In Bed With the Opposition

by Stephanie Draven

  “Yes or no, Grace. Do I have your word?”

  “Sure,” she said with a decisive nod. “What’s your second condition?”

  Ethan folded his arms. “There’s only one reason in the world I’d ever work for your boss.”

  “Which is?” she asked, draining the last of her latte.

  Ethan’s green eyes narrowed in a predatory way. “The only reason I’d work for your boss is to seduce you into a very public and very pleasurable—I promise—campaign romance.”

  …

  The strangled gurgle in her throat made it sound as if she were choking. Oh, she was choking. It was everything she could do not to spray that last swallow of Starbucks. While she coughed, Ethan continued, “Think of it, Grace! Your boss has everything going for him but his age. He’s old and tired. Young, hot staffers having a love affair make good public interest stories.”

  Grace fought back her piqued interest with the sheer force of her indignation. “Is my career a joke to you? Or are you implying that I’m part of your signing bonus?”

  That sobered him. “Oh, Jesus. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. Sometimes I think I’m being funny—”

  “You know how it is in this business,” she said, imagining the stories the media could run with perfect, and horrifying, clarity. “It’s still an Old Boys’ Club. Women politicians can’t shed a tear without being thought weak, and they can’t wear a lacy blouse without being accused of trading on sex appeal. I’m good at my job. I’m serious about it. But I have to prove myself every day.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight. I don’t want to work for your boss, and you don’t want me to work for him, either. So let’s forget it.”

  Grace exhaled with relief. She felt bad that she’d failed the senator because she prided herself on being able to deliver on whatever he asked, but he couldn’t blame her for this. She’d tried. Maybe not hard enough, but she’d given it a go.

  “So that’s the end of it,” Grace said, clearing her throat.

  “Not quite. You owe me answers. What happened in law school?”

  Right. She’d promised, hadn’t she? Her stomach spun in time with the machines. What whitewashed half-truth could she spin to get him to drop the subject? “It’s not that mysterious. I flunked out, took my wounded pride, and fled.”

  That wasn’t nearly the whole story, but it was close enough. On the morning of her exams, when her study partner Dale Delmont sent her that picture, Grace had been sick over it. Seeing the obscene image of herself, kneeling in front of Ethan, had crushed her. But when accompanied by Dale’s veiled but unmistakable threat to post it to the Internet if she didn’t use her connections to get him a job on Capitol Hill, Grace had fallen apart. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on her civil procedure exam, and she didn’t even show up for the one on constitutional law. One failed exam was enough to put her on academic probation.

  Two failed exams, well…

  “I don’t buy it,” Ethan said. “You were a straight-A student. You knew that stuff.”

  “I guess I broke under pressure. Then I couldn’t face anybody. Not even you.”

  He still didn’t look convinced. “So you just quit?”

  He probably hadn’t quit anything in his life. He never knew when to stop, after all. “I took some time off, Ethan. That’s all. I’m going back, someday.”

  “When?”

  Grace pressed her lips together. Every year, she told herself she’d go back to law school. And every year Senator Halloway convinced her that he needed her too much. If she could just make sure that he won this campaign…

  Ethan leaned against one of the drying machines, his eyes narrowed as if he suspected there was more to the story. “You should’ve told me…I would’ve tried to help.”

  As Grace remembered it, he’d helped her out of her clothes and into the worst trouble of her life. “Really? Because exam week, when I should have been studying, I was with you.”

  Ethan blanched.

  She shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have made it sound like it was his fault. He didn’t deserve the blame. She’d been out of control, a more than willing participant. She found herself wanting to explain. “I don’t know how much you remember about what we did together, Ethan, but—”

  “Oh, I remember everything.”

  Grace blundered on in a whisper. “Then you remember how we kept taking bigger risks. In the elevator, in the back of your car…”

  She hadn’t meant to make it sound provocative, but his breath caught. “Grace, you’re killing me here.”

