Running Mate

by Katie Ashley

  I rolled my eyes before I started to the door. “Keep dreaming, sweetheart.” When I got out in the hallway, Ty leaned up against the wall, wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. I knew then he’d heard every word of our conversation. “Don’t you start with me.”

  He held up his hands. “I didn’t say a word.”

  “You didn’t have to—it’s written all over your face.”

  A shriek of pain followed by a grunt of frustration came from inside Addison’s dressing room. Turning back to the door, I called, “Are you all right?”

  “The pin on my binding is stuck. I can’t seem to get it undone.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  Without another word to Ty, I reentered the dressing room. The sight of Addison with one arm wrapped around her back like a contortionist made me laugh. “You could have asked me to do this before I left. You don’t always have to be so stubborn and independent.”

  “At the moment, this stupid pin is the one being stubborn. It’s no wonder considering how fast they had to get me into this costume.”

  “Would you just stop and let me get it?”

  “Fine,” Addison replied as she dropped her arm and stood straight.

  When my fingers brushed against her skin below the binding, she shivered. I tried to focus my attention on the pin instead of her reaction, and after working with it for a few seconds, it finally popped open. “There,” I said as I pulled it out of the fabric.

  Addison took the pin from me and promptly tossed it into the trash. She smiled at me. “Thanks. I was beginning to think you might have to cut me out of it.”

  Eyeing the scrunched material, I asked, “How do you get out of that stuff?”

  She laughed. “It’s kinda like an ace bandage. You just unwrap it.”

  Without thinking, I stood watching as she began unraveling the binding. Just before she got to the very end, she glanced up at me, and our eyes locked for a moment. God, she is so beautiful, even with all that makeup.

  Shit.

  More than anything in the world, I wanted to rip away the binding and jerk her into my arms. I wanted to crush her lips against mine, tasting her mouth and tongue, but this time it wouldn’t be because we were practicing or selling our relationship to the cameras.

  No, it would be because I was dying to taste her. I wanted her. I wanted to fuck her, own her, keep her.

  Fuck.

  I could not go there with Addison. I was already confused as hell about what I felt for her. If I threw in the physical, it would mess everything up.

  I took two steps away from her. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’ll be outside.”

  “Okay.”

  I was so incredibly screwed.

  ADDISON

  Two weeks after Barrett unmasked me—or maybe I should say unwigged me—singing at Divas, I found myself preparing for quite a different performance on a far bigger scale. As I stood backstage, the thundering roar of the crowd was so deafening it seemed to cause the floor beneath my Jimmy Choos to shudder. Peeking from behind the curtain, I anxiously eyed the multitude of people packed shoulder to shoulder in the George R. Brown convention center in downtown Houston.

  In just a few short minutes, I was going to be in front of a crowd of thousands, not to mention the millions watching on television and their computers, to introduce Jane as the potential future First Lady. As I clung to one of the velvet curtains to steady me, I wished I had never agreed to do this. When the idea had first been broached, I had immediately voiced my opposition and suggested Caroline do it instead. She would be in attendance at the convention, and after all, she was a blood relative. I was just the woman masquerading as Jane’s son’s fiancée.

  Even so, both Jane and James assured me I would be the best for the job. While their confidence was encouraging, it did nothing to soothe my nerves or calm my fears. After all, the convention was a big deal. I would be in front of all the delegates giving their support, not to mention a huge television audience. Sure, I hadn’t had a slipup since Assgate—unless you counted when I got high off the moonshine cough syrup—but my luck could always run out.

  A tap on my shoulder caused me to shriek as I jumped out of my skin. Whirling around, I stared into Barrett’s concern-filled face. Fifteen minutes ago, I’d left him in the family box, the seats where the candidate’s family sat in the front row of the balcony, to come backstage to await my turn to speak. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “I came to check on you.”

  Instantly, my heart did a funny little flip-flop at his chivalrous gesture. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “So how are you holding up?”

  “Just peachy,” I replied, my voice rising an octave. When Barrett cocked his brows at me, I sighed. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”

  He smiled encouragingly at me. “It’s just nerves. You’re going to do great.”

  “I just have this fear that I’m going to walk out there and forget everything I’m supposed to say.”

  “That’s why the teleprompters are there,” Barrett reassured.

  “What if I fall again?”

  “That won’t happen.” His brows creased slightly. “You are wearing underwear this time, right?”

  I widened my eyes. “Oh my God, you really think I could fall?”

  Barrett laughed. “No, I don’t. I was just teasing you.”

  “Well I’m not in the mood.”

  He placed both his hands firmly on my shoulders. “I want you to listen me,” he commanded.

  “Okay.”

  “You are going to go out there and knock them dead, not only because you’re a gifted speaker, but because you wrote a kickass speech that comes straight from that enormous heart of yours.”

  I blinked at him a few times. “You really think that?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I do. The entire campaign feels that way. Dad would have never suggested you do it if he didn’t believe in you and your abilities.”

  “Thank you, Barrett. That means a lot.”

  “Come here.”

