“Wow.”
One of the things I really liked about Casey is that when I detailed another of my hard limits to her, I was pleased to learn she’s on the exact same wavelength as Leo and I when it comes to our feelings about The Fellowship, or The Family, or whatever the hell they’re calling themselves lately.
That Leo and I want them kept as far from Elliot as possible. And that if Casey or her two men are involved with them to tell me now, and we could part ways on friendly terms.
Also, I quickly detailed to her the issues with Stella and Grace, and the importance of insulating Elliot from those two women or any of their “friends.”
All of this is, again, stuff Leo and I keep off Elliot’s radar as much as possible. He needs his focus on his job and on his campaign, not on extraneous bullshit. It’s my job to shield Elliot from the bullshit. Leo will be able to help more once Shae’s out of office.
Casey will very much be a hands-on chief of staff in the way Kev is to President Samuels. In fact, she’s going to spend time shadowing Kev over the next several days to get some immediate information she’ll need for her job. I gave Casey the name and number of the head of Elliot’s Secret Service detail, and I called him as soon as I left the hotel. I told him she’d be in contact with him about her background check. Plus, I gave her Kev’s direct numbers.
She’s officially on the campaign’s payroll as of tomorrow. We’ll publicly announce her hiring next week. She wants to tie up a few loose threads on their end first, and I don’t blame her. Once her name’s announced, it’ll be crazy.
I stroke his head. “If you have a problem with her as your chief of staff, tell me now, boy.”
“No, Sir. She sounds great.”
“She’ll run interference with Stella and Grace. She won’t put up with shit from anyone. She’ll hold her own against everyone from Congress to the Joint Chiefs and the Cabinet.”
His hug around my legs tightens. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I only want what’s best for my boy. She’s the best. She comes highly recommended.”
“Will I get yelled at for not hiring a Democrat?”
“Doesn’t matter. Kev’s a registered Republican, and look at how much they’ve accomplished while in office. Angie will field those questions for you. It proves you’re willing to reach across the aisle. You’re picking the best candidates.”
“Why aren’t we hiring Casey-Marie as my chief of staff now?”
“Because then she’s hamstrung, in some ways. I’d rather the campaign be paying her right now. Gives her a little bit of freedom that being on the federal payroll will limit.”
“Oh. Good point.”
I get him back into his chair and eating lunch while I go in search of Leo. I find him upstairs in his office, where I close the door behind me as he looks up from his computer.
“What’s up?” He leans back in his chair, smiling as I tell him about our newest hire.
Once I finish, he crooks a finger at me. “Lock the door, baby.”
I do, while he pushes back from his desk and pats his lap.
No need to ask me twice. I quickly round the desk and climb into his lap, where he wraps his arms around me as I kiss him.
“You are a freaking genius, baby boy.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
His smile turns evil. “Lucky for you I have to head downstairs in fifteen, or I’d be fucking you right now.”
I throw in a little pouty lip. “Not even a quickie?”
“Sorry, baby. Can’t be late.” He brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “Two and a half months, and we’ll have our first fixed time frame.”
I know what he means.
Four more years. That’s the minimum, once Elliot wins. I’m damn sure not in this for Elliot to lose.
The best I can do right now is lay my head on Leo’s shoulder and hold on to him. “You’d better never run for office, Daddy.”
He snickers. “Never, baby boy. That’s a promise.”
We sit there for a few minutes, just soaking in the contact with each other. Leo’s a stronger man that I am, I suppose. He must be. I was miserable during the time I was gone, and here he’s now been alone three times that and seems to be doing okay.
Holding it together in front of me, at least.
I close my eyes as I bury my face in his hair and deeply inhale.
This is what I needed.
I needed Him inside me in some way, his scent filling my lungs even if His cock isn’t filling my ass.
My Daddy.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to let me convince Elliot to propose and, somehow, I force myself not to ask it.
If I do, I know he’ll say no.
Sometimes, forgiveness is far more valuable than permission. And easier to obtain, too.
“What’s in your head, baby?” He tips me back a little so he can look me in the eyes, his gaze searching mine. “What are you thinking so hard about?”
“You, Daddy. I hate that you’re alone so much.”
That is completely the truth, no mental gymnastics required.
Not a one.
His gaze softens. “I’m all right. As long as you’re taking care of the pet, that’s what matters to me.”
“But then we can’t take care of you.”
“You don’t have to take care of me. You’re doing what I need you to do. I need you to take care of the pet for me. You keep being Daddy’s good boy and do that, all right?”
I nuzzle my nose against his. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.” He kisses me, and for a few sweet moments it shuts down my brain and every thought in my head except one.
Him.
My world, my rock, my love. Always in the shadows and watching over me and Elliot.
My stalky Sir.
Finally, he strokes my back one last time. “I need to get moving.” He holds my arm to steady me as I climb off him, then he stands and straightens my clothes. A sad smile curves his lips. “I miss tying your tie every morning, baby.”
“We’ll find you a White House job, when he’s elected.”
“You know that won’t work.”
“Why can’t it?” A wave of fury rolls through me before I can reel it back in. “Why can’t we have you here in some way?”
