The Marriage Agenda

by Sarah Ballance

  “No circumstances.” He rolled over onto his back, leaving her sitting on top of him, her body fully exposed. He reached up and traced his fingertips over her breasts. “Just this.”

  “I think you found my point of surrender,” she said. The broad light of day left her a little self-conscious, but she moved over him anyway.

  “I told myself I’d never let you do this again,” he said.

  “That bad?”

  “No. That good. I had a thing about giving up control.”

  “And now?”

  “Shut up and ride me, woman.”

  She laughed. “So much for a lack of control.”

  “Trust me, it’s coming.”

  She didn’t have to ask what that meant.

  She’d nearly forgotten about the doorbell until the sound of it was replaced by pounding. At his insistence, they’d turned off their phones that morning, the moment they’d closed the car doors. She’d wondered if it had been a good idea, but he assured her the chaos would be waiting if and when they decided to crawl out of bed. Apparently, not all of it was willing to wait. “Maybe you should make sure it’s not important.”

  “It might be. Doesn’t matter.” He put his hands on her hips and reminded her of what she was supposed to be doing.

  “Well, in that case—”

  Tap…tap…tap.

  The window. Chloe peered across the room, locking eyes with Toby through the glass. “Knox!” she shrieked, covering her breasts with one hand and reaching for the sheet with the other. She missed…they’d kicked it onto the floor. At least her ass hadn’t been in the air. Because this is so much better.

  Knox grabbed the comforter and yanked it over them both, but Toby had already disappeared from the window. “I’m going to kill him.”

  “He’s probably thinking the same thing about you,” she said, untangling from Knox and reaching for her clothes. She crawled out of bed on rubber legs and slipped into her dress. She had to dig through the bedding for her underwear.

  Knox pulled on his pants and grabbed a T-shirt off a nearby chair. “Yeah, well, when I see his wife naked, he can decide to kill me. Until then—”

  “When you see his wife naked?”

  “He’s not married.” He took her hand and pulled her into a kiss.

  Chloe could have drowned in the man, but she didn’t want witnesses. “Why don’t you go see what he wants so we can finish this without interruption?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  She tried to pull free her hand, but he tightened his hold. “Come with me.”

  “Are you kidding? I think he just saw me naked.”

  “And for that, he will pay. But please come. I want you with me. Always.”

  She rolled her eyes but followed him to the entry without further protest.

  Toby stood on the porch, having nearly worked himself into a lather. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Knox took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

  Toby charged into the entry hall. “You don’t do something like that,” he muttered, “and not answer your phone.” Catching sight of Chloe’s office, he said, “That’s a damn lot of plants.”

  “Actually,” Knox said with a grin, “I’m pretty sure when you do something like that, that is precisely the point at which you ignore your phone.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Toby set his briefcase on Knox’s desk and flipped it open. “At least she warned me about what she was about to do. You just…I think I’m going to need a raise.”

  “I’m thinking more along the lines of a severance package. The campaign is over, Tobster. Rex pretty well saw to that.”

  “Actually, we’re not blaming here. We’re giving credit.”

  Knox and Chloe exchanged glances. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Toby withdrew a sheet of paper from his briefcase. “People are going wild for you. I’m pretty sure you’ve won over every woman in the state. Hell, I bet Jackson’s own wife is wet for you after that performance.”

  “Charlie Jackson’s wife?” Chloe asked.

  Knox shot her a sideways glance. “I don’t think he means that literally.” To Toby, he said, “That was not a performance.”

  “Call it what you want. You’re polling over eighty percent.”

  Knox’s jaw dropped. “Favorable?”

  “Of course favorable. Would I have stood in your flower bed and risked voyeurism charges over bad news?”

  Chloe glared. “How long did you stand there?”

  “Voyeurs peep for sexual gratification,” Knox said. “It would be significantly less awkward if you would just say you peeped.”

  “I can assure you that was not the highlight of my day. And you two are completely missing the point.”

  “To the contrary, I had a most excellent point going until I saw your face in my bedroom window.”

