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Texas Temptation

Page 111

by Kathryn Brocato


  “What should I do?” Lily’s mind was racing as quickly as her heart.

  “Um, you go to him and beg him to take you back. You’ve got a man who just made a very sincere, probably incredibly expensive, public apology. You hang on and you don’t let go, that’s what you do.” She grabbed her by the forearms and shook dramatically. “This is like a fairy tale, Lily. I can’t believe it!”

  Carly fanned herself dramatically and fell back against the couch, the dreamy smile still on her face. She was right. Lily wanted Ford to man up and be the protector she’d dreamed of. She wanted him to put their relationship first and to show her that she was more important to him than anything else. Even after throwing up every obstacle she could between them, he’d found a way to get to her. He’d done everything she wanted, and he’d done it in grand fashion. It didn’t matter who was wrong, who’d messed up, or what had happened. They were meant to be together, and he was definitely the one.

  Chapter Twelve

  Waiting the couple of days between Ford’s televised apology and Election Day was sheer torture. She couldn’t wait to hear his voice again, but a phone call wasn’t enough. She wanted to reunite in person, to see Ford’s face when she told him that she loved him, that she forgave him for everything, and that she wanted to be with him. It was the best way to be sure that she’d made the right decision, that he truly felt the same way. Lily could hardly sleep from the excitement and nerves, but with Carly, work, and Soldier On for distraction, she’d managed. After a morning jog, she found her poll location and ducked inside, hurrying to avoid any prying eyes. With any luck, hers wouldn’t be one of the busier polling places where news crews ran their Election Day stories and she would get in, vote, and get out without notice.

  The quiet lobby of the large city library where she’d be voting looked clear enough. She shuffled into the multipurpose room they’d designated for voters and gave her card to one of the line of elderly voting officials lining the table up front. She confirmed her address and winked at the older man with his eyebrows raised in recognition and silent question. With a fingertip to her lips, she hurried over to the first available voting machine. The computerized touch screen was separated by others in the row by plastic dividers for privacy, so much less exciting than the individual booths she’d seen in movies. When she was a kid, she’d envisioned closing herself in a curtained booth, marking her choices, maybe pulling a lever. Seeing Ford’s name pop up on her Congressional choices was a rush, though, and she chose him, glad to send a vote his way.

  After voting, she rushed across town to pick up her special print order and got ready for Election Night.

  • • •

  Ford paced the length of the small room behind the stage, wondering how many other people in the same position had done so. They’d rented a ballroom in a local hotel for the Election Night results party, and revelers had filled the space as soon as the doors opened. The utilitarian, bland room was lined with folding chairs and tables, likely overflow from the event room. Fluorescent overhead lights buzzed, an errant candy wrapper crinkled under his step, and he walked on, back and forth. What an unremarkable room to wait for such remarkable news in. Since his apology video aired and nothing happened between him and Lily, he’d lost interest in whether he won or lost the election. Without Lily, with the final knowledge that he’d really lost her forever, nothing much mattered. He’d been so certain that a big apology, one where he admitted complete fault and begged for forgiveness, would be enough, that she’d come running back to him. When she didn’t, when his calls remained unanswered, an emptiness replaced the hope he’d come to rely on. Without that hope, there was nothing to look forward to. There weren’t any tricks up his sleeve. He was out of ideas. And now it was time to move on. Alone.

  The door opened and closed with a quiet click. “Hey.” Robert joined him, bearing a folder and a bottle of water. “The numbers are coming in, with almost all precincts reporting. We’re waiting on a couple more before we know for sure. It’s looking really good.”

  “Oh? That’s awesome.” He wanted to be excited, and he knew he owed it to his team to at least try to summon some enthusiasm for the campaign they’d worked so hard for. The best he could do was a weak smile and a nod of appreciation for the water. He took a seat by a small table and opened the folder Robert brought him.

  “So, is it safe to assume that you haven’t heard from Lily?” Robert pulled up a chair and took a seat by Ford. The votes were cast, and all that was left to do was wait. Robert could afford to be a friend and not a campaign advisor now.

  The team had been much less angry than he’d feared after he filmed the spot and bought the airtime. They’d met the news with a resignation that told him they didn’t expect much of anything from him after the way he’d mucked up the fiancée portion of their strategy. He supposed everything else had fallen apart so irreparably, they couldn’t fault him for a last-ditch effort at scavenging what he could of his personal life. They’d grudgingly admitted that he probably hadn’t made things any worse and that some voters might be moved by his sincerity. There was only one voter that he cared about, and she apparently wasn’t moved.

  “Nope, not a word. I guess that’s it for us.” He sipped from the water bottle. “I gave it my best shot, but it’s not going to work out. Sometimes things are too far gone to fix.”