  Barrett drew me into his strong embrace. We’d come a long way since the day we’d had to practice holding hands. With everything that had transpired over the last few months, we’d built a strong friendship. We also shared an intimacy I hadn’t found with any other man. A pang of sadness entered my chest as I thought about how much I was going to miss it after November, not to mention the fear of never finding it with another man.

  At the sound of my name echoing over the loud speakers, Barrett pressed his lips to my cheek. “More than anything, I believe in you.”

  His comment, coupled with his close proximity, made my already weak knees even less stable.

  “Th-That means a l-lot,” I stammered. Good lord. What was happening to me? One hug and a nice word from Barrett had me acting like a lovesick school girl whose crush had actually waved at her. I hated when he was able to do that to me, and it seemed to be happening more and more lately. I couldn’t let my heart become any more invested in him. It was too dangerous. He had to stay in the friend zone.

  “Now get out there and knock ’em dead.” He then proceeded to smack me on the ass, hard. My outrage at his gesture overruled my nerves, and I practically stalked out from behind the curtain. Then, when I started out onto the stage, I momentarily had a deer-in-the-headlights moment with the spotlight. Thankfully, I only faltered for a moment before striding confidently on. Once my fingers gripped the sides of the podium, I couldn’t help doing a small fist bump in my mind that I hadn’t fallen. My gaze stretched past the crowds to the teleprompter in the back, and at the sight of my speech scrawling across the screen, I took a deep breath before looking away. I knew I didn’t need it.

  “Good afternoon. It is my honor to stand before you today to introduce a woman whom I greatly admire. A woman who has fought tirelessly for the underprivileged and the disenfranchised even before her husband became a senator. A woman
who worked to slash illiteracy rates by implementing a reading initiative for low-income areas not just in her home state of Virginia, but throughout the southeast. Through all of this, she has also been a wife and a mother of three. She has been the anchor for her husband through the rough political waters of a thirty-year senatorial career. She has been the rock for her children to lean on and the soft place to fall. Please help me in welcoming my future mother-in-law and the future First Lady of the United States, Jane Callahan.”

  My ears rang at the deafening noise that erupted around me and I turned to watch as Jane made her way down the stage. She appeared poised and dignified in her white suit, and when she reached the podium, she hugged me. “You did fantastic,” she shouted into my ear.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  After pulling out of Jane’s embrace, I waved once more to the crowd before I hurried off the stage. This was Jane’s triumphant moment, and I didn’t want to take one second away from it. When I rushed behind the curtain, Barrett was waiting for me.

  Overwhelmed with emotion, I dove into his waiting arms. It felt so good to be able to share this moment with him. Our connection as a couple felt so true and genuine.

  “You were fantastic!” Barrett exclaimed.

  I pulled away to stare into his face. “Really?”

  He grinned. “Quit fishing for compliments. You know you rocked the house.”

  I laughed. “I sorta did, didn’t I?”

  “You sure as hell did.”

  Gazing into his eyes, I realized I’d gained more than a friend during the last few months. I’d learned that leaning on someone wasn’t such a bad thing, that leaning on Barrett wasn’t such a bad thing. I liked being a recipient of his caring side. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Oh please, you could’ve given that speech blindfolded.”

  “No, I mean it. You coming back here and saying you believe in me gave me the confidence I needed.” Acting on impulse, I reached up and pecked him on the lips.

  Barrett stared wide-eyed at me. “What did you do that for?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. As a way to say thank you.” That was the honest-to-God truth; I hadn’t had any ulterior motives. I certainly hadn’t thought about how Barrett might take it for something else, but his expression told me he did.

  “I’m sorry if you don’t want me kissing you.”

  With a scowl, he replied, “That’s not it.” Right, why else would you suddenly be acting all weird?

  “Considering how pissed you look, that must be it.”

  “You just took me off guard, that’s all.” He took my hand. “Come on, we better get back to the family box.”

  Any elation I’d felt over my speech was suddenly dampened by Barrett’s obvious loathing of my lip-lock. I hadn’t even considered that the idea of kissing me could be repulsive to him. Tuck away your heart, Ads. You know the sort of woman Barrett truly likes, and even after all this time, it isn’t going to be you.

  BARRETT

  As Everett fussed around me trying to get the tie on my tux just right, I felt like I was being choked, but it wasn’t the tie that was leaving me suffocating—it was my growing feelings for Addison. When she kissed me out of the blue, it had knocked me emotionally on my ass. Sure, we’d kissed a ton of times before, but they had all been orchestrated for the media’s benefit. This one was different. It had been off the cuff and driven by her emotion. Sure, it hadn’t been a passionate I wanna rip your clothes off kinda kiss.

  It was an even more dangerous one.

  The night after Dad had stood on stage and officially accepted the party’s nomination, we were ditching the business attire for evening wear to attend the Cattleman’s Ball. It was the first time Addison and I had attended anything black tie for the campaign, and tonight we would be hobnobbing with campaign donors. That fact coupled with a large media presence meant Addison and I would be on constant display as the happy couple. I hadn’t dreaded having to pretend in a long a time, and I thought maybe I was doing so now because the lines between pretending and what I truly felt were blurring.