  Toby shook his head. “Is this who I’m going to be dealing with from now on?”

  “Wait a minute.” Knox held up a hand. “Who said anything about moving forward?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Toby asked. “The election is yours to lose. Eighty percent is unheard of.”

  “I don’t think—”

  She put her hand on his arm. “Don’t be an ass, Knox. Didn’t you say you wanted to restore honor to your family name?”

  “I think the damage is pretty well irreparable at this point.”

  “If that’s true, why are you leading the polls?” She looked to Toby. “It’s not irreparable, is it?”

  Toby almost smiled. “There’s plenty of time to reduce Rex to a footnote.”

  Chloe’s breath caught. If she had one regret, it was that her story had ruined Knox’s odds of winning the election. Could he really still have a chance?

  Knox turned to Chloe. “What do you think? Are you still up for the job of a senator’s wife?”

  Toby snorted. “Are you kidding me? She’s a piranha. Not only can she handle it, she’ll clear the pool.”

  She snorted. “Is that a compliment?”

  “It’s as close to one as you’re going to get from him,” Knox said.

  “I think it’s a yes,” she said. “However, you might need to try a little harder to get your point across.” She cocked her head toward Toby. “You know…without him in the window.”

  “Do I need to hear this?”

  “No, and you shouldn’t watch, either,” said Knox. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to go drill my point into my wife.”

  “You’re going to make me nauseous. What about the race?”

  “It’s a yes.” Chloe said.

  Toby snapped shut his briefcase. “I’m going to need a bonus for this,” he muttered, heading for the door.

  “I think I’m about to hit a hundred percent approval rating,” Knox called after him.

  “You don’t get that until after you’re elected. And never at a hundred percent.” Toby offered a wave—one lacking in eye contact—and let himself out of the house.

  “We’ll see about that,” Knox called to the closed door. Then to Chloe, “What do you think?”

  “I think you better keep your approval rating between us.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “You want to know what I think about approval ratings?”

  She poked a finger to his chest. “A great deal, hence your marriage.”

  He laughed. “That was then. Now there’s only one person’s approval that matters, and that is my wife’s.”

  She thought him joking at first, but all traces of humor had slipped from his face. She traced a fingertip over his lips. Drank in the sincerity in his eyes. Felt the hard planes of his body and the strength of arms he promised would never again let go.

  “Only me, huh?”

  “Always.”

  “Then I approve. Always.”

  “In that case, Mrs. Hamilton, I think it’s safe to say I’ve already won.”

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  Acknowledgments

  Hold on tight…once again I fell into a story by careening bass-ackward into a vat of crazy. (At some point I should give up and just call it the new normal. But I digress.) There are no words for my gratitude on this one. First I must credit my original editor, KL Grady, who took a look at my then-novella and told me to expand it for Indulgence. While I was breathing into a paper bag (because, OMG!), she gave me some killer suggestions for the story, then proceeded to get rid of me…but it was okay, because she gave me to ERMAGERD TRACY MONTOYA (not her actual name) who had somehow climbed off my bookshelf and into my inbox. Either KL didn’t thoroughly warn Tracy about me or Tracy just doesn’t scare easily, because she immediately dove in and proceeded to spill the awesome all over my manuscript. ALL THE PRETTY COLORS. (Think red ink.) The story was subsequently picked up, then I needed to be (because I was on the floor writhing in ecstasy), and the rest is…well, what you’ve just read. Also, I might still be on the floor. Send chocolate.

  About the Author

  Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the Mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. (As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids). When not buried under piles of laundry, she may be found adrift in the Atlantic (preferably on a boat) or seeking that ever-elusive perfect writing spot where not even the kids can find her. Though she adores nail-biting mystery and edge-of-your-seat thrillers, Sarah writes in many genres including historical, contemporary, and supernatural romance and romantic suspense.

  Find her @ www.sarahballance.com | http://sarahballance.wordpress.com | www.facebook.com/sarah.ballance.author.news | www.twitter.com/sarahballance | www.pinterest.com/sarahballance34 | www.goodreads.com/author/show/4103362.sarah_ballance

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