  He rubbed his hands together and bounced his knees, summoning the energy and enthusiasm he’d need to face the crowd waiting on the other side of the wall. Win or lose tonight, he had an obligation to the team, to the voters, and to the party guests to put his best face forward. His personal problems would still be around in the morning, and he could wallow in his misery then. Tonight he had to be professional and play the politician. People had given countless hours, incredible amounts of money, and their votes to get him where he was, and he had to repay them with enthusiasm. All he needed was a few more minutes alone to psych himself up, to get his signature charm ramped up enough to be a good host to his guests.

  “Anything I need to know about the speeches?” He indicated the folder Robert had given him.

  “Nope, they’re both here, and they should be exactly as you expect. Everything should be perfect, but it wouldn’t hurt to take one last look.”

  “Okay then.” He halfheartedly flipped through the pages. He’d been over both speeches so carefully already, and they looked fine. He didn’t have the energy to waste on more proofing. Checking the time, he stood. “Should be about time, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, let me go see if we have an answer yet.” Robert left him alone with the speeches and his thoughts.

  In moments, Ford would know if he’d be making or receiving a concession call to Sam Coldwell. Whatever the result, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to that guy. Coldwell had been at the source of all his problems lately, and he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget. Politics or not, he’d done his level best to destroy his and Lily’s personal lives. As much as Ford had been able to accept his fault in the matter, much of it would never have come about without Coldwell’s actions. He’d keep it quick and cordial, possibly letting his tone tell Mr. Coldwell just what he thought of his campaign tactics, whichever way the vote fell.

  Robert burst back through the door with a huge grin on his face, fists in the air victoriously. “Looks like you’ll be getting a phone call soon!”

  The rest of the team followed, all smiles, the tension of the last week gone in the face of their triumph. For tonight, at least, the difficulties would be forgotten in the thrill of victory. So the results were in, and Ford was going back to D.C. Sam Coldwell had thrown everything he had at their campaign, but they still won, and it felt pretty good. Another term on his political resume for him, another big win for the campaign advisors. Maybe they could pull together when it was time to aim for the governor’s mansion. It would’ve been better if Lily were there to share the moment, but this was as good as it was going to get. He accepted their hugs, ha
ndshakes, and congratulations, thanked them each personally for their stellar work, and paced the room, waiting for the phone to ring.

  When it did, a hush fell over the group and Ford counted to three before answering, steadying his breath and mentally preparing himself to speak to the enemy. “Hello.”

  “Mr. Richardson? It’s Sam Coldwell. I’m calling to congratulate you on your victory. You fought a good fight, you ran a clean campaign, and you deserve the win. I’m proud to have you represent my interests in Washington. Congratulations, sir.” The voice on the other end of the line was clear and strong, and Ford knew he must be steeling himself against an attack, waiting for Ford to go off on him. As professionals, of course they were expected to gloss over all the personal animosity between them. They’d had trouble keeping things professional during the campaign, though, and anything could happen.

  He’d lost the only thing he truly cared about, and whatever he might have thought about Sam Coldwell, it didn’t matter now. The fight had gone out of him when Lily hadn’t come back. Coldwell had started it, but Ford could’ve saved his relationship if only he’d been man enough. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence.” He ended the call and faced his team. The relief on their faces that he hadn’t caused another scandal by calling Coldwell out was unmistakable.

  Going off on the man wouldn’t make him feel better, and it would make him look horrible. There was nothing left to do besides address the crowd and party the night away like he was elated with the victory. His years in politics had given him enough practice, so he’d be able to mingle all night, laugh at jokes, and share amusing anecdotes. He could collapse and be miserable later, when he was home. Alone.

  “All right, then. We have a full house out there, and everybody is ready to hear the results. Let’s give the people what they want.” He painted the smile on his face and followed his team into the ballroom.

  Before they reached the end of the short hall leading to the door, he could hear the crowd. Loud music was playing, people were laughing and chatting, and dishes clinked. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and beamed at the crowd as the spotlight followed him bounding up the stairs of the stage. He reached the podium and waved, smiling for a moment while the music played, and waited for a break in the noise. The room was full of people wearing the traditional cheesy political accessories everyone associated with Election Night parties: buttons; red, white, and blue top hats; zany sunglasses and vests; the whole nine yards. Signs with his name and slogans were held by revelers, and a disco ball threw splashes of light bathed in red and white around the room. He’d been here before, but it was still a thrill to know that in a few moments the room would erupt with excitement when he made his announcement. Bathing in the anticipation of sharing the news, knowing it would be met with such happiness, cheered him. He’d focus on making his next term worth the voters’ confidence, stop dwelling on things he couldn’t control.

