Or any woman, for that matter. Not that I ever was. Well, if they were single, hot, and willing, then okay, maybe I was a threat to be wary of. But since Randi, I haven’t looked at another woman with interest. Mostly because Randi is all I need, but also because Sarah threatened to, and I quote, “Slice off my balls and dick, place them on a skewer with light seasoning, grill them over an open flame, and then force-feed them to me” if I ever looked at another woman or hurt Randi.
I rather like my balls and dick attached, as does Randi most nights—and sometimes during a long lunch—so yeah, I don’t look at women.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” I readjust my jacket to make sure both nine millimeters are concealed. Keeping my features neutral but friendly, I move to step around the unfamiliar woman.
She grumbles something in return about being lost and late as she bends to retrieve the iPad from the ground. She dashes off in the direction she was originally heading before I have a chance to offer any help with the lost part. I know this place like the back of my hand from years of working as an agent and living here personally; I could’ve helped her get wherever she needed if she would’ve waited.
As I approach the office, my smile widens. Both hands tucked into my slacks, the picture of nonchalance and ease, I stroll toward the duo.
“Howdy, amigos,” I say in greeting, leaning against the opposite wall and crossing a foot over the other ankle.
“You know I hate that,” Smith states, his annoyed glare flicking to me before scanning the halls once again. “But I assume that’s why you keep saying it.”
“Bingo, amigo.” I chuckle at his attempt to flip me off discreetly. “You guys see a little blonde woman, about yea high”—I hold my hand to midbicep—“holding an iPad, looked flustered and a little pissy?”
Tank growls. “That’s Sam’s new secretary. Why?”
“She ran into me, literally, in the hall. Never seen her before, so I wanted to vet her out, make sure she had clearance to be here.”
“She does for now.” I arch a brow. “She’s not doing so great. I overheard a conversation between the two, and the poor girl just couldn’t keep up with everything he was throwing at her.”
“He’s a hard-ass, for sure,” I admit. “It’ll take someone with a backbone and brains to handle Sam. And someone who won’t throw themselves at him.” A chunk of dark hair slides across my forehead as I shake my head. “Last I heard, he’s debating hiring an all-male staff.”
“Did you hear the one last month, the Yale grad?” I nod even though I can’t picture who Tank’s talking about. “Sam walked into his own office, and she was sitting on his desk butt-ass naked. He lost his shit and fired her on the spot.”
“I’m sure that’s not the reaction she was hoping for.” I shake my head.
“I’ve got a ten on the new one not lasting a week.”
“I’ll toss in twenty for her lasting two weeks but getting fired for accidentally emailing a confidential document to Sam’s entire contact list.”
“You don’t even know how long she’s been in the role.” Smith cross his arms across his chest. “Besides, the pool is an alpha team bet.”
Faking shock, I stand and press a hand to my heart. “Tank, bestie, are you going to let him talk to me that way?”
“For fuck’s sake, you two,” he grumbles in return, running a hand over his fluffy dark and gray hair. He says Sarah wants him to grow it out. I think he’s feeling old and trying to look young again. Either way, it’s not a good look for him. “Where are your agents, by the way?”
A grin pulls up my lips as I shrug.
“Oh hell, what did you do to them?” Tank’s exasperation is palpable and hilarious. The latter more for me than him.
“Nothing. I’m doing what you asked me to do—training them.”
When I officially resigned from the alpha team to become the First Husband, it was… difficult at first, to say the least. The days were boring while Randi was working, changing the world one community at a time, and even most of the nights, considering she worked almost eighteen hours a day. Me doing nothing but sitting around and pestering the agents assigned to shadow me lasted only a few days before everyone was over my complaining and sour attitude—their words, not mine.
That’s when Randi, the director, and Tank came up with their brilliant plan. And I’ll admit it is a great plan. It gives me purpose again and the opportunity to have a little mischievous fun at another’s expense. Like today.
Since I can clearly handle myself and have demanded I stay armed at all times even without being an agent, they’ve assigned the greener agents to my detail.
The First Husband detail.
It’s not a title I’m a huge fan of, but I am a fucking fan of being her husband, so I’m going with it.
