by Mary Whitney
To the shock of everyone in the room, Lillian leaned over, clasped Anne’s hand, and smiled. “I’m very reassured to hear that. Thank you for answering me so honestly.”
She turned to Stephen, who smiled warily. She gave him a confirming nod and issued her decision. “I have bridge at three today, so I need to leave shortly. I hope you two have a nice time together tomorrow.” She rose from her seat and smiled at Anne. “And I’d love to have you over for brunch soon.”
Chapter 11
On Sunday, Anne perched herself at the window of her basement apartment, on the lookout for Megan’s car. When it pulled up, she bounded out the door, climbed in, and received a warm welcome from Megan and her husband. Anne thought Marco devastatingly handsome, charming, and proud of his humble roots. It made her question everything she’d ever thought of the McEvoys—maybe they weren’t as snobby as she’d assumed.
As they arrived at the McEvoy family home, she changed her mind again, though. The stately building was ominous with gray stone and a grand glass and iron awning over the front steps. A twenty-foot high, decorative iron fence separated the house from the rest of humanity.
When Stephen opened the door to the house and welcomed everyone in, she gave him a quick once-over. She’d feared his idea of casual was a button-down and khakis, as he’d worn yesterday with his mother. Instead, he wore a T-shirt which clung to his body, accentuating every muscle normally hidden by his daily dress shirts. She’d never seen so much of his skin bare, and she thought he might as well be naked. His accompanying jeans were faded blue and slung low on his hips. He’d passed her test with flying colors, and she grinned.
After he took her hand and they all said hello, the foursome walked inside the palatial foyer of the home. Anne surveyed the entry, noticing every fancy cornice while Megan and Stephen spoke about dinner. When they reached the end of the hallway, Marco ushered his wife out of the foyer.
“So, come by the kitchen around six,” Marco called over his shoulder. “We’ll have dinner started.”
“We’ll be downstairs either in the gym or watching football, if you want to find us,” said Megan.
As they walked away, Anne heard Megan whisper to Marco, “Shouldn’t we check on them from time to time?”
“Absolutely not,” muttered Marco.
Anne felt a rush of nervous delight when she realized she would be truly alone with Stephen for the entire afternoon. She looked up at him with smile. Unsure of what to say, she remarked, “This is quite a house.”
“My grandfather built it when he was a congressman back in the twenties.” He shrugged and smiled. “It’s a little over the top. I’d rather not live here, but I lost that battle.” He motioned toward a door. “Come on. Let me show you the library. I think you’ll really like it. It’s my favorite room in the house.”
Through a sunny, yellow sitting room and two pocket doors, they entered a library, the likes of which she’d only seen in movies. Cherrywood bookcases ran floor to ceiling with sliding ladders that would allow even her to reach a book at the top. A few comfy chairs for solo reading resided in corners and by the windows, and a leather couch sat in front of a fireplace with a giant bearskin hanging above the mantle.
“Wow. This is amazing,” she said as she took her hand away from his. She wanted to explore the beautiful room by herself. As she admired the books and furnishings, the enormity of the McEvoy wealth hit her for the first time, and it made her chuckle.
“You know, stereotypes are reversed here.” She smirked. “I’m from the Republican family, but we’re middle class. You’re all wealthy Democrats. Go figure.”
“Middle class? Doesn’t your family have a ranch?”
“Okay. Upper-middle class, but still middle class. And yes, we’ve got some land, but it’s been in the family for generations. It’s nothing like your family’s ranch—I’m sure of that.” She playfully swatted his arm. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just think the role reversal is kind of funny.”
“I guess it is.” He smiled and glanced around the room. “As I said, I wouldn’t have chosen to live here.”
“Why not? It’s a beautiful home.”
“Yeah, but I live here alone. I kind of rattle around the place. It’s nice when the whole family comes for dinner or to watch a game, and everybody is always here when there’s a snowstorm. That’s fun. Usually, though, I feel pretty isolated.”
“I can see that, but what did you mean when you said you lost a battle? Why do you have to live here?”
“My mother thought it would be more senatorial if I lived here.”
“She’s right,” Anne said with an apologetic shrug. “Though I understand wanting a place of your own.”
He moved his hand to her face and gently stroked her cheek. She wondered what might happen next, but he quickly pulled his hand away. His brow furrowed as he briefly touched her nose. “You’re cold. I guess it is chilly in here. Let me light a fire.”
“Thanks,” she said, feeling a little awkward. “That would be nice.”
As he took some of the neatly stacked wood beside the fireplace and positioned it in the hearth, she sat down on the floor nearby. Pointing to the bearskin, she asked, “So how did that big guy give up his life?”
“You’d have to ask Senator York. He gave it to my dad as a gift years ago.”
“Interesting gift.” She glanced up and down the shelves. “Some of these books look old.”
“Yeah, a lot of them are hard to find now.” As he built the fire, they talked about his father’s collection of rare books. At one point, he glanced over his shoulder and regarded her for a moment. “How is it you’ve read so many books?”
