Chapter Ten
“Mr. Vice President.” Brant followed Nick up the stairs to the room he’d set up for the children. “I need more information on who these children are and why Mrs. Cappuano is bringing them here rather than allowing social services to handle the matter.”
“Mrs. Cappuano, also known as Lieutenant Holland, doesn’t need a reason to bring guests to her own home.”
“I understand the sensitive nature of her job—”
“Do you, Brant? Do you really?”
The agent’s posture lost some of its rigidity.
“She’s very good at what she does. No one would ever say otherwise, but she can’t bring people here to stay without clearing them through us.
By now, you both know how this works. I’m doing my job, sir, and my job is to keep you and your family safe.
I can’t do that if I don’t have all the information I need. ”
“I understand what you’re saying, and as soon as Sam gets home, she can brief you on what you need to know.”
“In the future, that needs to be done before she brings home overnight guests.”
“I’ll mention that to her.” Nick laughed to himself as he imagined how that conversation might go. Sam marched to the beat of her own drummer, which was one of many things he loved about her. Trying to control her was like trying to harness nuclear energy.
“Do you find this situation amusing, sir?” Brant asked, visibly annoyed.
Nick liked that the agent was comfortable enough with him to ask the somewhat cheeky question. “It’s more the thought of trying to ‘manage’ Sam that amuses me than the situation itself.”
Brant’s lips moved a fraction of an inch in an upward direction, which was as far as he would go toward admitting he found that funny, too.
“I know we’re not always the easiest family to deal with,” Nick said.
“Understatement,” Brant muttered.
“But,” Nick continued, pretending he hadn’t heard the comment, “we do appreciate what you and the others do for us and the challenges presented by Sam’s work.” Who ever said he couldn’t speak like a politician when necessary?
Standing with hands on hips, starched dress shirt taut and tie still snugly in place after a twelve-hour day, Brant seemed to make an effort not to roll his eyes. Or so it seemed to Nick as he added pillows to the bed and straightened the comforter.
Downstairs he heard the front door open and Sam’s voice as she conferred with the agent working the door. What did it say about him that the sound of her voice after a long day apart made him feel elated? That he had a bad case for his wife, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
“There they are,” Nick said.
Brant stepped aside to allow Nick to go first out of the room and down the stairs to greet Sam and the two little blond children who hovered next to her.
With one quick look, Nick could see they were adorable and traumatized, which was why Sam had offered them shelter.
You’d have to be dead or unfeeling not to be moved by them.
She squatted to their level. “Remember when I told you my husband is the vice president?”
The little girl nodded, but the boy had no reaction.
“This is my husband, Nick. Nick, this is Aubrey and Alden.”
Nick squatted to their level. “Hi, guys. It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad you could come over tonight. This is Brant and that’s Leo,” he said, gesturing to the agent at the door.
“I’ve seen you on TV,” Aubrey said shyly. “Mommy says you’re cute.”
As his face heated with embarrassment, Nick looked up at Sam and found her biting her lip to keep from laughing. She gave him an I told you so look, and he knew what she was thinking. She was forever embarrassing him by talking about his so-called hotness. Whatever.
“Are you guys hungry?” Nick asked. “We have some pizza. Do you like pizza?”
“We love pizza,” Aubrey said, clinging to her brother’s hand.
His silence worried Nick. “Right this way.” He gestured for them to follow him to the kitchen, where he set them up with plates of the cheese pizza he’d ordered in anticipation of their arrival, figuring it would be easier than spaghetti at that hour.
Most kids loved pizza, and he’d taken a chance they would, too.
“What would you like to drink? We have milk, apple juice, water and lemonade.”
“Lemonade, please,” Aubrey said. “Alden likes chocolate milk.”
“We can do that. Our son, Scotty, is a big fan of chocolate milk.”
“Where is he?” Aubrey asked.
“He’s upstairs. I’ll tell him to come say hello.” Nick put the drinks in front of them and then sent a quick text to Scotty to let him know they had guests. He was in his room finishing his homework after dinner and a shower.
With the kids settled and eating their pizza, Nick went to Sam, put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Hello, dear. How was your day?”
She looked up at him. “If I forget to tell you, you’re the best.”
“Happy to help, but Brant would like a word with you.”
“Why did I know you were going to say that?”
“He’s a little unsettled about tonight’s developments.”