I’ve agreed to train the agents as we go, help them know what to look for while we’re traveling, how to spot weaknesses in a plan or protection detail. We work out together as well, sparring at times too to help with reflexes and hand-to-hand fighting skills.
To be honest, it’s been fun as well as rewarding. After losing Grem, I realized there was a lot I didn’t teach him. If I had maybe, he’d still be here today and holding his sweet little baby instead of six feet under.
I shake off those dark thoughts and turn to look down the hall as the sound of running feet rumbles closer.
“I wanted to see how long it would take them to realize I’d snuck past them.” I steal a look at my watch. “Seven minutes.” The four twentysomething-year-old kids skid to a stop, looking between me, Smith, Tank, and back to me, barely winded after the short sprint across the White House.
“How’d you get by us?” the lead of the four asks, ire gleaming in his gaze as his nostrils flare with annoyance. “We were at all the doors.”
“Were you?” I arch a brow to add a drop of doubt to their self-assured conclusion. I hitch my chin to the youngest one in the back. “Never get distracted. You took a call, leaving me the chance to slip past.”
“You were the caller,” he snaps. “You’re the one who distracted me.”
“Still, you were distracted.” There’s no hiding the amusement in my tone. Yeah, I tricked him, but one, he should’ve known better, and two, it was fun. “We’ll head to the gym after I see what Randi wants to talk to me about.”
Without knocking, I twist the brass doorknob and push the door leading to the Oval Office open. “See ya, amigos.”
Smith whispers something about killing me slowly, but I shut the door, cutting off whatever creative torture he was concocting.
The moment the door closes, I freeze. Something’s off. The air is too cold; normally the heat is blasting in the office, making it feel like summer instead of the tail end of winter. There’s something else too, like there’s a live wire ready to spark and burn the place to flames.
Muscles tense, ready for anything, I take in the room but only find Randi behind the desk, no one else. Each step is tentative as I approach her.
Face in her hands, elbows on the shiny oak surface, she looks unhappy. I pause beside her, only now able to hear her faint whispering, talking to herself about who knows what.
My chest tightens with worry as I gaze down at her. Something is wrong.
Reaching out, I stroke down her long silky dark hair over and over, giving her a moment before I force her to tell me what the fuck is going on.
“Who do I need to kill, Mess?” I say it like a joke, but we both know it’s not. I’d kill anyone who hurt her. Been there, done that twice already.
Her shoulders shake.
Fuck, is she crying?
Not giving two shits about personal space or giving her time to tell me what’s wrong, I grip both her shoulders and swivel the chair around until she’s facing me. Hand beneath her jaw, I tilt her face up to mine.
Eyes rimmed in red. Damp cheeks. Rosy nose and cheeks.
Fuck.
“I’ll kill them. I just need a name, baby. Tel
l me.” It takes work to soften my tone and not unleash the worry and frustration that’s swirling in me. The last thing I want to do is upset her more.
“Trey.” She half laughs, half cries. “Stop with the murder talk.” I swipe a tissue from the box on her desk and pass it to her. “You do know that if you ever do, you can’t tell me or I won’t be able to defend you.”
“I’d only be in court if they find a body.”
Her snort and small smile ease some of the growing tension between us.
“Seriously, Randi. Tell me what’s wrong. We can fix it. We always do.”
Watery eyes search my face. “We do, don’t we?”
“And we always will. But whatever this is, you can’t do it on your own. I’m here. Lean into me. Then I’ll lean into whoever made you cry and possibly crush them to death.” I flash her my trademark smirk, hoping that will ease some of her sadness.
Boom. Nailed it.
“It’s you.”
My smirk falls and my heart sinks into my stomach as nausea spikes.
“What?”
“It’s you—” Her face pales as she shoves both palms against my shoulders, sending her chair wheeling backward two feet. Twisting faster than I knew she was capable of moving, Randi falls to floor, her knees slamming to the carpet in front of a white plastic trash can.
I tilt my head at the new random and cheap addition to her office.
Shaking off the curiosity, I move the chair out of the way, the wheels squeaking in protest as I shoot it across the room, and gather her hair into a low ponytail as she vomits into the can.
Her moans of pain and annoyance eat at my soul. I feel helpless standing here, unable to do anything but hold her hair and pray to her unicorn gods that all this will be over soon so she can tell me what the fuck she meant by me being the problem.