“I told you I grew up in the middle of nowhere. I like to read.”
“You must. You’re making me feel inferior.”
“Yeah. Right. As if, Senator McEvoy.” She rolled her eyes.
The comment caused him to turn around again, and he smiled. “Has anyone ever told you you’re quite a smartass?”
“Not in so many words.” She laughed.
“I don’t believe it,” he said, turning back to stoke the fire.
“Okay. Maybe my brother. He hates it.”
“He’s your brother. Brothers are obligated to be annoyed by their sisters.”
“You speak from experience.”
“I do, but Megan and I get on each other’s nerves and we’re still friends.”
“What about Patty?”
“Well, I can’t say Patty and I are friends, but we’ve got an eldest sister/little brother thing going on. We’re each other’s greatest defenders.”
With the fire established, he leaned his back against the sofa and sprawled his legs across the antique rug. “But you’re friends with your brother, right?”
“We’re pretty close.”
“What would he think of me?” he asked hesitantly.
“Honestly? He’d be suspicious.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “As my family was of you.”
“It’s understandable.”
“They’re less suspicious now, though.” He smiled.
“So I got a seal of approval yesterday? Is that how we’re here together?” she asked warily.
“Come here and I’ll tell you.” He patted the space next to him and took her hand again as she scooted closer. “I’m actually happy how things went down. It smoothed some things over.”
“How so?”
“Ah . . . well, let’s just say it was good my mom had already met you.”
“So she didn’t think I was like Monica Lewinsky? A trampy intern?”
“Something like that.” He smiled. “It also made it easier when I had to tell my family how I felt about you.”
Silence took over the room, as Anne couldn’t respond quickly to something so heartfelt. She swallowed hard and quietly asked, “And? What did you tell them?”
The smile didn’t leave his face, but his voice was serious. “I told them I
care enough to take a risk, and I think you feel the same way.”
“I do,” she said under her breath.
His smile was so sweet she had to look away for a moment. She glanced down at their entwined hands and impulsively grazed her fingertips over his dark arm hair. When their eyes met again, neither said anything. They were alone, they were touching, and it was quiet; she was certain he would kiss her next.
She was surprised when he spoke instead.
“I’d really like to kiss you right now, but I don’t want you to think I got you alone just to touch you.”
“I don’t think that at all.” She laughed, but quickly grew more serious. “I’d like to kiss you, too, but I don’t want you to think I’m just here because of who you are.”
“And I don’t think that either.”
His eyes lowered as he inched toward her, and she met him halfway and tenderly kissed him three times. Each kiss was open and wanting, and afterward, he smiled. “I think we should do that again.”
“More.” She smiled mischievously.
“Definitely more,” he replied as he reached his hand behind the nape of her neck and kissed her again.
Weeks of sexual tension were finally released. She couldn’t get enough of him, and he responded to her physical cues with a quick maneuver so they lay on the rug. As they rolled around, their hands and mouths roamed each other’s bodies. She lost all sense outside the moment. Arching her body toward his, he found the button of her jeans, just as she wanted. When he abruptly stopped, she was disappointed.
“I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . .” He stumbled over his words as he pulled away.
“Um . . . yeah.” She looked down, confused by the sudden end.
“Let me explain. It’s not that I don’t want to touch you. I promise I do.” He moved onto his side and stroked her hair. “You’re so beautiful and special. It’s just that I told myself I wasn’t going to maul you first thing when we’re alone, and look what I do.”
“I think I was the one doing most of the mauling.” She rolled onto her side and smiled shyly.
“Maybe so.” He smiled and leaned on his elbow. With the back of his hand, he gently touched her cheek. “Given the situation, I can’t see how it would be any different.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I think we have a certain amount of . . . chemistry between us, otherwise we wouldn’t be going to these lengths, right?”
“I think you’re right.” She chuckled. “And when you add in the fact we’re a little frustrated by it all . . .”
“Exactly.” He laughed and nuzzled into her neck. “Hard as it was to stop, I’d rather not have our first time happen when I have to send you home at the end of the day.”
“That’s sweet of you, but how are we ever going to spend the night together?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll figure something out.” He ran his hand over her hip. “I can’t keep my hands off you for too long.”
“Obviously I’ve got a similar problem,” she said with a coy smile.
“Which only makes you more tempting.” He sat up and smiled. “It’s a little hot in here. I can’t handle both you and this fire anymore. How about we go out back and get some fresh air?”
“That sounds nice and . . . necessary.” She giggled.
After he poked out the fire, he fetched their jackets from the closet and led her through the formal living area. The walls and furniture were discreetly decorated in understated beige and brown, with more colorful pillows and curtains. A bank of windows showed off the expansive grounds.
Wandering through french doors, the two made their way onto a large patio dominated by a pool and hot tub covered for winter. Beyond, the yard spread into a giant L-shape around the house. Anne could only see a portion of it, but it was large enough that she was in awe of its size. The huge, mature trees and unkempt shrubs and plants made the land unique compared to the manicured lawns of most of Washington.