Leo presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I’m always going to be with the two of you, in some way. Maybe not the way we all wish I could be, but the clock is ticking until we can be together.”
“And life is short.”
“That it is.”
I want to argue this out—yeah, I know, I’m an idiot—but Leo’s on a schedule and not going to make anyone else late just because we’re…discussing.
Except he gets me moving, and before I realize it, I’m returning to the West Wing and Leo’s on his way to whatever it is he has to do.
It sucks not being able to claim him. Not being able to just go out and do things like we used to. At least back then, even though I knew Elliot was first in his heart, I was the guy on his arm and in his bed every night.
Now, I don’t even get that much.
Plus, if I wasn’t so damned busy, it’d give me time to lift my head and really look at the future…
Then I absolutely would freak the frack out over the enormity of the situation. Of the totality of the responsibility I have, instead of dealing with each task before me in a piecemeal fashion.
Unless something horrible happens, chances are I will be the body man to POTUS.
* * * *
I’m not even back to my office yet when my campaign phone rings. I’m close to the West Wing lobby, so I divert there and head outside as I answer. “Jordan Walsh.”
“It’s Ken. We have confirmed debate rules and dates.” Ken Windham, the campaign manager.
Shit. This is the last thing I wanted to deal with today. We’ve been engaged in a pretty vocal back-and-forth with Boone’s campaign and the three networks who want to hold televised debates between him and
Elliot.
I mean, I’m not worried about Elliot’s performances against Boone. Elliot’s going to mop the floor with the guy. It’s telling that Boone’s campaign is demanding the debate stages be no warmer than sixty-seven degrees. The guy’s going to sweat his balls off. They’ll need to put down a bunch of wet floor warning cones around his podium.
I rub my forehead. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. We need to set up a practice schedule ASAP. I’ve already hired the consultants.”
Great. There goes what little sleep I’ll be able to squeeze in for Elliot.
And there goes what little time we’ll be able to carve out for Leo. “We’ll handle scheduling that tonight when we get there.”
“Are you all right? You don’t sound so good.”
No, I’m not. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I heard that. Oh, don’t forget about the cocktail party tomorrow night.”
“What cocktail party?”
“Over at the Renwick Gallery. You and Camden are going.”
Fuck. I’d totally forgotten about that. I know it’s on my calendar, I just hadn’t looked ahead that far yet today. It’s a small PAC fundraiser, but there will be some high-dollar donors in attendance. We made the decision to leave Elliot out of it for multiple reasons. Including that we don’t have control over the guest list. But we also didn’t want to piss them off and not have any campaign reps there.
Meaning we also didn’t want top-tier campaign reps there, like Ken. Nothing like seeing a story in the papers the next day that your campaign manager was caught rubbing elbows with a donor who owns a company that hunts puppies for sport, or something like that.
I mean, yeah, that’s an exaggeration, but do you see what I mean? Literally, it won’t blip anyone’s radar if it’s me and Camden there. The press won’t make hay over us, because we’re nothingburgers. But we are campaign reps who have direct candidate access, so the donors will be happy.
Yeah, it’s a freaking dance, all right? Not one I enjoy, that’s for damn sure.
The other reason I don’t want Elliot there is the fact that he has enough shit on his plate already. We’re flying out on Friday afternoon for a five-state campaign run through the Midwest, and not returning to DC until late Sunday night.
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” In fact, I’ll walk over, because it’s just north of the EEOB. Barely two blocks away from the White House.
I guess Camden and I are finally going to have that drink together after all.
Then I remember my big news. “Oh, keep this under wraps until next week, but the campaign’s just hired Casey-Marie Blaine.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. “She’s GOP.”
“She’s a liberal RINO, but yeah.”
“Okay, stupid question—why?” I explain why, and he sounds a little…relieved? “Oh, that makes sense.”
Then, it hits me. “No, we’re not replacing you. She’s good at what she does. We want her as his chief of staff to help consolidate the liberal GOP lawmakers we’ll need to ram through our legislative agenda during the first hundred days.”
Then again, if we’re lucky, we’ll end up with a two-thirds majority in the Senate after this election, and GOP participation will be moot at that point. Still, it’d be nice to have bipartisan support in case the midterms during Elliot’s first year bring us any ugly surprises.
Besides, there are a growing number of Independent lawmakers, more than ever before, who are disgusted at both parties. Having a bipartisan administration shows we’re here to do what’s right, not just what’s politically expedient.
“I get it,” he says. “That makes sense.”
He still doesn’t sound…happy?
I can’t deal with this bullshit right now. “Is there a problem, Ken?”
“No.” He finally laughs. “I was hoping you weren’t going to ask me to do it, because I’d say no.”
“Okay, fine.”
I hear him say something to someone else before he comes back. “Good. See you later.”
See? This is the kind of weird interpersonal bullshit that’s exactly why we wouldn’t have picked him to be Elliot’s chief of staff. Someone in that role needs to be able to communicate directly, to the point, and doesn’t rely on passive-aggressive tactics.
“Yeah. See you later.” I end the call and stare up at the sky. It’s a warm, muggy, overcast August afternoon.
