by Chelle Bliss
Of all the things I love about Jude, I think I may love his integrity most of all.
“This will hurt you with your base, though,” I remind him. “You know that, right?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. The base I care about doesn’t give a shit about political parties. They want a guy in there who can get shit done without playing games, and that’s me. I don’t care who anyone thinks I should or shouldn’t love. I love you. We’re together. Now let’s go let some lucky reporter break this story.”
When he puts it that way…I kind of want to have sex with him again before we go out to breakfast. But he’s right—it’s time.
We put on our coats and take the elevator down to his building’s lobby. My heart is pounding when the doors slide open, and Jude takes my hand and leads me toward the front door.
No photographers in the lobby or at the building’s front entrance. That means Carl hasn’t leaked anything yet.
“I figure the farther we walk, the better our chances of getting busted,” Jude says.
“There’s a diner about a mile from here with really good pancakes.”
“Pancakes it is.”
It feels surreal to be walking the crowded streets of downtown Chicago hand-in-hand with Jude. No one takes notice of us. For the first time, I feel like we’re a normal couple.
At Gigi’s Diner, we have a long, openly affectionate breakfast. Jude raises my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles several times. He keeps hold of my hand across the table and gives me a look of love, his eyes soft and affectionate.
“So…you lookin’ for a job, Preston?” he asks me playfully.
I shrug. “Not yet. I may go back to practicing law. Glad I kept up my license.”
“I was hoping you’d consider being my new campaign manager.”
I laugh at the absurdity of it until I realize he’s not joking. “Jude…”
“Reagan.”
“Really?”
“Why not? I think you kick ass.”
“But I’m a Democrat. The establishment would say you need your head examined.”
“The establishment can kiss my ass. You know me better than anyone. You know what I stand for. How to keep me in line.”
My lips quirk into a smile. “Most campaign managers don’t sleep with their candidates. There can be contentious fighting, you know.”
“Sounds like good foreplay to me.”
“The election’s so close that I’m not sure you need to name a manager. Just make someone on staff a figurehead manager.”
“Work for me, then. After the election.”
I give him a skeptical look. “Work for you, huh?”
“Work with me. Whatever you want to call it. Be my right hand.”
“So I can beat you off anytime you want?”
He smirks. “That, too. But I’m dead serious, Reagan. We can accomplish things together. Bring together both your supporters and mine. We can show everyone that compromise is the way to move forward.”
“I like this idea,” I admit.
“Good.” He draws my hand to his lips and kisses it again. “And don’t look, but there’s a guy shooting photos of us through the window with a telephoto lens.”
“How did you see him through all the people out there?”
He shrugs. “I was trained to spot people pointing something at me.”
“So, what now? Stay and let him get more photos?”
“Nah. He’s gotten plenty. I say we walk out there and wait for a reporter to confront us.”
It doesn’t take long. Jude leaves some cash on the table for the bill, and as soon as we step outside, there’s a video camera on us and a TV reporter sticking a microphone in Jude’s face.
“Mr. Titan, how long have you been dating Reagan Preston?” a woman asks.
He looks at me and grins. “Not long enough.”
“How long did you think you could keep this relationship a secret?”
“We wouldn’t be here if we wanted it to be a secret.”
“Is she pregnant?”
He lowers his brows in a look that tells her she’s crazy. “No.”
“Don’t you think voters will question your credibility, now that they’ll know you’ve been sleeping with the enemy?”
Jude’s expression turns serious. “That’s the problem right there—the mind-set that any of us are enemies. Reagan is intelligent and passionate about making people’s lives better. I’m honored to call her mine. As for my credibility, I’ll leave that up to the voters.”
The mic is thrust into my face. “Representative Preston, is this why you dropped out of the race?”
“No.” I don’t elaborate, which draws a frustrated sigh from the reporter.
“But he’s against everything you believe in. How do you feel about that?”
“He’s not, though. Jude is the most honorable man I’ve ever known.”
Jude tugs on my hand and leads me past the reporter and her cameraman.
“That’s all for now,” he says, hailing a cab.
“Why don’t you kiss her?” the reporter blurts out.
Oh, Lord. She’s milking this for everything she can get out of it. But as a cab cruises to a stop at the curb, Jude leans down and kisses me. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he says against my lips.
We slide into the cab, and I look at him expectantly. “Where to?”
“My campaign bus,” he says, giving the driver an address. “You can stay with me now.”
“Actually…I need to go home and be with my mom. She’s dealing with a lot, and I want to be there to help. My sister Abby’s there now, but I need to get back so she can go back to work.”
He nods. “I’ll drive you home.”
I should probably take some time to settle into my new reality. It’s been a whirlwind, to say the least. But I already know that when I leave my parents’ house, I’ll want to come back to Jude. Our relationship is a big part of my new reality. Possibly the biggest. Definitely the best.
“I want you with me on Election Day,” he says. “And that night. Can you be there?”
I smile and squeeze his hand. “I will. I never thought I’d see the day I’d be celebrating with you at your victory party.”