  Burning with embarrassment, she tried one last time. “The night you asked me to meet you in the library’s glass stairway—”

  She didn’t get further than that. Ethan trapped her against the machine before she could say anything more. “Yeah. I remember. You drove me crazy. Every time I think about the things we did together, I still break into a sweat. But seeing you now puts every fantasy I’ve had about us to shame.”

  He’d been fantasizing about her? The realization that she wasn’t just some easily forgotten conquest was starting to sink in. After what happened, she’d felt trashy, low, and ashamed. But if what Ethan was saying was true, it changed things. Maybe it changed things a lot.

  But it was hard to think when he was so close to her that his breath warmed her face. It was exciting, but it also freaked her out. Public displays of affection were against all her rules and even though he hadn’t touched her yet, she had the paranoid thought that anyone who looked at them right now might be able to tell that they’d been lovers.

  She drew back.

  Ethan said, “I think you owe me an apology.”

  Maybe she did. Maybe if she just said she was sorry, she’d feel better about the whole thing. More settled. It would put some closure on the episode. And that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? Closure… “I’m sorry I just disappeared on you.”

  Ethan nodded. “And that you didn’t write…”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t write.”

  “Or call,” Ethan added. “Or return my e-mails.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m a guarded person. When things go badly, I throw up walls.”

  “You don’t throw up walls, Grace. You retreat into a fortress, pull up the drawbridge, and prepare for a siege.”

  The way he always thought of everything as some kind of battle always turned her on. She remembered how much she’d wanted him, how she’d been tongue-tied and eager to do anything he asked. And right now Ethan was so close that if she just leaned forward, she could kiss him. But other than being a spectacularly bad idea to kiss anyone in public, it would also be a violation of Rule #6 which explicitly stated that she was not the kind of girl who kissed first.

  “What are you thinking, Grace?”

  “I’m thinking that the girl you knew in law school…that wasn’t me.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners with curiosity. “Who was it, then?”

  “Some insane person,” Grace insisted, battling her urge to run her fingers through his unruly dark hair. “I’m very boring in real life.”

  Ethan laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Seriously. I don’t watch movies. I don’t read anything but policy papers. I work, feed the cat, and do laundry. That’s me.”

  Ethan knit his brows together. “You’re also a genius who got into law school a year early and now advises one of the most powerful men in the country.”

  Did he just call her a genius? She’d forgotten that in addition to being wildly attracted to Ethan Castle, she’d always felt encouraged by him. He’d always built her up. She’d also really liked him. Maybe it was her tendency to see things at their extremes, her need to put things into boxes with simple labels, that made her forget how much fun he was to be around even when he had his clothes on.

  “Grace?” Ethan asked, leaning closer. Impossibly close. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin. If she didn’t stop him, they were going to touch, and
if they touched, she wasn’t sure she could be held responsible for what happened next.

  She heard herself swallow. “Yes?”

  His breathing deepened. “I think you also owe me a good-bye kiss.”

  Oh, just a good-bye kiss, she rationalized. That sounded like closure, didn’t it?

  “Grace, if I kiss you now, are you going to think I’m a shady stalker?”

  She grinned. “Yes, and I kind of like it, but we’re not alone.”

  Glancing at the attendant, Ethan said, “So what? Kissing in public isn’t illegal.”

  Not illegal, Grace thought, but maybe not something a Senate staffer should get caught doing. And given what happened to her life the last time she was intimate in a public place, she was starting to panic.

  But before she could fend him off, Ethan pressed her back against the dryer and closed his mouth over hers. It wasn’t a soft getting-reacquainted kiss, but it didn’t feel like a kiss good-bye, either; it was fevered. His lips were scalding hot, and his grip unyielding. She couldn’t break away if she wanted to.

  Only when he lifted her onto the dryer did she get hold of herself. Taking a big gulp of air, she gasped. “I thought we were kissing good-bye?”

  “We are. I just want to make a thorough job of it,” he said, kissing her again.

