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Authors: Jeanne McDonald

Politically Incorrect (26 page)

BOOK: Politically Incorrect
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Nine o’clock.

I parked my car in front of Liam’s townhome. All day long I was a bundle of nerves. Our encounter the night before had been spontaneous. This, however, was premeditated. The political guru in me cringed at my lack of rationale, but the woman inside me hungered for the man inside that house.

One last glance at myself in the mirror and I got out of the car. Glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone noticed me, I found the streets devoid of life. The moon was nonexistent, almost as if it were staying hidden just for me. I thanked the man in the moon for vailing my secrets.

At the door, I buttoned my coral jacket over the ivory satin camisole Jordyn insisted on me wearing. To be honest, I wasn’t too sure I was dressed appropriately. Normally on a first date I’d sport a little black dress or something in burgundy. Dark colors were my niche. Jordyn swore with my hazel eyes and blonde hair, lighter colors and distressed skinny jeans were the right way to go.

God help that kid if she was wrong.

I rubbed my lips together, my hand mid-air ready to ring the doorbell. This was the moment of truth. Butterflies in my stomach, I pressed my fingertip to the pearl button. An odd feeling swirled inside me as the chime broke through the silence. It wasn’t anxiety. It was more like anticipation.

From behind the door, I heard the padding of feet followed by the twist of the lock. It creaked opened, and there before me stood a relaxed Liam, wearing dark wash jeans paired with a gray collared shirt under a black pullover sweater.

A slow smile bloomed over his face. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d stood me up.”

I rested a hand on my hip. “As if I could. You know where I live.”

“You’re catching on quickly.”

“Not quick enough, it seems.”

“Faster than you think.” Liam rushed his fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his forehead. For the first time since the night I’d met him, I noticed the scar above his left brow. I stepped toward him, tracing the small but prominent scar.

At the realization I’d touched him so intimately before we were behind closed doors, I dropped my hand and clenched it at my side.

Liam slipped his fingers under my chin, tilting my face upward. Light haloed around his head shining through each strand of his dark hair. “Stop worrying. I won’t let anything bad happen to either of us.”

“You can’t promise that,” I rasped.

“I just did.”

Warm tingles shot through me as the power of his words sank in. He was committing himself to me. There were no gimmicks, no coups, just a simple promise of what was yet to come.

All my life I’d put my daughter and my job ahead of romance. I didn’t need a man to dictate how to live or who to be. I came and went as I pleased, but with Liam, things were different. By walking into that house I was giving myself to him beyond sex. Beyond politics. I was giving him everything.

Without hesitation, I stepped inside.

As the door closed behind us, I circled my arms around his neck, and planted a kiss to his lips. He complied, pulling me flush against his taut form. A tender greeting turned sultry in seconds. He cupped my ass as his rich, warm tongue probed my willing mouth. Even as close as we were, locked in this smoldering kiss, I wanted more. Needed more.

My hands moved down his chest, stopping at the button of his jeans. Liam caught my wrists and pulled away from me. “Not yet,” he panted. “I have dinner all set.”

“Dinner can wait. I want you. Here. Now.”

“You have me.” He brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “And we have all night together. So, let’s not rush things.”

I furrowed my brow taking in his light yet serious expression. Liam tilted his head to the side, waiting for me to respond. I pushed up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his square jaw. “Okay. No rushing things.” I took a step back and smirked. “It’s not like I haven’t already had you naked in my bed or anything.”

Liam licked his lips, his eyes glinting with mischievousness. “Or walked in on me getting out of the shower.”

I clapped my hands to my hips. “I think hot and heavy sex trumps naked shower time.”

“I can’t argue there.” He gave me a wink and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Now, no more sex talk until after we eat.”

I had to bite my tongue on that one. Oh the sexual innuendos I could conjure from that comment.

Liam directed me through his tastefully decorated home, filled with bright colors and bold prints. Liam’s affirmation for all things bold seemed to surpass his taste in neckwear. Spacious and open, it carried the feel of a bachelor pad but with an elegant flare.

“So, how was shopping with Jordyn?” Liam inquired, as we entered the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and showed it to me. I nodded my approval. The man did have good taste. He uncorked the bottle and began to pour.

“You tell me. Was my trip successful?” I did a little turn in the middle of his kitchen before sliding onto a bar stool. Before me sat two lidded plates. A brown paper sack rested in front of the plates, all rolled and crumpled. It seemed like an odd centerpiece but I could roll with it.

My eyes darted to Liam, who smirked. “I’d say it was successful. You’re stunning.”

He slipped a glass into my hand. I took a sip of the sweet wine to hide the heat I felt rising in my cheeks. I’d been told I was beautiful many times, but there was something about Liam saying it that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Damn him for making me blush.

Liam took his place beside me at the bar. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m not really a formal kind of guy. I thought it might be more comfortable to eat dinner here rather than in the dining room.”

I swirled the wine inside my glass. “This is perfect.” I glanced at the odd centerpiece again. Maybe he was trying to ripen avocados or something. My mother did that when I was a kid. I tilted one way then the next trying to decipher what could be in the bag. There were no indicating marks, so my curiosity got the better of me. “Okay,” I pointed to the centerpiece, “I must know, what’s in the sack?” I placed my glass on the counter. “Please don’t tell me it’s shit some pissed off constituent left on your doorstep.”

Liam snorted and sputtered on his wine. “God, no. I’ve never had that happen. Knock on wood.” He rapped his knuckles against the bar.

“That’s Formica,” I pointed out.

“Close enough.” He gave me a quick wink and pushed the bag toward me. “This is for you to take home with you in the morning.”

“You got me a gift?”

