not. I’m into you,” he flirts.
When I look up at him, the look in his eyes motivates me to dance one more dance, stupid heels considered. As we finish, I’m so tired I think I’m going to fall over. My legs will surely make me pay for this tomorrow. I slip off my heels before we even head for the door.
Lyncoln pulls me, half-carries me off the dancefloor. We get in the elevator and I feel like I could fall over. Jamie and Rodgers are oddly quiet. They must be tired too, as it is almost midnight.
When the elevator doors open, I notice we aren’t on my floor.
“Where are we going?” I ask confused.
“Always so intuitive,” Lyncoln smiles and Jamie smirks.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
“And bossy,” Lyncoln adds.
Jamie laughs before I pin a glare at him.
Lyncoln doesn’t say anything more, he just pulls me down the hallway on a floor I don’t think I have ever been on.
We get to some wooden double doors at the end of the hallway and stop as he turns to face me. “I don’t even know what to say about this, but I hope you like it. Merry Christmas.” He leans in, looking a little worried, kisses me gently, and then opens the door.
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 44