  Finally the music died down and the spotlight was firmly on the podium. A couple hundred pairs of eyes were trained on the stage, and everyone held their collective breath. He leaned down to reach the microphone and grinned, savoring the moment.

  “I just received a phone call from Sam Coldwell congratulating me on winning this election. We did it!” The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping. Balloons and fat strips of silver confetti dropped from the ceiling, flooding the room and ramping up the excitement tenfold. Ford took a moment to soak it all in. It was so easy to forget that he wasn’t the only one invested in the campaign, and to share the excitement with a roomful of ecstatic people was a rush. He’d worried about having to force his enthusiasm, but he was swept up in the pure energy of the crowd. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a few more years. This campaign was hard fought and hard won, and I couldn’t have done any of it without my amazing team of advisors…” He held out his arm to indicate the team of seven and clapped for them, blowing a two-handed kiss in their direction. “And the interns, the volunteers, the voters, and the donors. You have no idea how much your support, your hard work, your faith in me, and of course, your campaign donations, mean to me.” The crowd laughed and he continued. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am honored to be your representative, and I will do my best to earn your trust in my next term. Enough talk, let’s party!”

  The music started again, drowning out the crowd’s loud shouts, and he strode across the stage, smiling and waving at the crowd. The signs bobbing amongst the guests blurred into one another, except for one. He stopped dead in his tracks, physically unable to move for a moment as his mind made sense of the words he was reading. In the middle of a sea of faces, a single sign stood out. In bold white letters against a black background, the message was clear: I LOVE YOU, FORD.

  Lily.

  Here.

  Love?

  Their eyes met, and everything faded into the background. Gone were the flashing lights, the loud music, the pulsing crowd. Only the two of them, and they couldn’t get to each other fast enough. He cut through the crowd, ignoring the extended hands, congratulations, and pats on the back as he made a beeline to Lily. She waited, radiant and brilliant, for him in the crowd until he finally reached her and swept her into his arms. Holding her tight, twirling once on the dance floor, and vaguely registering that the sign she’d held hit his leg as she let it fall to the floor, he held her. Her scent surrounded him as he breathed her in, setting her down gently but unwilling to let her go. With a gentle hand at her jaw, he tipped her face up until their lips met and kissed her. The kiss asked and answered every question, settled every debt, told them everything they needed to know. The kiss sealed their future and forgave their past. The kiss made every moment of heartbreak fall away, forgotten in the moment.

  Lily pressed her cheek to Ford’s and murmured into his ear. “I saw your video. I think it would’ve been cheaper to hire a skywriter.” She laughed, the warmth of her breath on his earlobe sending a shiver down his back.

  “You wouldn’t take my calls. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” He shrugged, letting the tension, misery, and uncertainty fall away with the light joke. With her in his arms, every dark moment was forgotten.

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Desperate? In that case, I think I’m flattered.”

  Ford wrapped his arms around her waist in a loose circle, falling into their familiar rhythm. “You should be. I almost never make expensive apology videos for women.”

  With a playful swat on his arm, she laughed. “Almost never?”

  “Well, I never want to have to do it again.” He’d never let her go again.

  “You won’t have to.” Her brown eyes caught the dancing light of the ballroom, holding his future and all its possibilities.

  “I would do anything for you. Anything.”

  “I know you would. I didn’t realize it before, but I do now.”

  His mind went to the Tiffany box holding her engagement ring sitting on a shelf in his closet. “Will you come home with me tonight?”

  A delightfully wicked grin spread across her lips, and she swiveled closer to him, lowering her eyes. “Hmm. You move quickly. What did you have in mind?”

  “I want to propose to you.”

  The playfulness disappeared as she grew still in his arms. Had he jumped the gun? “Even after everything that’s happened?”

  The breath rushed out, relief filling his chest. “Yes, of course after everything. Because of everything. You’re the love of my life, Lily, and I don’t want to wake up another morning without knowing you’ll be my wife.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “Go home with me tonight, or be my wife?” He knew the answer, but there could be no doubt between them. Never again would he hold back, withholding affection or devotion to avoid getting hurt. He would make sure Lily knew the love of a man who believed in her, cherished her, and would do anything for her.

  “Both.”

  “This is seriously the best night of my entire life. I love y
ou, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives making you glad you said yes.”

  In the Shadow of Pride

  Nancy C. Weeks

  Avon, Massachusetts

  Copyright © 2014 by Nancy Crisp Weeks.

  All rights reserved.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

  Published by

  Crimson Romance

  an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

  10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

  Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

  www.crimsonromance.com

  ISBN 10: 1-4405-8031-6

  ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8031-4

  eISBN 10: 1-4405-8032-4

  eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-8032-1

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art © 123RF/Jo Ann Snover and iStock.com/Wavebreak

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

 

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