I hope I didn’t just make a deal with the devil.
46
Murphy
Sabrina and I decided not to stay for dinner. She said she lost her appetite, but I hadn’t, so we made a run to the border and went through the Taco Bell drive-through. I’m fucking starving. As we pull away, I try to ease the tension coming off my girl in angry waves. “I still think this is more Game of Thrones than West Wing. Your dad is a total Lannister.”
She sips her drink before gracing me with her beautiful smile. “I don’t want to die looking for power like Cersei did.”
“No chance, Princess. You’re gonna rule the whole kingdom one day, just like Sansa.”
“Who does that make you?” she asks as she pops a cinnamon twist in her mouth.
Hmm. That’s a good question. “I don’t know. The Mountain was pretty badass.”
“The Mountain died fighting his brother.”
I shrug my shoulders and take a bite of my taco.
“I can’t believe you didn’t run out of there screaming.”
“No way, Princess. The only screaming happening tonight is going to be by you, screaming my name.”
“Come on.” She twists in her seat. “Be serious for a minute. I think maybe you should take me back to my dorm tonight.”
“Not a chance. Your bed is way too small. Plus, I’ve got to let Rocky out.”
“I know. I meant maybe you should drop me off . . . alone.” She leans her head back and closes her eyes.
I don’t bother answering her. I just drive us both past her dorm and back to my house. When I turn the ignition off, the fight comes back to my girl.
“I said I wanted to go home.”
“That’s not what you said.” I throw my trash back into the bag and face her.
“Jesus, it’s what I meant.” Brina turns her head to look out her window, avoiding my eyes. “I’m trying to do the right thing and give you space to really think about what my dad said tonight. Think about what it means for your life. This isn’t the same as being the life of the party, Murph. This is allowing yourself, your life, to be dissected. I’ll understand if you don’t want this.”
Fuck this. Reaching over, I unbuckle her seat belt and pull her onto my lap. I didn’t take the sodas sitting in the center console into consideration before I lifted her up.
Shit.
Her hip knocks over my Dr. Pepper, drenching my jeans, and I’m pretty sure she just crushed the remainder of our tacos. What’s left of them are definitely on the floor.
Sabrina moves her legs to straddle me, forcing her skirt up to her hips, then places her hands on my chest for balance. She’s trying to look annoyed. She may be going for intimidating, but it’s not working for her. Instead, she ends up laughing.
I move my hand to the back of her neck and grip her hair. “You’re the dumbest smart person I know. Do you seriously not get it? You’re my life. I’m not going anywhere. Your daddy isn’t going to scare me off. The press isn’t going to scare me off, and if the evil queen didn’t scare me off already, she sure as hell isn’t going to do it now.”
I lower my lips to hers. What starts as a gentle kiss quickly becomes more. Sabrina mewls softly and wiggles around until she gets comfortable on my lap.
My cock grows painfully hard, feeling her warmth hovering over me. “I love you. We can deal with the rest as it comes. We don’t even know if your dad’s gonna win.”
She leans her forehead to mine, trying to get control of her ragged breathing. “He never loses, Aiden.”
“Then we can have our wedding in the White House for all I care.” My hands drop down to her skirt, pushing it further up. “I’m not giving you up, Sabrina, and I’m sure as hell not going to let you throw us away. I don’t think everybody gets a chance at what we have.”
My girl leans back, trying to give me better access. “Promise to tell me if it starts to get to you? The pressure is going to be insane.”
“Do you know what the best stress reliever in the world is?”
Her cold hands reach under my sweater and start to unbuckle my belt. “I bet you’re going to tell me.”
“I can do better than that, Princess. I don’t know about you, but some things need to be experienced. Telling you about it isn’t always enough . . . or as much fun.”
“Still a game, huh?” The smile on her face is everything.
“Princess, you’ll always be my most worthy opponent. My most hard-won game. My greatest win.”
“Love you, Aiden.”
“More than anything, Sabrina.”
When we slip out of the car minutes later, Sabrina’s tights are ripped in hidden places, and the smile on her face is the greatest trophy I’ll ever win. Rocky greets us at the door, and Nattie looks over her shoulder on the couch, looking as excited to see us as the dog is.
Nat throws the remote on the table, then turns around. “How did it go? You’re both still in one piece, so that’s a good sign, right?”
Brina sighs as she moves toward Nat. I make my way to the kitchen, trying to give her a little space.
Bash is bent over with his head in the fridge.
“Hey, man. Grab me a beer while you’re in there.”
He takes out two bottles, pops the caps, and hands me one before we tap them together. “Cheers, brother. How’d you make out tonight? Sabrina okay?”
I look over at the girls. Brina and Nattie’s heads are angled together as they quietly discuss something. “She’s gonna be.”
Group Text:
Chloe: Sabrina!!!
Chloe: What happened with the epic showdown between you and your mom tonight?
Sabrina: She no-showed.
Annabelle: WHAT?
Sabrina: Yup. We ended up talking to my dad instead.
Chloe: And . . .?
Sabrina: We worked it out.
Annabelle: That’s it? That’s all you’re giving us?