Perfect beach weather.
In fact, I’m tempted to pencil in a few beach days on Elliot’s long-term calendar right now.
I know I’ll damn sure need it. It’s tempting to daydream about the three of us walking hand-in-hand along a white-sand beach on the Gulf of Mexico and enjoying the breeze.
Except we’ll be followed by a posse of paparazzi, and that totally spoils my fucking mood.
Casey-Marie arrives at the White House around two p.m., and I give her a quick tour of the West Wing, introduce her to Elliot and Kev, and leave her with Kev. Leo gets to meet her later that afternoon, when he returns from the event he attended with the president.
Leo can’t accompany us to campaign headquarters tonight, but Casey-Marie does. While Elliot’s talking with Ken, I get Casey an ID badge, phone, all of that.
Everyone seems to like her, even Ken, thank god.
By the time we return to the residence at 11:35 that evening, I’m working on a massive tension headache, I’m exhausted, but I can tell Elliot needs me to be Sir for him. Once we’re safely locked inside, I turn to give him the order to go upstairs just to find him watching me with his head cocked and his gaze narrowed.
“What’s wrong, boy?” I wearily ask. Jesus, I hope he’s not looking for a beating tonight. I just don’t have it in me.
He slowly shakes his head. “No, Jor.” He pulls me in for a hug. “Let’s just be us tonight, okay?”
I feel even shittier that I give in without so much as an argument over it. The breath whooshes out of me in relief and I wrap my arms tightly around him. “Thank you,” I mumble against his shoulder.
He buries his face in my hair and deeply inhales, much as I did to Leo earlier. “Hey,” he gently says. “I love you. I know this is insane right now, and I’m asking way more of you than I have any right to, but I promise I’ll make it up to both of you.”
Marry him.
That’s what I want to say—marry Leo, and take part of this burden off my shoulders.
No, I don’t say it. Because I’m my Sir’s good boy.
Instead, I tip my head back so he can kiss me. “Love you, too. Soak in the tub?”
“God, yes, please.”
Ten minutes later, that’s where we are. We’re both too tired for sex. Instead, we stretch out together in the tub and let the hot water ease our tension.
“Do you really think I’ll kick Boone’s ass in the debates?”
I snort. “The only way you can blow this election is if you do something horribly stupid.”
“Like marry Leo?” he quietly asks.
His eyes are closed, but now I can’t take my gaze off his face. “What?”
“Marry Leo. If I did something like marry Leo.”
It feels like time’s slowed to a crawl. I have to delicately pick my words. “We have no way of predicting how that would hit the polls. You’ve seen the data. It’s an unknown. Probably a 50/50 shot of it being perceived positively or negatively. The issue is we don’t know how you staying in the closet for so many years will be perceived.”
It’s not exactly something we can accurately or even circumspectly poll for without risk of it triggering a curious journalist to start digging.
“I wish I knew what to do.”
Marry him. “I swore to Leo I would obey him and follow his path about this. It has to be your decision.” Marry him. “Because you need to freely choose.” Marry him, dammit. “Neither of us are going anywhere. We’ll be by your side.” Fucking MARRY him already!
He opens his eyes and looks at me. “It’s not fai
r I can’t marry both of you. Because I would marry you, too, Jor.”
Reaching up, I cup his cheek and rest my forehead against his. I never thought it’d be possible to love this man as much as I do, and that’s as much as I love Leo. “No, it’s not fair. But we don’t need to be married to you to be with you.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a chickenshit.”
“Hey, no.” I kiss him. “We knew what we were getting into. I walked away once, and it was, no shit, worst thing I ever did.”
“I might not have de-assed my head if you hadn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter. I hurt Leo and, by extension, you. I’ll always regret that.”
He laces fingers with me. “I promise I’ll make it up to both of you. Breakfast in bed and blowjobs every morning.” He smiles.
“Well, who could turn down that offer?” Not me, that’s for sure.
This is a funky little family the three of us have. A found family we’re building from scratch, even though it has to remain in the shadows, for now. One that Leo and I will gladly and protectively wrap around Elliot when he finally comes out. By the time Elliot’s out of office, if he’s re-elected, he and Leo will have been in my life for sixteen years.
That’s longer than my parents were actively in my life.
But we can’t force Elliot to embrace us and this until he’s ready, and it has to be publicly. At least with Leo, it does.
If Elliot wasn’t worth it, I wouldn’t be here. I want to be in a found family with him and Leo. I think when Elliot finally sheds his fear and embraces it, he’ll find the acceptance and happiness he’s always longed for.
When we drag ourselves out of the tub and head to bed, Elliot decides to play big spoon by default tonight. I’m fine with that. He curls himself around me and quickly falls asleep with his chin resting against the top of my head.
He hasn’t had any nightmares in a few weeks, but I suspect this weekend’s travel will likely fix that. Several days away from our own bed nearly always triggers his nightmares.
Meanwhile, I’m missing Leo and wishing he were here. I miss the apartment, and our bed there.
I miss the quiet anonymity we had.
I miss lazy mornings in bed.
Innocent (Inequitable Trilogy Book 2) Page 52