Me.
I know I’m not perfect, but things have been great. Stressful, sure, but she is running America, and her best friend is Russian, so yeah, things can get tense at times.
Her left hand smacks at my leg to get my attention. “Tissue, please.”
I pass her the box, not really knowing exactly how many she’ll need to clean up… that.
When she leans back onto her heels, she smiles up at me. Even after puking and crying, she’s still beautiful. How the hell I got so lucky, I’ll never know.
“Randi, I don’t know what I did, but—”
“Oh, you know.” She laughs.
I take her extended hand and help her off the floor. Placing a steady hand on the desk, she leans a hip against it and bites her lip.
“I really don’t.”
“Last night.” She raises her brows like that should give me some kind of clue.
Last night. Last night. Fuck, what did we do last night?
Oh, right, we fucked.
Oh shit.
I compile everything and only come to one conclusion, but then my head goes blank. I blink down at Randi, not sure if I want to ask the question or just keep staring, hoping I’m reading the signs right.
Because fuck, I want to be right. We’ve never talked about a family because we’re both older and she already has Taeler, and I didn’t want to press the issue. But now….
Please, unicorn gods, let my beautiful wife be pregnant.
“Trey?” she asks, furrowing her brow. “You okay?”
“Randi, tell me what’s going on.”
Nibbling on a nail, she glances all around the room, her chest ballooning out with a deep inhale. Like she’s finally made the decision to tell me the big news, she locks her hazel eyes on mine and smiles.
“I’m pregnant.”
And just like that, when I thought my life couldn’t get any better, it absolutely fucking does.
THE END… FOR NOW.
Afterword
Wow. It’s over.
Can you believe that? Five books. 425K words. Over a year and a half of writing. And it’s done.
I’m a little sad not going to lie. I loved writing these two and by the end of the book it was so easy to write their love and banter.
What I meant by THE END… FOR NOW was Smith and Sam will both get their own books sometime 2021! We will get a glimpse into Trey and Randi’s lives at that point and see how they are doing. I’ve also tossed around the idea of a novella on their lives after the White House.
We will see.
Thank you so much for sticking with me through FIVE books. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate every message, page read, purchase and recommendation you pass on to your friends.
If you loved this series please do tell your friends. That’s the best marketing ever!
Any-who. Thank you again. It’s been a wild ride and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone other than you guys.
Happy reading :)
Acknowledgments
This book wouldn’t have happened without my three alpha readers. Chris, Em, and Kristin. You three encourage me daily and I will never, ever be able to thank you for all your calls, texts and hours spent reading my first drafts.
And of course the support of my hubs. He really does try to understand this industry LOL. Love him for it too. Mostly he supports me by being so proud of my writing career. Good or bad his focus is always on the fact I wrote a book. And you know, I did and that’s pretty awesome.
Okay so all the people who helped make this series the best it could be. Of course my editor Kristin with Hot Tree Editing (who’s probably cringing at all the grammatical mistakes and misspellings in this acknowledgements - sorry) who takes my words and makes them readable. I love her comments and suggestions.
Of course my PA Annette with Book Nerd Services. I wouldn’t get anything done without her! She too has to put up with all the late night panicked texts and calls. Sorry friend :)
And my amazing ARC team. Thank you. For fucking real you ladies are amazing. I never would’ve thought I’d get to the point to be surrounded by so many book influencers like you guys. I see every comment, like and share and sit in awe at the fact you’re doing all that to help support me and my writing career. Thank you.
And of course the readers. Thank you for sticking with the series! Hopefully you love my writing style and will go check out my other books! Hope Trey and Randi were able to provide you with the brief escape from this terrible year we all desperately need.
Thank you.
Happy reading
KLM
Also by Kennedy L. Mitchell
Standalone:
Falling for the Chance
A Covert Affair
Finding Fate
Memories of Us
Interconnected Standalone:
Mine to Protect
Mine to Save (Coming December 2020)
Series:
More Than a Threat Series:
More Than a Threat
More Than a Risk
More Than a Hope (Coming 2021)
Power Play Series:
Power Play
Power Twist
Power Switch
Power Surge
Power Term
Power Term: A Secret Service Romantic Suspense Series (Power Play Book 5) Page 26
