of the time, since we sleep in different bedrooms, I’ve been able to easily dodge her.
Stan sips his drink. “If you found more time in your schedule, I’m certain more doors would open to you,” he quietly says.
“I’m hoping my next term will allow me that kind of freedom. Right now, I’m a little overwhelmed by everything, including people telling me I need to start thinking about re-election, even though that’s five years away.”
“Re-election wouldn’t be a problem for you, with the right connections.”
“I’m certain it wouldn’t, but…” I shrug, offering a smile. “I have faith,” I lamely offer. “I also have a very…involved father-in-law riding my ass about grandbabies,” I whisper, shrugging again.
He laughs, relieving me as he claps me on the shoulder. “I have one of those, too. Totally understand. I’ve heard your father can be a piece of work, too.”
God, I wish I had a drink in my hand right now, but I’m driving. “He absolutely can. Double the fun, right?”
I nearly jump out of my skin at Daniel’s voice at my left shoulder. “Well, hello, Senator Callahan. Senator Jergens.” I turn to look into his blue eyes and hope my jacket is hiding my erection. “Senator Callahan, my husband reminded me on the ride over that you co-sponsored a bill with him that’s the partner of the one my congressman co-sponsored, which is going to Conference Committee soon.”
I swallow hard as I nod. “Yes.”
“Congressman Effings unfortunately couldn’t make it tonight, but would it be possible to steal a few minutes of your time at some point? He had some notes he wanted me to pass to you.”
So that’s how he’s playing it. Brilliant. “Absolutely.”
Stan laughs. “Feel free to take all the time you need. Elsbeth will have your wife tied up most of the night now. She’ll be introducing her around to everyone else.”
I turn a little more toward Daniel and that’s when I spot Liam on the other side of the room. He has a drink in his hand and while he’s talking to a senior Senate staffer, his dark gaze possessively lays on both of us.
Especially me.
If it were up to him, we’d all three be tangled together in a bed right now, with the two of them plowing me at both ends.
An option that simultaneously fills me with longing and the good kind of terror.
Also fills me with crushing grief, because unless or until I can easily get rid of Olivia, it’s not likely to be an option anytime soon. Not for an overnighter, anyway. We can fuck around during a couple of hours here and there, but it’s never as satisfying as falling asleep with my two men wrapped around me.
Asking Olivia for a divorce on the ride home tonight would be…downright gauche, wouldn’t it?
It would likely piss her off even more on the heels of her finally passing through the gates of the elusive group she’s been dying to make inroads into ever since our arrival here in DC.
One Daniel told me just a couple of weeks ago that he wants me to infiltrate as a spy.
Chapter Two
Then
I hate this church.
I don’t mean I’m not partial to it, or that I dislike it, or that it’s not my preferred church.
When I say I hate this church, I mean that I loathe it with the heat of a thousand stars combined.
I never realized exactly how much I resented the flavor of Georgia-bred rabid Evangelical prosperity-gospel Christianity I was raised in until Olivia decided we’d start attending her family’s church. Which is, of course, the church where her parents and my father met.
My parents started attending this church after I left for college, so it wasn’t “my” church growing up. Although I hated that one, too.
She thinks the reason I’m “not fond” of this church is the forty-five-plus minute drive to get here from our house. That’s if there’s no traffic. If there’s traffic, or an accident, it can easily take us ninety minutes or longer.
No, the main reason I despise it is that I hate the homophobic, race-baiting, science-denying sonofabitch standing in the pulpit, and all the sheeple in the congregation who blithely nod their heads and agree with every word he says.
Including Olivia’s parents, siblings, and in-laws.
And I hate that it’s a massive megachurch, with a pastor who reminds me more of a slimy car salesman than a preacher interested in the lives of his parishioners. I looked up the dude’s house.
He lives in a fricking mansion. A literal mansion. I