“I wondered why he was still here long after his shift ended.”
“He’s waiting for you.”
“He’s not going to like what I have to say.”
“I suspected as much.”
“He won’t make me…” She tipped her head toward the kids.
“I won’t let him. Don’t worry.”
“Are you allowed to defy your detail?”
“Let me worry about them. You have enough on your plate.”
Scotty came into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of the kids eating pizza at the kitchen table. He glanced at his parents.
“Scotty, this is Aubrey and Alden. They’re spending the night with us.” He’d told his son in the text that the two had lost their parents in a fire.
“Hey, guys,” Scotty said, approaching the table. “I’m Scotty. Mind if I join you?”
Aubrey gave him an assessing look while Alden seemed to shrink into himself even more.
While Scotty sat with them, helping himself to a piece of pizza, Nick wrapped his arm around Sam because he could and because he sensed she needed the comfort even more than usual tonight.
With the kids occupied, Sam cozied up to Nick, letting him shoulder some of the burden that weighed her down. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat.”
“I got you that Asian chicken salad you like.”
“God, I love you.” She kissed his cheek and gazed up at him. “Best husband ever.”
“As you would say, I do what I can for the people.”
Keeping her voice down so she wouldn’t be overheard, she said, “And you shall be richly rewarded at bedtime.”
His beautiful hazel eyes were even more so when he looked at her with desire and need and love.
How would she stand to go three long weeks without him to come home to?
“How long until bedtime?” he asked in the same low tone.
“Not long at all,” she said. “I’m spent from this day.”
“Not too spent, I hope.”
“When am I ever too spent for you?”
“Never, and that’s what makes you the best wife I ever had.” He patted her ass. “Go eat. You’re going to need a second wind.”
Desire was an ever-present thing whenever he was close by and often when he wasn’t.
She thought of him, and she wanted him. Even if “having him” meant being in the same room, talking, laughing, arguing, debating, parenting or watching TV in perfect silence.
Being with him completed her in a way that nothing else and no one else ever could.
And when he looked at her in that particular way, with the look that told her he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him, it was all she could do to remember the three children in the room.
As she ate her salad, she thought of the time, before Scotty had come to live with them, when they’d had sex on the kitchen floor. Those days were long gone with a child in their midst and the place crawling with Secret Service.
While Sam ate her salad, Scotty kept up a steady stream of chatter with Aubrey.
Alden hung on Scotty’s every word.
“Hey, buddy,” Sam said to her son, “maybe you can show Alden one of your driving games before bed.”
“Sure,” Scotty said. To Alden, he added, “Do you want to play?”
Alden looked to Aubrey, who gave him a nudge. “Go ahead.”
With his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, Scotty guided Alden out of the kitchen.
“My heart,” Sam said to Nick, watching them go. “He’s the best.”
“Yes, he is.”
To Aubrey, she said, “Is Alden always so quiet?”
“He’s shy. That’s what Mommy says. Is she coming to get us soon?”
Sam’s heart broke into a million pieces. “She can’t come tonight, but we should know more tomorrow.”
The little girl was thoughtful as she processed what Sam had said.
“How would you like to take a bath in my big fancy bathtub? I have all different bath bombs, and you can pick whichever one you like. What do you think?” Sam had never met a girl who didn’t love a bubble bath.
“That would be fun.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Sam offered a hand, pleased that someone would enjoy the bath bombs her niece Abby had given her last Christmas. Baths were a luxury she rarely had time for.
“Clothes,” Sam said quietly to Nick before they left the kitchen. “Will you text Tracy and ask her to bring over something in the morning? Her kids must have something they’ve outgrown that we can use until we have time to get more.”
“Yep,” he said, getting busy on his phone to text Sam’s older sister.
In the master bathroom, Sam turned on the water to the tub and got out the basket of bath bombs for Aubrey to consider.
She sniffed each of them before deciding on a strawberry-scented one.
Sam unwrapped it and handed it to Aubrey. “You want to put it in?”
“Okay.”
She dropped it in the water, her eyes widening with delight when the water turned red.
Sam tested the temperature and got out a towel.
“Do you want me to stay and help you, or would you prefer privacy?”
“I can do it myself,” she said.
“I’ll be right outside the door. Call me if you need anything.”
Aubrey bit her lip as she looked up at Sam. “Alden might be scared.”
“I’ll check on him.”
“Okay.”