Liam shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a gift. Believe me, I thought about buying you something, like flowers or chocolates, but I knew that really wasn’t your style.”

“I never realized I was so hard to buy for,” I joked, tugging the sack open. I stuck my hand inside and pulled out a box of condoms. “Talk about your wrong choice of words.”

Liam took the box from me and placed it back into the bag. “That’s to replace the box we stole from Jordyn last night.”

I grabbed the sack and peered into its depths. “But there’s more than one box in there!”

Liam lifted his hand, resting it on my cheek. “Last night you told me you believe a woman in a relationship should always be prepared. Well, I believe a man should be as well. So, I bought a box to keep in your room and one for mine.”

I shifted to the edge of my seat and kissed his sweet wine-flavored lips. “That’s sweet, but please tell me you didn’t buy these yourself. I beg you to tell me that I shouldn’t be on the horn with Scout right now preparing for an onslaught of candid photos of you in a drug store buying multiple boxes of condoms.”

Liam kissed the tip of my nose, laughing. “I sent Aaron, because I knew you’d have a meltdown.”

I wasn’t sure which was worse ─ some random person seeing him buy condoms or his brother buying them for him. “I guess that means you told Aaron about us?”

“And you didn’t tell Jordyn?”

I drummed my fingertips against the counter. “She guessed.”

“As did Aaron. Apparently, I was
glowing
this morning,” he stated with a hint of amusement tinging his tone.

I clasped my hands over my mouth, laughing. “Oh my God! Me, too!” My laughter soon died as I considered what this meant. “We need to talk about this.”

“Agreed.” I turned to face him. He did the same, straddling his knees around mine. He took my hands in his and smiled. “So, my dear handler, how do we move forward?”

My head bobbed of its own accord. He was making light of the situation, but I felt the nervous tension in him. “It might be best for us to keep our relationship under lock and key until after the election.”

He rubbed his thumbs along mine. “I expected that and agree, but wouldn’t it be prudent to let Scout in on our little secret?”

Scout. Shit. No, I didn’t want to tell Scout. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Little secrets turn into big scandals, and the more people in on the secret, the bigger chance there was of it getting out.

“You want the truth?” I flipped my hands over, threading my fingers through his.

“Always.”

“If I stepped back and pretended I was talking to another client, the first thing I’d do is tell him to get the hell out of the relationship. No piece of ass is worth the potential loss.” Liam’s mouth popped open. I released his hand and pressed my fingers to his lips, stopping his near tirade. “I’m not saying I’m a piece of ass. You’ve made your intentions very clear.”

He kissed the pads of my fingers. “It’s good to see you were listening.”

I slid my hand to his cheek, unable to hold back a smile. “I have been, but you must understand, I know what women like me can do to men like you. You can’t afford a scandal like me.”

“You’re not a scandal.” He was so serious that my heart ached. Yet I knew he was wrong.

“I am, whether you want to admit it or not. But, with that said, and knowing that neither of us is willing to walk away, I agree it’s imperative we tell Scout. Not that I like it, but it’s the responsible thing to do.”

Liam hummed in agreement. “Spoken like the class act I hired.”

“I’m sure it’ll be a relief to Aaron. I bet he’s about to explode with this little tidbit on us.”

Liam pulled my wrists to his lips, kissing my pulse lines. “It is, but it’s fun to watch my brother squirm.”

I smacked Liam on the chest, laughing. “You’re so mean to each other.”

“That’s what brothers are for!”

I rolled my eyes and turned toward the counter, tapping my fingers on the lid of the plate in front of me. “It’s settled. Tomorrow I’ll call Aaron and Scout in for a meeting and we will discuss our,” I paused, the word
relationship
on the tip of my tongue, instead I detoured, “situation.”

“Sounds like a plan, but I do need to increase our list of confidants by one.”

I frowned. “You realize the more people who know the more chances we have for a slip up, right?”

Liam took a long drink of his wine. “I do, but I also know this person would rather die than betray my confidence.”

“Kristin?” I guessed.

“Yes. She’s my dearest friend in the world, and I feel it’s best she knows what’s going on.”

I toyed with the napkin beside my plate. I understood wanting to keep a best friend in the loop. There once was a time I would’ve run to Harper with my good news, but his reaction in Dallas was enough of an indicator that he wouldn’t take the news well. The pragmatist in me would’ve agreed with him.

“If you think she needs to know, I understand. But please stress to her the importance of keeping our secret.”

“Kristin knows how to keep a secret,” he stated with fierce authority. “She’s proven that time and time again.”

That same feeling I had when I first met Kristin struck me. I almost asked what they were hiding, but knew I’d get the same answer he always gave. I’d bide my time. Eventually, I’d get to the bottom of the Kristin mystery.

“I know she can.”

“So we can put this part behind us?”

“I think so. We have our tight knit circle and that’s where we stay until after the election.”

“Until after the election,” he agreed. “Now let’s eat.”

And that’s what we did, along with spending the better part of our evening simply getting to know each other outside of the campaign. I learned so much about him, things that no amount of vetting would have ever uncovered. Beneath that political façade laid the heart of a philosopher and poet. Being with him, the man, not the candidate, was interesting and enjoyable. He could quote Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Plato with ease. We argued about the greatest musicians of the nineties, and when he suggested that The Offspring were better than Metallica I damn near had an aneurism.

By the end of the night, we were in his bedroom doing things that would make the headline news sing with scandal.

That part I tried not to think about.

In the early morning hours, I woke in his arms to the sound of his cell phone ringing. Liam rolled over, releasing me from his warm embrace. “Yeah,” he grunted. “I was afraid of that.” There was a pause. “Okay. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll be there.”

BOOK: Politically Incorrect
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