The Kingmaker (All the King's Men Duet #1) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,114
as much of a head start as possible.
“Change of plans?” I frown and mentally review my meetings for the next day with volunteer coordinators in Ohio. “If we’re gonna stay on track for February, we have to stick to the schedule.”
“I’m well aware,” she says dryly.
I’m handpicking volunteer coordinators in our most crucial battleground states and starting to strategize. We’ll use technology to reach voters in as many innovative ways as possible, but I learned early on to never underestimate the importance of a strong ground game.
“I’m on my way to the airport now,” I say. “I’m so confused, and you know I hate being confused about as much as I hate Peanut Butter.”
“I’m not sure I trust people who don’t like Peanut Butter.”
“It sticks to the . . . never mind! What is the change of plans? I need to tell this driver what to do.”
“Oh, he already knows.”
“Excuse me, sir?” I catch the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Where are we going?”
“We’re here, ma’am,” he says.
I look out the window of the SUV and realize we’re at an empty tarmac. Empty except for a jet with CadeCo emblazoned on the side.
“I’m going to get you both,” I tell Kimba when I look back to my screen and find her grinning. I’m grinning, too, though, so she can only take my threat so seriously.
Maxim was called away literally on New Year’s Day, almost as soon as the party was over because of some explosion at one of his Asia-based companies. A week into our “second chance” and we haven’t been in the same room once, not since the garden, and I leave for my service trip with Wallace in a few days.
“Get me?” Kimba pretends to consider it. “I think you mean thank me later.”
The driver, already carrying my suitcase, opens the door for me. I hesitate. Yes, the jet says CadeCo, but my Cade is nowhere in sight.
I’m about to dial Maxim when a hybrid SUV pulls up. Maxim opens the door and strides toward me with a grin I can only call wolfish—wide and wily, and like he plans to eat me. Scruff shadows that protractor jawline and his dark hair curls around his ears. I mentioned liking it longer. I hope he’s not growing it out for me. I love the silky hair any way I can feel it.
He’s wearing a cable-knit sweater the color of oatmeal, which should be illegal contrasting with his tanned skin that way. Dark-wash jeans and boots make him look so rugged and sexy, my thighs immediately clench with the need to clamp around him. I don’t know what he has planned, but sex better be on the agenda, or I’m making a motion to amend.
His arms encircle me and he dips his head for a kiss. His hands rove over my back, gripping low on my hips, just short of my ass, and urge me up onto my toes. He plunders my mouth, the heat of the kiss burning through my self-consciousness in seconds. I’m straining up, folding my arms at the elbows behind his neck, opening my mouth greedily under his, sucking his tongue in as deep and hard as humanly possible. I forget about our audience of two and grunt and moan and whimper the longer we kiss. He finally pulls back just enough to lay his forehead to mine, our labored breaths tangling between our lips.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I smile up at him and settle my hands on his shoulders.
“Keep kissing me like that and we won’t even make it to the plane.”
My cheeks warm as his words and our surroundings—the two watching, waiting men—sink in.
“You’re in trouble,” I tell him as sternly as I can feeling this turned on. “Nobody rearranges me.”
“I did.” He takes the handle of my suitcase from the driver, and pulls it toward the idling plane. “I mean, with the help of Kimba of course.”
“I have to be in Ohio for a meeting at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” I say, trying to hold on to my sense of humor and adventure.
“And you will.” He takes my hand.
I squeeze his fingers and decide to enjoy myself. “Where are we going, Doc?”
“On a date,” he says, the boyish grin that unravels my heartstrings in evidence.
“I said where, not what, though thank you for telling me we’re going on a date. Some guys just ask, which is so boring.”
“Who are these guys who’ve had you making all those pesky choices about where you’ll go