Afterward, I sit up and rearrange my clothes, and watch him for a minute. His hair rumpled by me, his mouth pink, and looking a little bit possessive, he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But I don’t want him to know this.
“I’m still irritated,” I mumble.
He stands and zips up. Then he takes my chin and leans over, kissing me, voice husky. “So am I. I know you know better, Charlotte.”
I groan, pushing at him as I straighten. Matt’s eyes drink me in as he’s straightening his tie and securing his cuff links, while I feel like I just got high on a drug called President Hamilton.
“I’m not canceling,” I warn him.
“I don’t want you to cancel,” he firmly retorts. “I want you to take it easier on yourself. Pace yourself. I warned you last night. I’m not fucking kidding about you or our child. You have years to champion your cause.”
“Matthew . . . the doctor said that I should continue with life as normal.”
“And there lies the caveat. You don’t live a normal life, Charlotte.”
He swings open the door of the Oval, striding to his desk, grabbing his glasses and slipping them on, his forehead scrunched as he settles back in his chair.
He scrapes his thumb across his chin, thoughtful, as he starts reading papers again.
“Matt?” I demand.
He lifts his head.
“I promise. Nothing matters to me more than you and this baby,” I assure him.
He nods curtly, voice calm. “Good. We’re clear then,” he says easily, back to work.
I just stare.
He looks up. “I lost my father too damn soon. I’m not going to lose you to exhaustion—or our child to extensive touring. It’s not worth it. Nothing is.”
My anger melts a little; I can’t seem to be able to get angry for long.
I know he’s frustrated the FBI hasn’t found any new leads into his father’s case. It’s an old case. What Matthew wants is near impossible. But he’s been pressing the Bureau to be better, do more, enhance their strategies, their intelligence, and their teams—he’s even strategized to get an increase of funding to both the FBI and CIA, to ensure the United States have the highest degree of competence when in search of justice.
The impossible for him does not exist.
And yet, chaos is the evildoer’s best friend, after all. And yesterday I leapt right into it without thinking—stirring Matthew’s frustrations anew.
I smile as I watch him read the thick document in his hand. “I love you and those silly glasses,” I admit.
My smile fades a little when he looks at me. He gives me a smile.
And he pulls his glasses to the bridge of his nose and eyes me across the room. “Don’t try to sweet-talk your way into working yourself to the bone. That won’t work with me.”
“I didn’t think it would,” I lie, taking myself to the door. “I know what works.” I mouth, Oral.
And I see the most adorable smile touch his lips before he leans back in his chair, looks at me soberly, and purrs, teasing me, “That’s right.”
I laugh as I leave, heading straight to Clarissa.
“Did you give the president a piece of your mind?” Clarissa asks with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, definitely.” More like a little piece of pregnant mama booty. I head to my desk and look over the schedule. “Do you agree with him that this is a hectic schedule?”
“I told you from the moment we drafted it that we couldn’t reasonably cover all these schools in such a short amount of time.”
“Why didn’t you insist?” I groan. “We need to redo it.”
“Because I knew he’d set his foot down,” she admits, still seemingly amused.
I sigh and look over everything, exhausted just thinking about moving all the visits around.
“What if I recruited a group of passionate women to help me cover all these areas—spread our Kids for the Future message?” I ask.
Clarissa loves the idea so much that by that evening, we’ve got a new plan hashed out, and meetings set up with women like me who want the kids to have the best opportunities, the best futures, the best self-esteem, and the best chances at achieving their dreams one day.
I’m beat that night when I feel the mattress of his bed shift, and his body spoon me from behind. I sigh contentedly as he buries his nose in my neck, planting a kiss there.
“Guess what? I won’t bribe you with oral after all,” I breathe sleepily.
“You may most definitely try.” His chuckle is warm as he nuzzles my throat.
I smile. “I had a great idea today and found a way to have it all without . . . what did you say? ‘Working myself to the bone’?” I frown and flip around, shooting him a black stare as he props himself on his elbows above me.
Even in the shadows, I can make out the amusement on his face, his chest bare, gloriously bare and muscular as he leans above me. “That’s right,” he says.
His eyes. I swear they’re like the best coffee you will ever have.
“I appreciate you taking my concerns seriously,” he says as he brushes back a strand of hair behind my forehead. “What’s mine is mine. And I want my girl to be safe, always.” He eases down my body, his eyes on mine looking wolfish and proprietary as he places a kiss on my belly. “And our little one, too.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, his tender kiss spreading warmth all over my body.
“Are you ready to find out the sex on Friday?” I reach out to stroke my fingers through his thick sable hair, then against the stubble on his jaw, feeling it rasp over my skin.