  Her hands went to his chest to push him away, but once they flattened on the hard planes of his torso she groaned with pleasure. Her pulse raced. Touching him—even to escape him—had been a huge mistake because now she couldn’t even remember her rules. She couldn’t remember anything but how good this felt.

  His skin was burning hot. She tasted mint on his breath. The lingering scent of his aftershave hypnotized her and the all-too-familiar feel of her knees on either side of his hips brought back memories that made her toes curl.

  Ding!

  Grace broke the kiss, her breath quick and shallow. “That’s my laundry.”

  Ethan’s green eyes burned; he didn’t let her go. “Yeah.”

  “I need to put it in the dryer.”

  His gaze was lazy and lust-filled. “Yeah.”

  Beep!

  This time it wasn’t the washing machine. Both of them fumbled for their cell phones and Ethan scowled when he looked at his. “I’ve gotta catch my flight.”

  This was it, then, Grace thought, both frustrated and relieved at the interruption. “You don’t want to miss it.”

  “Listen, Grace…” Ethan frowned, dissatisfaction all over his face. “It was really good seeing you again.”

  She forced herself to smile. “You, too. I’m glad we, um, talked. The next time we run into each other, things won’t have to be awkward.”

  Reluctantly disentangling from her, he uncharacteristically struggled for words. Maybe he didn’t know what to say because he had no idea when they might run into each other again. Maybe never. Which was as good a reason as any for Grace to give him a fond farewell. “Good luck, Ethan. On your campaign, I mean. Whichever one you take, I hope you win.”

  “Thanks.” He started to the door, then stopped. “Good luck with Senator Halloway. I hope everything works out for you the way you want it to.”

  Chapter Four

  “And you just let him go?” Molly cried, throwing her arms up with such dramatic despair that Grace’s attention-starved cat hissed and skittered to the end of the couch.

  Molly O’Meara was Grace’s best friend and her opposite in most every way. Where Grace was buttoned-up, her friend was a blue-haired rebel with a belly button piercing and an ankle tattoo. Where Grace was organized, Molly thrived in chaos. Whereas Grace tried to help the people, Molly was a nurse, helping people on a one-on-one basis every day. They were the most unlikely of kindred spirits, but there was nobody else in the world Grace could talk to about kissing Ethan. “Of course I let him go. What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Jump him!” Molly said. “I would have.”

  Flipping through the last few pages of the Chesapeake Bay’s water-quality report, Grace pet Thurgood’s striped fur to calm his nerves. “You don’t even know Ethan Castle.”

  Molly snorted. “Oh, I know all I need to know. I’ve seen him on television and in the newspapers by the checkout lines. I might not be as flexible as that Olympic gymnast he was seeing, but just last night—”

  “Weren’t you on duty at the hospital last night?”

  Molly wagged one pierced eyebrow. “So was the cute first-year resident who showed me a whole new way to use a wheelchair, an exam light, and rubber gloves.”

  “Ew!”

  “And here I thought you’d approve. It was a totally sterile environment…”

  Grace coughed. “Hello? I thought we were talking about me, here!”

  “Right.” Molly grinned. “And we should be. Because this is the most interesting thing to happen to you in years. You’re dating two guys.”

  “I’m not dating two guys,” Grace insisted.

  “What else do you call it when you kiss one and agree to go out with another? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all in favor of the idea! Especially since keeping two guys on the hook is probably the most unconventional thing you’ve ever done.”

  Grace bit her lip, wanting to argue, but Molly didn’t know about the pictures from law school. “I’m not keeping Ethan on a hook…it was just a kiss. A good-bye kiss. It’s not going to happen again.”

  “Well, it should. You’ve got his number, right? Call him up and tell him to meet you next time he’s in town.”

  Grace looked up, exasperated. “Why would I?”

  “Can you even remember the last time you had sex?”