  “There, got it!” Everett exclaimed, drawing me out of my thoughts.

  “Thanks man.”

  Everett handed me my cufflinks, the heirloom ones that traveled in the safe with the other family jewels. As I started putting them on, Everett said, “Oh hell, I forgot to get Addison’s necklace to her.”

  “I’ll take it to her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m heading that way now to pick her up to head downstairs to the car.”

  Everett nodded before handing me a small velvet box. Addison had been corralled into my parents’ suite about an hour ago so Saundra could work on her and Mom simultaneously. After bypassing the Secret Service outside the door, I entered the main room. “Addison, we need to go.”

  “Coming!” she called.

  I walked in a smile. At the sight of Addison bedecked in a red strapless gown with her long hair swept back in a loose knot, my smile slowly faded. I blinked several times at the breathtaking image before me. Fuck. Me. It’d been several long months since I’d had sex, and seeing her in that dress was not helping my very blue-balled situation. “Wow,” I murmured.

  “Does that warrant a ‘thank you’ or a ‘what’s wrong with me?’ response from me?” she teasingly asked.

  “You look beautiful.”

  A pleased expression came over her face. “Thanks. What’s in the box?”

  “Huh?”

  “The box in your hands.”

  “Oh yeah.” I walked over to stand before her. “Everett forgot to give this to you.”

  When Addison opened it, she gasped at the sight of the necklace. After she stood there just silently staring for a few moments, I jumped at the sound of her sudden laughter. Furrowing my brows at her, I asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “These feels like a scene out of a movie—Pretty Woman to be more exact, like you’re going to snap the box on my fingers like Richard Gere did to Julia Roberts.”

  “I’ve never seen it.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Is it a chick flick?”

  “I suppose you could call it that.”

  “Then trust me, I’ve never seen it.”

  “We’re just going to have to remedy that ASAP.”

  “On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You watch a macho movie.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Addison asked, “Like one with The Rock or Vin Diesel?”

  I flashed her a wicked grin. “Oh yes.”

  She sighed resignedly as she put the ruby earrings on. “Fine, it’s a deal.”

  After taking the necklace out of the box, I guided it over her head before bringing it to rest against her neck. As I closed the clasp, my eyes dropped down to take in an eyeful of her cleavage. My hand itched to dip into the dress to cup one of the perfect round globes, to feel her nipple harden beneath my fingers.

  “Eyes up here, Mr. Callahan,” Addison teased.

  “I was just checking to make sure the necklace was hanging right.”

  “Sure you were.”

  With a wink, I replied, “Fine, I was totally checking out your tits in that dress. Are you satisfied?”

  Addison wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, I hate that word.”

  “Tits?” I repeated, solely to aggravate her.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you rather me say breasts? Or maybe boobies?” I scratched my chin thoughtfully. “Knockers.”

  She smacked my arm. “How about you say none of them?”

  “I can’t make any promises.”

  With a sigh, she took my arm. Thankfully, I had managed to bring some levity to the moment. The last thing I needed was to be fantasizing about doing anything to Addison. The stakes were just too high, and there was too much to lose.

  The ball was being held at an exclusive country club just outside of Houston. When we got o
ut of the car, flashbulbs went off all around us, and we stood and posed for the photographers on the makeshift red carpet before heading inside. Instead of the usual classical or big band music, a full country band belted out tunes.

  We made the rounds, smiling and shaking hands before we were herded over to our table for dinner. Once dinner was over, it was time to put on a show with the photographers by taking a turn around the floor. As the band struck up “Carry Me Back to Virginia”, Dad threw back his head and laughed as he led Mom onto the dance floor. A pleased shock reverberated through the crowd as he high-stepped Mom around the floor, much like one of the Virginia reel dances of the past. “Do you know how to do that?” Addison asked as she clapped in time with the others.

  “Would you revoke my man card if I said yes?”

  She laughed. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Then yes, I know how to do that.”

  Addison’s eyes suddenly widened. “You guys don’t expect me to do that, do you?”

  “I have a feeling if we win, it’ll make its way into one of the inaugural balls.”

  “Count me out on that one.”

  “It’s not that hard,” I reassured her, although Addison didn’t seem convinced.

  Once the song ended, Dad and Mom received raucous applause. As they went back to their seats, it was time for Addison and me to take our turn. Thankfully, more couples walked out onto the dance floor so we wouldn’t totally be on display. The last thing we needed was to have a giant spotlight following our every move.

  As the band began playing a cover of Chris Stapleton’s “Fire Away”, I drew Addison closer against me. She pressed her cheek against my face, tucking her chin to my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the sweet fragrance of her shampoo; it smelled like a mixture of vanilla and coconut, and I immediately thought of our week at Martha’s Vineyard. I couldn’t wait until the election was over and we had time to go back there again.

  And then it hit me: we wouldn’t be going back there together. When the election was over, we were over.

  My heart clenched at the thought of Addison not being around. She had become such an integral part of my life. No longer did I think in just me terms, but it was always about us, or more importantly, about her. What did she want for lunch? How could I make her feel better when some fashion hack criticized one of her campaign dresses? What could we do to unwind after a long day of events?