“We’re gonna do this together, Reagan. What matters to you matters to me now. Other than gun control, I mean.”
I roll my eyes. “Here we go. Our ideological differences are going to lead to arguments, you know.”
“Yeah. But I’d rather have you than a woman who agrees with everything I say.”
I snort-laugh at that. “Good, because I don’t. And I won’t.”
“Work for me,” he says, a pleading note in his tone. “Say you will. I want you on my team so goddamn bad, Reagan.”
My lips quirk into a smile. “Persuade me.”
He clears his throat, fighting back a smile. “Excuse me?” he says to the driver.
“Yes, sir?”
“We’re actually going to the Palmer House, please.”
I consider telling him if more outrageously amazing sex at our favorite hotel is his plan for the morning, he might as well have an employment agreement for my hiring sent to my email.
But, nah. I’d rather make him earn it.
Chapter 29
Reagan and I are standing in front of the podium, but she’s off to the side, staring out into the sea of reporters. I clear my throat, giving her hand a quick squeeze before releasing it as the crowd quiets down.
“Thank you for coming today. Even though we’re on the eve of Election Day, I felt the need to clear the air and explain to the voters of Illinois about my relationship with Reagan Preston.”
Camera flashes are going off, momentarily blinding me. I blink a few times to clear my eyes and begin to read from the piece of paper in front of me.
“Reagan and I didn’t know each other before hitting the campaign trail. We’d never spoken before that first Q&A. But we quickly formed a friendship.
” I turn over the papers and decide to speak from the heart. “I know how that sounds to many people. It’s hard to comprehend two people who are so opposite being friends, but it happens every day. Reagan doesn’t sway my thoughts or opinions any more than a husband’s views change those of his wife. Many Americans have a significant other who has differing thoughts and opinions on everything from gun control to sports teams. That’s what makes our nation great. Our ability to embrace our differences and still love each other.”
I glance at Reagan and hold my hand out to her so she comes closer. “My relationship with Reagan has not changed my views or opinions on anything. I intend to keep my promises to the voters of Illinois. I know many people feel we should be enemies, but that’s one of the problems in our great country. We have to find a way to work together, a commonality to fight for the greater good in order for our country to be the very best.”
“I want to reassure voters that Reagan hasn’t changed me, except to make me a better man. She’s kind and gentle where my edges are rough and unpolished. I’m new to the political arena, and having her by my side will help me navigate the sometimes stormy and unforgiving waters of Washington. I look forward to representing you and all the people of Illinois in the United States Senate.”
We walk off the stage holding hands, while the reporters behind us are hurling questions and yelling our names.
“You handled that really well,” Reagan says when we’re finally alone behind the curtain. “You got this.”
I pull her against me and wrap an arm around her waist. “We’ll see when the voters go to the polls tomorrow.”
“Jude.” She brushes her fingertips against my cheek. “Who’s going to beat you?” Her eyes sparkle as she smiles up at me. “I’m the only one who could have.”
I can’t contain my amusement. “There’s no one else I’d rather lose to than you, Ms. Preston.”
“Maybe someday,” she says, leaning forward and kissing me. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
I smirk against her lips. “Well, I better get you to bed, then.”
She laughs softly and kisses me again before we make our exit through the kitchen and into a waiting car. I’ve had enough of the media for today. The only thing I want to do is get home, undress Reagan, and lose myself in her.
Six Months Later
“Senator Titan,” My secretary Gwen’s voice echoes in my office.
“Yes,” I say into the intercom and toss my pen onto the desk.
“Ms. Preston is here to see you, sir.”
“Show her in.” I’ve told Gwen at least a hundred times that Reagan doesn’t need approval or an introduction when I’m alone, but she’s so old-school she refuses to just let her inside. I think she’s old enough to have been working back when LBJ was in the White House. She’s one of the most respected and well-known secretaries in the Senate, and I’ve been lucky enough to have her join my team.
Reagan walks through the door with the biggest smile and Gwen following slowly behind her. “Hey, babe,” she says, tossing her purse on the sofa next to the door.
“Is there anything you two would like?” Gwen asks, pushing her glasses up on her face and grabbing the door handle.
Reagan glances behind her and smiles at Gwen. We’ve both grown attached to her and feel her motherly love that she often shows us…even when she goes overboard. “We’re good, Gwen. Maybe just a little privacy.”
She eyes us both and rolls her eyes. “You two should really eat something. Let me order you a late lunch.”
I shake my head and glance at Reagan. “We have plans tonight, but I appreciate it. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off,” I tell her, because she’ll find at least five reasons to interrupt us in the next hour.
“That’s a great idea, Jude,” Reagan says in agreement as she walks around the desk and puts her arm around my shoulder.
“I don’t know.” She’s suspicious and still standing in the doorway.
“We’re going to be leaving in a few minutes. Go home and spend some time with your family.”
