by Katie Ashley
Maybe we would somehow remain friends after all this. It might work better for the press if we remained on good terms. I sure as hell didn’t like the thought of not ever hearing her laugh or seeing her roll her eyes at something I said. Pain continued to work its way through my chest, and I had to fight to breathe.
More than anything, I didn’t like the thought of her meeting someone else. Having some other man’s lips pressed against hers. Having their hands on the perfect curves of her body. Just the thought caused my body to tense in anger.
“Are you okay?” Addison asked.
“Yeah. Fine. Sorry.”
Dipping my head, I buried my face into her neck. Before I could stop myself, I began placing tender kisses along the soft skin of her shoulder. After shivering slightly, Addison sighed, her breath warming the top of my ear. My thumb rubbed a trail on the exposed skin between her shoulder blades as I kissed a trail up her neck and onto her cheek.
With my mouth inches from hers, I stared into her eyes. Just like her impulsive kiss at the convention the day before, I brought my lips to hers, but I didn’t give a quick peck like she had. Instead, my mouth stayed glued to hers like it was a lifeline in a turbulent sea.
At the sound of applause, I jerked away from her. I want more. More of her. More of her lips. More. Confusion had replaced the longing in her eyes. Forcing a smile to my face, I waved to the crowd before leading her off the dance floor. Although I wanted nothing more than to escape to somewhere I could be alone, Caroline bounded in front of me. “My turn, big brother.”
Gritting my teeth, I let Caroline push me back out in the spotlight. Once again, I fought to breathe as my tie felt like it was strangling the life out of me.
Deep down, I knew the truth. I didn’t want us to end. I didn’t want us to be just friends. I didn’t want to think in terms of just me. I wanted to keep wondering what she wanted for lunch. I wanted to continue unwinding together after a long day.
In that moment, it was crystal fucking clear that I wanted Addison. The real question was if I was I actually going to do anything about it.
ADDISON
After that night in Houston, I no longer knew how to act around Barrett. The lines had been blurred, although neither one of us would admit it. Some days I tried to distance myself as much as possible, while other days I acted just plain weird around him. When I say weird, I mean I found myself doing all the weird crap women do when they really like someone and want to catch his attention. Basically, I was acting like an inexperienced teenage girl with her first crush.
Barrett, on the other hand, acted as if nothing had happened, like the moment we left Houston, he had entered a time warp where things were exactly the same as in the beginning. He still aggravated the hell out of me with a barrage of sexual innuendo on a daily, if not hourly basis. His ability to transcend made me wonder if the whole thing had been some figment of my imagination.
Now a week after Houston, we were back on the Santa María and deep into the heart of Ohio. After our third rally of the day ended at eight, I had been so thrilled to climb the bus stairs that I fought the urge to kiss the top one. I made a beeline for the couch before anyone else could stake a claim. Since we weren’t campaigning with Senator Callahan, we had a skeleton crew. Besides Ty, we just had Pete and two of his minions helping run our schedule and appearances.
I had just pulled my Louboutins off my swollen feet when Barrett appeared. “Scoot over.”
“But there are plenty of chairs.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, but I want the couch.”
“And I need it so I can prop my feet up. When you’ve worn heels for thirteen hours, we’ll talk.”
“What if I offered to give you a foot rub?”
Cocking my head at Barrett, I asked, “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not. Hell, for part of the couch, I’d be willing to suck your toes.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Ew. I’ll pass on that one.”
Barrett laughed as I scooted down the couch. The moment he sat down, I plopped my stocking-clad feet in his lap. “You’re really holding me to it, aren’t you?”
“Damn straight.”
After cracking his knuckles, Barrett said, “All right, I’m going in.”
When his fingers started kneading my foot, my head lolled back against the back of the couch and a low groan of pleasure emanated from deep in my chest. “Man, you’re really good at that. You might have a future as a masseuse.”
“Comes from practice massaging other areas.”
Tilting my head, I peeked one eye at him. “Like the Bear?”
Barrett laughed. “I meant areas on a female’s body.”
“Of course you did.”
“Although he does get plenty of attention.”
“You mean he hasn’t gone into hibernation with the sex drought that’s been imposed on you?”
“He never hibernates. He’s always ready and willing should the opportunity arise.”
Cocking my brow at him, I asked, “Have there been any opportunities lately?”
He wiggled his fingers at me. “You mean besides with my hand?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
“I told you before, I’ve never cheated on a woman.”
“But we’re not really a couple.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I nibbled on my bottom lip as I processed the enormity of what he was saying. “During all this time, you haven’t snuck in a hookup?”
Barrett paused in massaging my foot to scowl at me. “No, I haven’t. Considering we’re practically joined at the hip, I’d love to know when you think it would have been possible for me to bang some random bimbo.”
He had a point. There was so little of our time that was spent apart, let alone any time completely alone. Since the beginning of our relationship, our schedules had been so regimented. Not only did I feel bad for doubting him, I was seriously impressed that he had been celibate this long.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to doubt you, especially since I don’t have any reason to suspect you.”
