“You’re just…” He shakes his head. “When I met you, well, you were…it’s just wild, the changes.”
“I could say the same about you.”
He turns to Tobias. “Are you going to put a ring on this woman or what?”
Tobias gazes on at me, completely silent, without any intention of replying. He asked me if I wanted children, and not even an hour ago said he would marry me if he were selfish, which only confused me further. Breaking our gaze, I stare out the window. “He’s barely managed to get through six weeks of domesticity, Tyler,” I smirk. “Let’s cut him a break.”
Buttoning his jacket, earpiece in place, Tyler exits the limo and leads us into an underground entrance. We walk down a long, lifeless corridor and enter the elevator. Minutes later, we step into the Oval Office as the President hovers over his wife, who seems to be giving him hell from where she sits on the couch.
“—you stubborn ass.”
“Baby, don’t be rude,” he glances up, his politician’s smile firmly in place, “we have company.”
The First Lady directs her attention to us, her scowl giving way to a playful smile as she stands. The President’s eyes land on Tobias a second before they rush toward the other, doing the man clap thing and holding their embrace for a few lingering seconds.
“It’s been too long,” the President says as they break and take a seconds long look at each other before his eyes roll over Tobias in appraisal. “Nice suit. You look good, brother.”
“And you look like shit,” Tobias quips.
“Goes with the job. I’m projected to look mid-forties by the end of my first term.”
His wife speaks up. “I’ve told you a thousand times not to pay attention to that bullshit.”
The President’s sparkling eyes find me, and I’m so flustered by the sight of him that I flush.
“I can see why you have taken an interest in Virginia.”
Tobias turns, pride in his eyes as he reaches for me and introduces me to them both.
“Mr. President—”
“Cut the crap, King,” the First Lady says.
“This is Cecelia Horner.”
“So nice to meet you, sir,” I say, pumping his hand, my voice shaking at the reality I’m currently in. Mere hours ago, I was in Virginia, fighting with Tobias in a closet as he ripped my panties off, licking me senseless while demanding I pick out a dress. Now I’m standing in the Oval Office.
“Call me Preston.”
“And I’m Molly,” his wife adds, her eyes sweeping me. “So, you’re the one that got away.”
“I didn’t run far enough, apparently.”
Her eyes light with her laugh. “I hope you’re giving him hell.”
“She is,” Tobias chimes in.
“It’s truly an honor to meet you both,” I say, allowing myself the moment. Molly Monroe has been a sort of idol for me since the campaign trail. No bullshit in her delivery, both on and off camera, and she constantly reins hell on the media. She’s very much ‘what you see is what you get’ in an ‘in your face’ way. She seems to truly care about the work she’s doing, has amazing fashion sense, and doesn’t seem to give two shits about outsider’s opinions.
“You’ll have to excuse my outburst when you got here. My jackass of a husband seems to think calling my bluff on quitting time is a good idea. He’s under some notion that he’s boss.”
Preston looks our way, his eyes wary. “I had my pick of debutantes from every state to choose from, and I happened to pick the sassiest, most stubborn woman alive to badger me until death do us part.”