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Fucking exclamation point.
And I’ll give up everything to keep her.
Jaclyn lets out another deep sigh, and the ache in my chest is too much; she’s giving me no indication of what she’s thinking. I fucking hate it. All I want to do is throw her over my shoulder, and run far away from my brother, Washington, and two very untrustworthy Irish brothers.
“I… I’ll see you in a few,” she whispers sheepishly.
Fuck. That.
After this, she may push me away, choose him, take the easy route, and further entangle herself with the Gallaghers. On the off chance she does, I need one more moment, one moresecondwith her where it’s just…us. Capturing her lips with mine in a bruising kiss, she moans into my mouth, confirming this isn’t one-sided. I know in my soul she loves me, but her situation is significantly more fucked-up than mine is.
Jaclyn slides her hands up my chest until they’re around my neck, pulling me impossibly close to her. The desperate need to have her is overwhelming.
Refusing to end our kiss, her words contradict her actions as she mutters against my lips, “We can’t do this.”
“Then, stop kissing me.”
“I can’t,” she whimpers. “I’m falling in love with you.” A possessive growl rumbles in my chest. With an insecure shakiness in her voice, she adds, “You have to know this is breaking my heart,” and mine skips a beat at her admission.
“I’d rather die than hurt you, princess.” She stills in my arms. “Too soon? With the accident?”
Jaclyn huffs a soft laugh. “Probably.”
“Don’t do this. Stay with me, chooseme, and I’ll find a way out of this mess.” I finally break our kiss, needing her to see how serious I am when I confess, “I love you, Jaclyn. Fuck, I need you more than I need to breathe. Choose. Me.”
“It’s not a matter of choice.” She places my hand over her heart. “You stole this and I don’t want it back. I’m trying to do what’s right for us and for the country.”
“We’ll do it together.” I slide my hand into her hair and keep my thumb resting on her cheek, unable to tear my eyes away from hers. She melts into my touch and I’m a fucking goner. “And I’m trying to be a gentleman, but I swear if you don’t get out of here, I’m going to bend you over that table until you’re coming all over my face and cock… twice.”
“Promise?” she taunts, a small light beaming from her that I haven’t seen in a while.
“Later, my little wife. Go be magnificent, and I promise you won’t regret waiting.”
Chapter 39
Jaclyn
What the hell am I doing?
Each and every time I see Alex, I’m swept up by his sweet words, my undeniable attraction to him, and the way he can command my body with a single touch. It’s maddening how charming he is. The logical choice is to run far, far away, fake a happy marriage with Chris, and pray each night that I’ll be forgiven for my sins.
What if he’s right?
What if the Gallaghers can help me find a cozy spot in the House or maybe even something at the state level? Alex and Finn are irrational for thinking I could ever run for President, but maybe if I give in…
“You’re rusty, Taylor,” echoes in my head, and Alex is right. I am. I need to stay sharp. I’ve been complacent; there are too many enemies tonight.
Making my way to the ballroom, everything seems to be in order. With the staff bustling between tables to ensure every last detail is perfect, I take in the expertly decorated space, and pride swells in my chest. Perhaps I was an event planner in a past life; attention to detail is certainly my strong suit. Each table is covered with crimson tablecloths, set for dinner service. While I think gold and silver would’ve been gorgeous, my mother insisted we make a statement with red. Despite our short-lived disagreement, it’s still beautiful.
There won’t be much to celebrate if everything falls apart, so I cross the room to one of the bars and order an Old Fashioned with an extra cherry—there’s nothing wrong with a little pat on the back for things running smoothly.
The bartender makes quick work of preparing my drink, giving me a third cherry and a wink as he pours the whiskey over the muddled sugar and bitters. Sliding the drink to me, I’m about to thank him when a strong arm wraps around my middle from behind. Immediately, I sense it’s Chris and not Alex, and it’s confirmed when he kisses my bare shoulder.
“You look delicious enough to eat, Mrs. Blake.” It’s for show—everything is with Chris. His goal is achieved as the bartender’s shoulders slump in defeat.
I spin his embrace. “What do you say we auction you off one lasttime?”
“Only if you’ll bid on me.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “How much do you think I’ll go for?”