Barrett grinned. “Apology accepted.”
He then rubbed a spot that had been aching all day, and as it had been so long since I’d been touched like this, I hitched a breath in. Oh. With those magic hands of his on my feet and knowledge of the Bear via the internet, an ache began to spread between my thighs. When I shifted my hips, Barrett’s nostrils flared. “Is there a problem?”
To save face, I bent over to massage the top of my calf. “I had a cramp.”
“I must be loosening up some of the tension,” Barrett replied. His eyes dropped to watch his fingers working my calf muscle through my hose-clad skin. When his tongue darted out over his bottom lip, I sucked in another breath. If I was reading him correctly, his expression told me he’d like to run his hand up my foot, past my calf, and between my legs, and damn me to hell if I didn’t want the exact same thing.
I was just about to teasingly move my foot over his crotch when Pete stuck one of the secure phones in Barrett’s face. “It’s your dad.”
I immediately jerked my foot back as a feeling of unease washed over me. Secure phones were untraceable, and they also couldn’t be cloned. I knew for Senator Callahan to call Barrett on one meant something serious had happened, something he didn’t want anyone else to know about.
Barrett cupped the phone to his ear. “Hey Dad.” Whatever Senator Callahan said sent Barrett shooting up off the couch. “What?” he demanded. His free hand went to jerk its way through his hair.
Icy apprehension trickled down my spine. Leaning over, I peered around Barrett to give Pete a questioning look. He shook his head, which told me he didn’t know what the conversation was about.
The rigid tension in Barrett’s body loosened, sending his shoulders drooping. He hadn’t said another word. Instead, he had been listening intently to what James was saying. After what felt like an eternity, he said, “Okay. Call me
the minute you know more. Give Mom my love.” He nodded. “Yeah, I love you too.”
When Barrett ended the call and turned around, his face was white as a sheet. I jumped off the couch to stand in front of him. “What happened?”
“The convoy Thorn was leading was hit by a roadside bomb. Three of his men were killed. He got hit in the leg with some shrapnel, but other than that, he’s fine.”
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “Thank God.”
Barrett nodded. “They’re about to release the story to the media, and Dad didn’t want me to hear it over the news since they won’t release the soldiers’ names yet.”
I couldn’t imagine how scary it had been for Barrett during those few seconds when he thought Thorn had been killed. When a shudder ran through Barrett’s body, I didn’t hesitate to pull him into me for a hug. He welcomed my embrace by wrapping his arms around me, and then he shocked the hell out of me when he said, “I need to light a candle for Thorn’s men.”
“Of course.”
“And I need some whiskey.”
I smiled into his shoulder. “After that call, I’m sure you do.” Easing back, I looked at Pete. “Can you google the closest Catholic church to us while I get Barrett a drink?”
Pete nodded and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’m on it.”
“Thank you.”
Ty appeared from the bedroom where he’d been catching up on some missed sleep.
“My phone just went off with a secure call alert. What’s going on?”
After squeezing Barrett tight, I turned us around and then pushed him down on the couch. “You fill in Ty, and I’ll get that whiskey.”
“Okay.”
Ty hurried down the aisle to sit by Barrett. After digging around in the liquor cabinet, I glanced over my shoulder at them. “Um, I don’t see any.”
“It’s the Glenmorangie Pride—the oval bottle.”
“Oh, okay.” I pulled it out. “I was looking for Jack Daniels with the black label.”
Ty snorted next to me. “Barrett’s palate is far too discriminating for cheap whiskey.”
Eyeing the bottle, I said, “Is this kind more expensive than Jack?”
“Try four thousand a bottle.”
“F-Four th-thousand?” I was so shocked that I fumbled the bottle and almost dropped it. Breathing a sigh of relief, I quickly sat it down on the counter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.”
Opening the top, I inhaled the amber-colored contents. “Hmm, I would’ve thought for that price you would get high just from inhaling it.”
Barrett chuckled. “Not quite.”
After a grabbing a glass out of the cabinet, I poured it half full. When I handed it to him, Barrett said, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He brought the glass to his lips and took a long gulp then quirked his brows at me. “Aren’t you going to have any?”
“I’m not much of a whiskey girl.”
Barrett held out the glass to me. “Try it. You might change your mind.”
“I might change my mind about Jack Daniels, but there’s no way in hell I’d ever be so extravagant as to buy this stuff,” I replied as I took the whiskey. With Barrett’s eyes on me, I took a bigger gulp than he had. Instantly, I regretted the urge to one-up him. Although the liquor had a smooth feel, something about the taste was just wretched. If it had been cheap, I would’ve spit it out, but instead, I swallowed it down.
“Nope. Still not a whiskey girl.”
Barrett just laughed as I handed him back his glass.
A moment later, Pete came over with his phone. “St. Francis is ten minutes from where we are now, and it’s open until midnight.”