  “Of course I do! It was…” Grace trailed off, not because she didn’t remember, but because she didn’t want to admit that it’d been more than eight months ago, on Super Bowl Sunday, when Blain’s team won the game and he’d taken her back to his place.

  “See, that’s what’s wrong with you,” Molly said, sitting down and crossing her legs so that her skin showed through the hole in her jeans at the knee. “In spite of countless offers and the longest string of good hair days in history, you’ve allowed yourself only one wild fling in your whole life. You’re a prude.”

  “Excuse me?” Grace raised an eyebrow.

  Molly spelled it out. “P-R-U-D-E. Prim. Puritanical. Excessively proper.”

  “I know what the word means… Also, there’s filtered water in the fridge. You wouldn’t ever drink tap water if you knew what was in it.”

  Molly laughed, taking a big gulp just to spite her. “I’m just saying that Ethan Castle was your only one-night stand. You hate thinking that, deep down, you might just be a little sex kitten, but you can’t spend your whole life polishing your halo waiting around for Blain Halloway.”

  Grace felt mildly offended. “First of all, it wasn’t a one-night stand.”

  Molly rolled her eyes. “WhatEver. It was all sex, wasn’t it? That’s what you said. And if you ask me, you should have had a lot more sex instead of dreaming about how you and Blain Halloway are destined to be together like some kind of Mexican Barbie and Malibu Ken.”

  Grace smothered a laugh because she didn’t like to admit that Blain really did look like Malibu Ken. And she also didn’t want to keep talking about Ethan Castle, because talking about him only distracted her from the plan. The first time Grace set eyes on Blain Halloway, she’d been ten years old and he’d lent her his water wings for the family pool. He was a boy with everything she wanted in the world—a real family, an easy way with people, and a dazzling smile. How could there be anyone else for her? “Blain and I are destined to be together. He’s a sensible guy. We practically grew up together. He’s looking for a family and a future right here, whereas Ethan is just a loner and a wanderer.”

  “Grace, you’re hopeless! I’m not talking about marrying Ethan Castle. I’m saying you should call him and let him know that you’re available for a booty call whenever he drops back into town.”

  “Molly!” Grace cried
, scandalized. “Aren’t you listening to me? Blain and I are getting back together.”

  “Whether he knows it or not, right?”

  “That’s right,” Grace said, more determined. “I’m the girl of his dreams. And this time, I’m going to make Blain realize it. I’ve already picked out a Wonder Woman costume with a lasso of truth to entice him.”

  Molly sighed. “Don’t let reality interrupt your fantasy of becoming part of the Halloway family and living happily ever after with two cherubic children to dangle on Senator Kip’s knee…we’re never going to the movies, are we?”

  “I just need to finish reading this,” Grace said. “The senator really wants to get this bill passed before the election even if it means I have to work overtime.”

  Molly sighed again, this time with a long-suffering roll of her eyes. “You already work overtime. That’s your normal. When are you going to learn to stop letting people push you around, Grace?”

  Grace peeked up at her friend. “Not this conversation again, Mol—I can’t help it. I’m a people pleaser!”

  “You’re a perpetual twelve-year-old trying to win the award for being the smartest, most well-behaved girl in the class.”

  “Says the girl who spent all her time in the principal’s office.”

  Molly smirked. “Principal Daniels was pretty cute, now that I think about it. I wonder if he aged well… Anyhow, are you saying we’re not going to be able to see a movie until your boss retires?”

  “He’s never going to retire. I should, though.” Grace considered what it might be like to quit. Sure, she’d be unemployed, but there’d be no more getting home after dark every night to her surly tabby cat. Her dinner routine would no longer consist of stuffing takeout into her mouth with one hand and opening Thurgood’s cat food with the other. No more calls from obnoxious reporters, no more suggestions from sleazy lobbyists, no more mail from psychotic constituents, and no more Crab Fests!

  “If you’re not fetching the old geezer coffee, you’re covering up his mishaps,” Molly complained. “You don’t just work for Kip Halloway. It’s like you’re married to that old man.”