Nattie: Does she give it as good as my brother does?
Annabelle: Shut it, Natalie!!!
Chloe: Don’t be a hypocrite, Nat. You’re the original brother-banger.
Sabrina: Gross!
Nattie: But I don’t deny it. Belles doesn’t want to own it.
Annabelle: IT WAS ONE TIME!
Annabelle: I’ve had to recharge my damn vibrator a million times since then!
Annabelle: I just ordered a new one because my fave just doesn’t do the trick now!
Annabelle: Can we please drop it now???
Nattie: Fine. Sorry. I just really thought you were into him.
Annabelle: We scratched an itch, Nat. That’s it.
Sabrina: Pretty sure they’ve got ointment for that.
Chloe: Damn, girl! Good one. Murphy’s rubbing off on you!
Sabrina: That’s not all he’s rubbing. Good night girls!!
47
Murphy
A week later, Sabrina and I are mingling in the grand ballroom of the Rittenhouse Hotel, a gorgeous boutique hotel not far from Kroydon Hills. The massive room has big arched windows framing an entire wall. Shimmering chandeliers are dotting the boxed ceiling and the overpowering scent of flowers from the tall red, white, and blue floral arrangements is making my nose itch. The drinks are flowing, and the energy is building to a fevered pitch through the room.
We’re waiting for the political pundits to officially call the race in favor of Senator Cabot. It was a closer race than anyone expected this morning. But by mid-afternoon, the senator had a hefty lead. Now it’s just a matter of formality. The senator has won this race. There’s no way for his opponent to overtake him now.
Sabrina’s currently talking to her dad’s speechwriter, probably going over last-minute changes.
I swear she’s spent more time polishing this speech than I knew was possible. I’ve heard her read it so many times, I think I’ve memorized it. She’s holding a bottle of water in her left hand. Light is glinting off the crown on the charm bracelet hanging from her wrist.
She may be worried about what’s going to happen to her life because of her father’s political aspirations, but I have no doubt she’s going to be fine. Better than fine. My girl is going to thrive. She may never see herself the way I do, but she was born to do this.
I lean against one of the many white pillars scattered through the room, taking it all in when I see Mrs. Cabot approaching. Steeling my spine and schooling my face, I greet her. “Mrs. Cabot. I didn’t realize you and the senator had come downstairs already?”
“Harrison wants to be down here for the official announcement. It should be made soon.”
I nod but say nothing. I haven’t seen her since the night at the Union League and don’t exactly know how I’m supposed to respond.
She places her glass of champagne on the table. “Aiden, I owe you an apology and an explanation.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Cabot.”
“Please, call me Elizabeth. It’s not fine. My daughter isn’t speaking to me. You mean something to her, which means I need to get to know you and give you the benefit of the doubt. I am sorry for what I said. If you choose to believe me, that is up to you.
“I love my family, Aiden. I have dedicated my life to them and would protect them from making a mistake at all costs. I’m sure you’ll understand that one day. But, in the course of trying to protect them, I managed to hurt my daughter, and for that, I am sorry.”
Her eyes dance over Sabrina before taking in the rest of the room and finally coming back to meet mine. “Prove me wrong, Aiden. I’m giving you a chance. I want nothing more than for you to prove me wrong. Make her happy. Make her proud of you and proud to be with. If you do that, I will be your biggest champion.”
Mrs. Cabot steps closer, lowering her voice. “But, make no mistake, if you hurt her, I will make sure you hurt worse. My husband may seem like the strong, scary politician, but he’s got nothing on me.”
Sabrina chooses that moment to join this strange little head trip of a conversation, head held high, a look of complete control on her face. “Do you need something, Mother?”
“Sabrina, your father would like you and Aiden to join us on stage for the announcement.” Mrs. Cabot looks to me, smiles a predatory smile, and links her arm through mine. “Game time.”
I hold my other arm out for Sabrina and escort these two women up the stairs and onto the stage.
The queen and the princess.
As I look out from the stage, I wonder if this is what my life will be like by her side.
Will she change her mind?
Will she want to be the king instead of the kingmaker one day?
Or will she be happy to stay behind the scenes?
Either way, I’ll be there to protect her and support her.
Hours later, when we crawl under the cool sheets, exhausted, Sabrina lays her head over my heart as her fingers trace circles on my chest. “What did my mother say to you earlier?”
“I think we came to a mutual understanding.”
She leans up on her elbow, her dark hair tumbling down around her shoulders and chocolate-brown eyes boring into my soul. “Oh yeah? What kind of an understanding?”
“An easy one.”
She pinches her eyes shut. “That’s really all you’re going to give me?”
Leaning up, I brush my lips over hers. “Yup.” Then flip her onto her back, my hands caging her in. “Move in with me, Sabrina.”
“That didn’t sound like a question.”
“That’s because it wasn’t. You spend every night in my bed already. Why waste time going back and forth to your dorm room every day? You are my home, Sabrina. Why not make it official?”
“Are your roommates okay with adding another person to the house? Did you even ask them?”