“If you knew my husband, you wouldn’t say such things. The man sleeps all day, snores like a freight train, and drives me crazy,” she grumbles and starts to walk out of the office. “Family’s overrated.” She closes the door, leaving us alone.
After we hear her drawer open and close and her thick high heels click away from us, we both burst into laughter. “She’s a trip,” Reagan says, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“Yeah, she’s something. So how was your day?”
“Amazing,” she sings, climbing into my lap. “I met with a group of veterans, and I think I can really help them.”
Since joining me in Washington, Reagan has put her law degree to good use. She decided to take up my cause and is trying to make the life of service veterans better. She’s been representing the biggest veterans’ group in America and helping them try to get new legislation passed. Over time, their needs and welfare have fallen by the wayside, but she feels she can have an impact on how they’re treated and make sure they get everything they deserve.
“Yeah?”
“Yep.” She plays with the back of my hair just above my collar, and the tiny hairs on my arm stand up. “We’re drafting some solid legislation I think you can get passed. It’s going to be hard for politicians to say no to a war hero.”
Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, I say, “Politicians only do what makes them look good.”
“I know, but we’ll make sure to put the pressure on them. I have my ways, Senator Titan.” She giggles and wiggles her ass on my lap.
I pull her tighter against me and nuzzle my face into her neck, taking in the smell of her fancy perfume. “We have time for a quickie.”
Her hands push against my chest as she pulls her neck away from my face. “Oh, no, we don’t, mister. I told Kennedy we’d be at dinner by seven.”
“Didn’t you see her the other day?” I’m whiny because my cock could use a little attention after a long, stressful day on the Hill.
“It’s her birthday, Jude. Our first birthday together as sisters, and I don’t want to miss it for the world.” I want to argue the point, but she’s right.
Kennedy and Reagan formed a quick bond after she got over the initial shock of the situation. Reagan embraced having another sister quickly, and neither of them looked back. It didn’t matter how they came into the world; they’re now inseparable. Her brother Chris is attending grad school in New York, but she and Abby have spent time with both him and Kennedy since learning about them. I’m not sure things will ever be the same between Reagan and her dad, but she has no hard feelings for Kennedy and Chris.
Sitting at dinner, I watch the two sisters talk like they’re old friends, never separated by distance or circumstance. I can’t take my eyes off Reagan. She radiates happiness and love. Her capacity to open her heart and let go of the past is her best quality.
They look alike and even have the same mannerisms, even though they didn’t grow up together. But there’s a sadness in Kennedy’s eyes that disappears for a little while when Reagan’s around. Maybe it was growing up in the shadows, hidden away like a dirty secret, that I see on Kennedy’s face. She’s become accustomed to hiding it from the public, but around Reagan’s sparkle, it’s hard not to see.
“So how’s work going, Jude?” Kennedy asks while we wait for dessert.
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Said like a true politician,” she replies and starts to break into a fit of laughter.
“We’re not all full of shit,” I defend myself.
Kennedy gives me a quick nod and bites her lip. “You may be the only exception to that rule.”
“Hopefully, I’m not the last,” I say and smile at them both.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that for the first time in a very long time, I’m completely happy. The nightmares barely come anymore. Reagan’s helped me get over the trauma, along with a lot of
therapy. But when the darkness comes, she chases away the demons and helps keep me in the now.
“So how are the wedding plans? Do you need me to do anything else?” Kennedy changes the subject, which suits me just fine.
“Everything is planned.”
“What about the bachelorette party?” Kennedy smirks, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.
“We’re not doing one,” Reagan says, and I’m about to fall off my chair. I know my buddies are planning something big in Vegas.
Kennedy hits the table with her palms, and the spoons and forks jump. “What?”
Reagan laughs and peers over at me. “I’m taking the girls for a weekend in the Bahamas.”
“Oh.” Kennedy’s eyebrows draw together, and the sadness is back. “I understand.”
“Don’t be silly,” Reagan says, grabbing Kennedy’s hand in hers. “You’re coming too.”
Kennedy claps her hands together and smiles. “No boys, right?”
“None.”
“But we can pick them up there?” Kennedy smiles brightly.
“Like we’re beer?” I ask her.
Kennedy turns in her chair and eyes me for a moment. “Don’t act like men don’t use women all the time.”
I throw my hands up. “I’m not placing judgment.”
Kennedy’s satisfied and turns her attention back to her sister. “I promise to behave.” She pauses and laughs. “I take that back. You behave, and I’ll party like a rock star.”
“You do whatever you want to do, honey,” Reagan tells her just as the chocolate cake is placed in front of us.
“Maybe we should do a group trip,” I add, because thinking of them on their own in the Bahamas drunk and surrounded by men has me on edge. They turn to me with furrowed brows. “What? It’s an idea. It could be a lot of fun.”
“Jude, sweetie.” Reagan rests her hand on my arm, brushing her fingertips across my tattoo. “Go to Vegas. Party your ass off, but not too much.” She laughs. “And then come back to me.”
I smile and place my hand over hers. “Do I need to send security with you?”