Chapter Nine

Aphone call woke Nick in the middle of the night, which meant it woke Sam, too. Nick sat up to take the call from one of his aides. He mumbled a few words of acknowledgment and put the phone down.

“What’s up?” she asked when he settled back into bed. The nightlight they kept in the bedroom for middle-of-the-night crises of state made it so she could see the strain in his expression.

“I asked to be updated on any developments in Des Moines, and we have two more fatalities as well as confirmation that the father of the shooter has been arrested for failing to properly secure his weapons.”

Sam reached for him, and he snuggled into her embrace as she ran her fingers through his hair. He’d probably never go back to sleep after being awakened. His insomnia was an ever-present challenge to his daily life, never more so than since he’d become vice president and then president.

“I can’t stop thinking about all the poor families who’ll never be the same after this,” he said.

“I know. Me either. It’s so awful.”

“Part of me hates that we have to go there and make their grief ours when our own grief is so fresh.”

He was referring to the loss of her father in October.

“The holidays were going to be hard enough on us without this, too,” Sam said. “Saying that out loud makes me feel like an asshole.”

“You’re anything but that. It’s only natural to want to avoid something that’s going to hurt like this does, especially when we’re already raw.”

“That’s it exactly. Thank you for understanding and for letting me say that out loud, even though I feel terrible even thinking that way. Of course we have to go there and show our support.”

“Yes, we do, but we don’t have to like it, and we need to be free to express those feelings to each other in the privacy of our own bedroom.” He raised his head to kiss her cheek. “I could never do this without you by my side.”

“Yes, you could.”

“No, I couldn’t. I’d never survive it if I didn’t have you to come ‘home’ to every night. That’s how I get through the days, thinking about you and this and us and the kids. You give me strength even when you’re not with me.”

“Likewise, my love. I’ll find myself daydreaming about you when I’m supposed to be working.”

“Is that right?” he asked, his hand smoothing down over her back to cup her ass and pull her in even closer to him.

“Uh-huh. It’s like a fever I can’t seem to shake.”

He looked up at her with his heart in his eyes. “Please don’t shake it.”

She kissed him as sweetly as she possibly could. “I never will.”

“Promise?”

Sam nodded as she kissed him again. “Hearing what Eli went through with Candace made me hurt for them both.”

“Me, too. We know all too well what it’s like to be separated from our true love.”

“Yeah, I was thinking that very thing. I hope he hears from her.”

“I know.” He moved so he was on top of her, gazing down with love in his eyes.

“That was a very smooth move, Mr. President.”

“You liked that, huh?”

“I like all your moves.”

“How about this move?” he asked as he nudged at her with his hard cock.

Sam spread her legs and raised her hips to let him know what she thought of that particular move. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“What do you think of this one?” he asked as he filled her.

“That’s another favorite,” she said, gasping from the impact, the pleasure, the overwhelming desire that overtook her any time he touched her this way—or any way, for that matter.

His lips curved into a smile as he kissed her. “Of mine, too. Along with this.” He picked up the pace, moving in her like he’d been born to love her and only her, which he had.

After loving him like this for two years, she was convinced no one else would’ve done for either of them but each other.

Her body responded to him the way it had for no one else—ever. What had been so elusive in past relationships was as easy as breathing with him, so easy that he had her on the verge of release in a matter of minutes.

“Not yet,” he whispered against her lips. “Make me work for it.”

“I can’t. I’m easy where you’re concerned.”

Laughter made his body—and hers—shake. “Easy. That’s the one word no one ever uses to describe you.”

“Don’t make me mad, or I’ll take mine and deny you yours.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You want to bet?” She wouldn’t, and he knew that, which made it fun to play with him.

Still smiling, he shook his head as he kissed her more intently this time, his tongue brushing up against hers and setting her on fire with the movement of his cock inside her.

Because it was the middle of the night, she didn’t try too hard to hold off the orgasm that had been building from the first second he touched her.

He groaned from the feel of her release and let himself go with her on the best kind of wild ride.

“You gave up easily,” she whispered in his ear, making him grunt with laughter.

“Only because I want you to get some sleep.”

“What about you? Will you be able to go back to sleep?”