With a nod, Barrett said, “I can pay my respects, and then we can grab a bite to eat.”
“Good, I’m starving.”
Barrett had downed his whiskey by the time the bus turned into the church parking lot. Ty immediately got off the couch when we parked and headed to the door; I knew he was going to do a quick sweep of the parking lot on the off chance there was somebody out there who wanted to hurt Barrett.
When I remained seated, Barrett glanced over his shoulder at me. “Aren’t you coming in with me?”
“Oh, um, I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone.”
“I’d like the company if you don’t mind.”
My heart beat a little faster at his declaration. I felt the urge to argue that with Ty trailing behind him, he wouldn’t be alone, but I didn’t. “Of course I don’t mind.”
I quickly rose off the couch and headed over to him, and he motioned for me to go first down the stairs. When we got off the bus, we started down the walkway and into the church. Over the years, I’d toured many Catholic churches, always admiring the architecture and the beautiful art and stained glass windows. St. Francis was a lot smaller than the churches I’d been in before, and while it didn’t have the impressive architecture, it di have a warm, inviting feeling.
Instead of hanging back, I stuck to Barrett’s side. A small fount with holy water sat just inside the vestibule, and Barrett dipped his fingers in then crossed himself. When he caught my eye, he grinned. “Were you afraid it was going to burn me?”
I laughed. “No, it’s just interesting seeing this side of you.”
“Although it might be surprising, I am a man of faith.”
“If you tell me you were an altar boy back in the day, I might faint.”
“No, I was never an altar boy, but that doesn’t mean I was any less holy.” He gave me a pointed look. “At least as a kid.”
As we started up the aisle, Barrett knelt down on one knee and crossed himself again. At the top of the altar, the amber flames of numerous candles flickered on a tiered table. My head turned left and right as I took everything in. It was after nine, but there were still two other people kneeling on the risers with rosaries in their hands.
When we reached the table, Barrett took a fresh candle out of the box. He reached out to light it, but then he froze. “What’s wrong?”
“I just realized I don’t know their names.”
“I think God will know who you mean.”
Barrett considered my words for a moment before nodding. He then lit his candle on one of the others before bowing his head. I felt it only right to do the same, and I said a few words in prayer for the families of the men who had been killed.
When I lifted my head, I turned to see Barrett had his eyes on me. His expression was unreadable, but standing there with him in the candles’ illumination, I once again felt electricity swirling in the air, just as I had that night in Houston. The growing spark between us once again grew a little stronger.
Just as soon as it came, it vanished once again, like snuffing out the flame of a candle. Barrett took a step back, breaking the spell. “I, uh, I’m going to pop in the confessional,” he stated.
“Okay, take your time. I’ll wait for you.”
He nodded before heading over to the built-in boxes that housed the confessional. After he dipped out of sight behind the dark curtains, I turned and walked back down the aisle then sat down on one of the last benches. As I gazed around the church, I tried not to overthink what was going on between us. I had to once again ask myself if I even wanted it to be anything. A fake relationship was complicated enough during the campaign, and I couldn’t imagine trying to maintain a real one, especially with someone like Barrett who didn’t do relationships. In the end, wouldn’t I just be setting myself up for heartache?
Barrett emerged from the confessional and came over to meet me. His mood seemed lighter, and I was thankful he was feeling better. “It went well?” I asked.
He grinned. “Yeah. It did.”
“Good.”
As we started out of the church, I said, “I think people would have paid good money to see what I just did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Bare Callahan voluntarily going to confession.�
�� I turned to him with a smile. “Now that is a headline.”
Barrett chuckled. “I guess me in a confessional would turn people’s perception on their ass.”
“You know, John F. Kennedy faithfully attended mass.”
“Thanks for the tidbit.”
“What I meant was just because you have a womanizing reputation, that doesn’t mean you don’t have faith.”
“Most would argue that I should probably sin a little less.”
“That’s not for them to judge. Your sin is yours alone.”
With a grin, Barrett said, “I like your way of thinking, Addison.”
“I’m glad,” I replied.
Walking to the bus, Barrett jerked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Jesus, I can’t even begin to imagine what Thorn is going through right now, not to mention having to do it thousands of miles away from his family.”
“Can your parents visit him in the hospital?”
“Dad mentioned something about it, depending on how long he had to stay.”
“Maybe you could go with them?”
From the expression on his face, I could tell Barrett hadn’t even thought of it. “That’s not a bad idea.” He gave me an earnest look. “But not for some photo op bullshit.”
“Of course not. Because he’s your big brother and you love him.”
“Exactly.” When we reached the bus, he patted his stomach. “Now how about some food?”
I laughed. “Sounds good to me.”
After getting greasy burgers and fries at a truck stop down the highway, we got back on the road. Barrett and I once again took the couch, although this time he didn’t offer any foot rubs. Instead, we propped our feet on the table in front of us and started watching some of the campaign coverage on the television. The combination of a full stomach and the swaying of the bus lulled me to sleep.
