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“And you?”
He swallows thickly and lets out a huffed sigh. “Your only flaw is that you were born for greatness but are settling for less than you deserve.” There isn’t a hint of sarcasm. Alex rubs a hand over his face, his voice muffled. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”
“You think I’m born for greatness?” I ask carefully, taking a step toward him.
“Your foundation for the protection of cherry blossom trees isn’t exactly going to help your chances when you run for office. You’re capable of so much more than you’re settling for.”
“Hey! The cherry blossoms need protecting,” I deadpan, failing to hide my smile. He’s right; it’s a fucking joke.
“They bloom for a month a year!” he chuckles, and it’s the lightest I’ve felt since we stepped into the room. “What are you doing for the other eleven?”
I narrow my eyes playfully at him. “Cherry blossoms are in our hearts year-round… But it’s my mother’s foundation, I’m just on the board.”
Alex lets out a hearty laugh, small crinkles forming around his eyes. “We may need to work on your branding when you run for office. Maybe add in a fewmore pertinentissues for you to get behind than pretty trees.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I insist, “I’m not running for office.”
“I thought you said you want to be free of the lies?” He mirrors my expression, and,damn it, he’s got me there. I’ve never felt more seen, stripped bare in a single question.
I reach up and begin unpinning my hair, haphazardly tossing the pins onto a small table one-by-one. “You want the truth? I’ll help my husband run for President, bide my time as the perfect First Lady, and campaign for a representative seat in the midterms after his eight years.”
“Or, you could lethimwait and run in the midterm election in three.” He shrugs, then gestures for me to turn around to help me pull out the last few dozen bobby pins. I spin, and his warm breath tickles my neck as he whispers, “Congresswoman Taylor has a nice ring to it.”
Goosebumps cascade down my arms, though not from his suggestion; the sheer proximity has me on edge. “My experience is lacking, as you so aptly pointed out.”
“You’re married to a senator, you’re the daughter of a former president. And if your last name isn’t a foot in the door, you finished valedictorian for undergrad. Rumor has it that you finished top in your class at law school as well.”How does he know about my J.D.?He lowers hisvoice slightly as he adds, “You’re more than a cherry blossom conservationist, Jaclyn.”
Alex pulls a pin from my hair, then traces his finger from my ear to my bare shoulder, and I find myself wishing it was his tongue. My impure thoughts rattle me, and I accidentally elbow him in the ribs. Quickly pivoting to assess the damage I’ve inflicted, I find him gripping his middle.
“Shit, Alex, I’m so sorry!”
He laughs through the pain, “No, I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t mean to tickle you.”
Tickle me? Is that what he thought that was?
“Right, yes, well… I’m very sensitive.” I check him over, pulling his arm away and pressing my hand to the middle of his chest. Though with his shirt on, I have no idea what I’m doing—not that I’d know what to look for if he was shirtless. “Are you all right?”
“No, definitely not.”
I glance up, finding no hazel in his dark irises, swiftly pulling my hand back. “I think you’re right. It’s been a long night. It would be best to get some sleep.”
There’s a knock at the door, making me jump, and as I sigh out a long breath, Alex answers it. I’m grateful for the reprieve as the bellman pulls in our two large suitcases on a dolly and unloads them from the cart. Alex tips him, and once the door closes, he groans to himself. “Here’s to hoping my brother’s clothes fit me. Whydon’t you take a shower first and I’ll send a message to my father that we’ll come by tomorrow?”
I nod and take my suitcase into the bedroom, tossing it onto one of the mattresses. He does the same on the other bed. With his hand poised to unzip it, I lift mine to stop him. “Wait!”
“What’s wrong?” He steps back, hands surrendered.
“The housekeepers. They’ll notice two unmade beds in the morning. All it’ll take is one of them talking and the headlines will read:Jaclyn and Chris Blake Fail to Consummate Marriage.”
“Ah, we can’t have that, can we?” he laughs. “It’s fine, I’ll take the couch.”
“It’s hardly a couch; it’ll only fit half your body. We’re both adults. We can share a bed.”
“No.” His jaw tics. “We can’t.”
“Why the hell not?” I open my suitcase, and after a quick once over, I realize I don’t have pajamas to stay the night with him—I typically sleep naked. Pulling out a pair of red lacy underwear, I quickly hide them in black leggings and a heather gray tank top.
I look over at Alex rummaging through Chris’ suitcase as he mutters, “Fucking boxers? You have to be kidding me.”