“The odds are better after your middle-of-the-night treatment.”

“It’s been a while since we did that,” she said, yawning.

“Because we’re getting old, and going without sleep makes us cranky.”

“You mean it makes me cranky, right? Since you go without sleep regularly.”

“You said that, not me.”

Sam laughed as she yawned again.

He withdrew from her and moved to his side, bringing her with him and holding her close. “Get some sleep. We’ve got some long days ahead of us.”

“I know,” she said, sighing. The trip to Iowa would be among the most difficult things either of them had ever done, and it was probably just the start of the difficult things that would be part of their new roles.

As long as they stuck together, she was confident they could get through whatever came their way.

Sam’s first stop the next morning—after getting Scotty and the twins off to school—was the headquarters of the National Pipefitters Association in Alexandria, Virginia.

“Had to be in freaking Alexandria, didn’t it?

” she asked Freddie, as they made their way through bumper-to-bumper traffic on the 14th Street Bridge.

She’d picked him up outside the Metro Center station.

“Most of the associations in the DC area are headquartered in Alexandria and Arlington,” he said between bites of the powdered doughnuts that made up fifty percent of his diet, or so it seemed to her.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Chamber of Commerce, and P.S., do you have stock in that doughnut company? Because if you don’t, you should get some. You single-handedly keep them in business.”

He popped another doughnut in his mouth and chased it with chocolate milk before burping loudly.

“You’re revolting.”

“I’m just a growing boy having his breakfast, and no, I don’t have stock in the company.”

“Don’t get that powder crap all over my car.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“You’re in particularly rare form this morning,” he said, “and that’s saying something since you’re almost always in rare form.”

“I had a long day yesterday, getting called back to work the homicide, and then we had a situation with Elijah.”

“What happened with him?”

Sam glanced at him. “You have to promise not to tell anyone, even Elin.”

“I won’t.”

Since she trusted him with her life, she filled him in on what Elijah had told them the night before and how Cleo’s sister was trying to use his history against him.

“That’s totally lame. How can she do that to a kid who just lost his dad the way he did?”

“We said the same thing. We met them when they came to see the twins—after their parents’ murderers had been caught and not one second before. They were awful people. Eli says Cleo was nothing like her sister and that she didn’t get along with her.”

“I can see why. What a crappy thing to do.”

“What I want to know is why they want the kids so badly. Is it so they can raise them in a loving home or because they’re attracted to the billions their father left them?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say the latter.”

“Me, too.” That gave Sam an idea that had her making a phone call to Andy. After she gave his receptionist her name, she was put right through with the now-predictable level of fawning that came with being the first lady. Sam rolled her eyes at Freddie, who was choking back a laugh.

“Hey, Sam. What’s up?”

“I was telling Freddie about what Cleo’s sister was up to and how I wonder whether they really want the kids or the billions.

That led me to question their finances, and I was thinking I could maybe do a run on the family members to get some additional information on that, but I didn’t want to do it without asking you first.”

“Can you do it without alerting them that you’re investigating them?”

“Yep.”

“In that case, I say take a look and let me know what you find.”

“Will do.”

“Be careful, Sam. We have all the advantages thanks to Jameson and Cleo’s very clear instructions on who they wanted to care for their minor children. We don’t want to do anything to mess with that.”

“I got you. Discretion is my middle name.”

Freddie choked on his latest doughnut, sending a cloud of sugar into the air that had Sam scowling at him. “That was not my fault,” he said.

“I’ll be in touch, Andy.” Sam slapped her phone closed and glared at Freddie. “Clean that up! Right now.”

“I’m cleaning it.” He ran a napkin over her dashboard, which only made the mess worse.

“When we get back to HQ, your first order of business is cleaning that up.”

“Yes, ma’am. Can we talk about how discretion is your middle name?”

“What? It is. I can be discreet when I need to be.”

“Sure, but it’s not like you’re known for it or anything.”

“I knew for hours that Nick was going to be president, and I didn’t tell anyone except Celia. You think it was easy to sit on that bombshell? I know lots of stuff that I never tell anyone.”

“Like, super-secret stuff?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, I would.”

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