“You’d never know from the front of the house you have so much space back here. I love how it’s grown wild.”
“I like it wild, too. It’s big because my grandfather bought some additional lots and let things take their own shape. He didn’t like being in a city much. He missed Colorado. I didn’t really know him, but we have that in common.”
“It’s wonderful . . . very special.”
He tucked her closer to his side and kissed her hair. “I knew you’d like it.”
As they strolled through the grounds, she pointed to a small basketball court with a ball in the middle of it. “Who plays basketball?”
“I do. With Patty mostly, occasionally Marco, but usually it’s just me at night trying to hit some baskets when I’m stressed.”
“So you’re out here at midnight playing basketball by yourself?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Kind of pathetic, isn’t it?” The same soulful look of regret crossed his face again. She wished she could make him feel better.
Shaking her head, she attempted empathy with lightheartedness. “Not pathetic. Just sorta sad.” She tugged on his hand. “C’mon. Let’s play.”
“You play basketball?” he asked as she pulled him toward the court.
“Badly. I played with my family growing up.”
“Okay, then. We’ll see how you do.”
When they got to the court, she tossed her jacket to the ground, picked up the ball, and started a slow dribble. “Let’s play Horse.”
“Not Pig?” he asked and went onto the court.
She rolled her eyes and smiled. Standing up on her toes, she replied, “I’m not that bad,” and gave him a quick kiss.
When she pulled away, he grabbed her right back into a longer kiss, which made her drop the basketball. After a minute, he murmured, “Not bad at all, actually.”
“You’re not too shabby yourself.” She chuckled.
“Wait ’til you see me play basketball,” he said and picked up the ball. With a grin, he passed it to her. “Horse it is then.”
Talking politics and working up a sweat, they had a great time. Anne turned out to be no better on the court than she’d professed. It didn’t help that she wore boots rather than sneakers, but she was so good-natured, Stephen didn’t give her too much grief.
When she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, Stephen studied her. The way she held the basketball perched on her hip drew attention to her curves, already made prominent by the tight jeans and clinging sweater. She was a woman—a politically astute woman—but the ponytail and damp wisps around her face highlighted her freckles and made her look young and fun. He could picture her playing basketball while debating her parents and teasing her brother.
She had a family who loved her—and would hate him.
It pained Stephen to think anyone would assume he’d taken advantage of her, but it hit him even harder when he considered someone who loved her would think that of him.
She furrowed her brow and looked behind her. “What? What are you looking at?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“No reason.” Taking a few steps closer, he shook his head. “I was just thinking about what you said about your brother.”
“What’s that?”
“That he’d be suspicious of me.”
“Yeah . . .”
“It’s not true,” he said as he approached her.
“Um . . . yes . . . actually it is.” She cringed. “Sorry.”
“No, he’d be more than suspicious. He’d think the worst and want to kill me.”
“Oh . . . that. Maybe initially, but I could talk him out of it.”
“I still hate the idea that he’d question my intentions with you.”
“And what are your intentions?” she asked with a smile and an arched eyebrow.
He took the basketball and tossed it on the ground. Wrapping his arms around her, he smiled. “Well, they’re good, I assure you, but I can’t say they’re pure.”
“Yeah?” She wore a giddy smile.
“In fact,” he said as he kissed her neck, “they haven’t been pure for a long time.”
“That’s good, because mine aren’t pure either.” She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead.
“Mine are good, though. I promise,” he said, placing his forehead on hers.
“I believe you.”
“I’m glad.” He sighed and pulled away. “Because I haven’t told you about something that happened back in Denver. I had a run-in with Dan Langford.”
“What happened?”
“Let’s go sit down.”
After finding a bench under an old oak, they sat and talked. He relayed the entire scene with Langford and finished with a simple question. “So what do you think?”
“I think it sounds like him.” She shook her head. “Boy, can he be childish when he gets pissed, or what?”
“Really? That’s the way he is?”
“That’s what my dad says. Langford was probably surprised by how friendly you were. Maybe he felt foolish, so he got petulant and mean, and I was just a convenient topic to taunt you with. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Patty didn’t want me talking to him at all, other than to say hello.”
“Well, it’s nice you did, but I can see why she thought you should say hi and move on.”
“Because he’s going to needle me now whenever he can?”
“Yeah. There aren’t too many upsides to talking with him or his staff. My dad knows his campaign manager, Trey Johnson. He’s got a really hardball reputation.”
“I’ll let Patty worry about him.” He chuckled.
“But doesn’t it worry you at all that my name came up?” She frowned. “It’s not a good sign.”
He stared at her for a moment, debating whether or not to tell her Patty came to the same conclusion. He decided not to worry her, and instead repeated his mother’s optimistic plan. “He doesn’t know about us, and we’ll make sure it stays that way.”