“Of course I asked them. They love you, Princess. Your kind of crazy fits in perfectly here.” I cover her lips with mine before she gets the chance to protest. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
Epilogue
Murphy
Four Years Later
“To Murphy and Sabrina.” Seven crystal glasses containing twenty-five-year-old Macallan whiskey are clinked in celebration.
We’ve rented out an entire resort on the island of Kauai, so we can guarantee our privacy from prying eyes and the nosey press. In less than an hour, Sabrina Cabot is going to become my wife, and I can’t wait.
The warm ocean breeze blows through the open doors of the hut we’re in while the finishing touches are being placed on the ceremony space.
My future father-in-law places his crystal tumbler down on the table and slaps me on the back. “I’m going to go to Sabrina. Would you like me to relay a message for you, son?”
“No, thank you, Harrison.” I never thought I’d be calling the President of the United States by his first name, but when you’ve been living with his daughter for over three years, he tends to insist on it.
Looking around at my family, I can’t believe we’re all here. All together. There was a crazy complication with Coop this week, and for a hot minute, I thought he wasn’t going to make it, but he did. Sabrina wanted something small and intimate. Pretty sure she broke her mother’s black heart when she refused a White House wedding and insisted on a small island ceremony, far away from all of the cameras, with just our family and closest friends.
I was sold when she showed me the private huts on stilts over the water and promised we could have two weeks of uninterrupted relaxation once we said “I do.”
This last year has been a constant practice in controlled chaos. Sabrina was right, her father ran for President and won. I had no idea what went into getting elected to any office, let alone the most powerful one in the country, until I was on the inside looking out.
It was intense.
He was sworn in a few months before Sabrina graduated from Kroydon University. My girl was on the fast-track, and between extra classes and her kick-ass internships, she did it in three years instead of four. It wasn’t easy when she moved down to Washington, DC, to start law school at Georgetown University. After over two years of going to bed together every night, we barely saw each other that fall until football season ended. That Christmas, she agreed to be my wife when I asked her under the mistletoe at the White House.
It’s a crazy thing having your own Secret Service agents, but we both have our own teams now. I’ll never get used to it.
The following spring, I was drafted to the Baltimore Sentinels. I asked my stepfather once if he had anything to do with me getting drafted close to Sabrina, and he just smiled and walked away. I don’t really care how I got there, I was there. I moved into Sabrina’s brownstone faster than you can say football.
Finally.
We were back together. She had one more year to go until she finished law school, and I knew my first year in the pros would be like nothing I’d ever seen, so we agreed to a small ceremony in June before training camp. Now, here we are, less than an hour away from that moment, and I’m ready to drag her out to the minister and get this shit moving. I want my ring on her finger and my name added to hers.
She asked me if I would care if she hyphenated her name.
Sabrina Cabot-Murphy.
I told her as long as she was my wife, she could call herself whatever she wanted. I just wanted her to legally be mine. I’d been waiting for it since my freshman year of college.
Maybe longer.
That brings me to this moment, standing here with my best friends, stepfather, and stepbrothers with me. We’re all dressed similarly in khaki linen pants and white linen shirts with the sleeves rolled up.
No shoes.
No ties.
Relaxed.
That was what Sabrina wanted. She didn’t want fussy. She didn’t want stress. Only our family and closest friends here to celebrate with us.
“Murph.” Cooper claps my shoulder. “Who would have thought you’d be the first of the four of us to get married and make an honest woman out of your girl?”
My lips tip up. He’s still breaking Brady’s balls.
“What the hell, little brother?” Declan glares at Coop. “Don’t I count? I made an honest woman out of my woman.”
“Sorry, Dec.” Coop throws his arm around Dec’s shoulders. “Doesn’t count if you knocked her up first.”
“Watch it, asshole. That’s my wife.”
“Suck it, Dec,” Cooper laughs. “She knows I love her and my nieces. Best damn thing to ever happen to your sorry ass. Besides, you aren’t the one I’m trying to give shit to.”
Brady shakes his head. “I’m marrying your sister in a month, asshole. I’m making an honest woman out of her.”
Everyone but Coach laughs. He just shakes his head. “Alright. That’s enough. You know we’re proud of you, Murphy. Sabrina’s a good girl. Be good to each other. Never stop talking, and never stop laughing. Even when things get tough.”
Bash adds, “And never piss her off too bad since there’s an armed Secret Service agent outside your door.”
Coach raises his glass. “To Murphy.”
Everyone joins in, “To Murphy.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing at the end of the warm sand aisle on the private beach, waiting for my future wife. Sebastian, Cooper, Brady, and Declan are by my side. My mom is sitting in the front row with Coach next to her, holding her hand. She’s already dabbing away tears as two beautiful little identical blonde toddlers walk down the aisle. They’re supposed to be throwing flower petals on the ground but are aiming them at each other.
Definitely Sinclairs.
The bridesmaids come next, each one gorgeous in their teal blue Grecian gowns and bare feet.
Then the music changes. Ingrid Michaelson’s rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You” begins to play through the speakers, and there she is.
My entire world.
She takes my breath away in a beautiful white silk gown that skims over her curves and brushes the sand.
More Than A Game (The Kings of Kroydon Hills Book 2) Page 25
