The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,47
sit on the shower bench and set her on my lap. Greedy, thirsty, we kiss until my lips are numb, her fingers burrowing into my wet hair, my fingers tunneled into hers. I break the kiss, taking her face between my slick hands and searching her eyes.
“One day,” I remind her, panting.
She nods, sucking my bottom lip smiling. “One day.”
20
Lennix
“California?”
I glance over to Maxim in the driver’s seat, dragging my eyes from the panorama of vivid blue water and mosaic sky, streaks of pink, purple and orange painted through the clouds.
“I wanted to get far from D.C.,” he says, “but knew we didn’t have time to leave the country.”
“So we flew across it.”
“I know you. If I didn’t get far enough away, you’d cheat.”
“Do you honestly think I’m the workaholic in this relationship?”
“Oh, I’m indisputably a workaholic, but there are a few things I’ll drop everything for. You’re one of them.”
He did cancel his trip to Germany to be here this week, and he’s proven more than once that I’m his priority. The least I can do is show him I feel the same way, but I’m having a tough time turning my brain off. There’s so much to do for the campaign, and some disturbing news that broke right before we left D.C. keeps distracting me.
“Are you thinking about Middleton?” Maxim asks.
I turn surprised eyes his way at the uncanny guess. “Yeah, a little.”
The Arizona senator who brokered the back-room, last-minute deal with Warren Cade to sell my tribe’s land announced his candidacy, becoming the Republican frontrunner.
“You don’t actually think that idiot can beat Owen, do you?” Maxim quirks a skeptical brow.
“This country is a lot more conservative than you think if you only watch CNN and MSNBC all day.”
“I don’t have a problem with people being conservative. I just don’t like it when people are assholes, and from my experience, there are assholes on both sides of the aisle.”
A damn independent. Me, true blue, fell for a purple.
“Believe me, I’m well aware that you don’t consider yourself a Democrat,” I reply. “Regarding Middleton’s chances against Owen, I meant he may be a jerk, but a lot of people won’t care about that. They’ll just vote the party line, and there’s a lot more conservatives in this country than you think.”
“Say my party nominates an antique like Middleton who couldn’t lead me in a chorus of ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ much less lead this country,” Maxim says. “You think I’d vote for him simply because we’re registered to the same party? Bullshit.”
“Your views on the two-party system are well-documented and duly noted.”
“I don’t understand a nation that grew so powerful using capitalism, which is essentially about choice and options and hard work, being so lazy as to give us only two options, usually bad ones, in something as crucial as leading the free world.”
“God, you’re such a capitalist.”
“Never denied it, but back to my original point. I’m telling you, Middleton’s nothing to worry about. Owen’s the kind of guy voters cross party lines for.” His voice rings with conviction, and if I’m not mistaken, a note of pride.
“I love seeing that you and Owen have grown close. In Amsterdam, you seemed so disconnected from your family.”
“I was. My fight with my father was fresh. I never imagined it would last this long.”
“Do you think he’ll be conflicted if the Republicans put Middleton up?” I ask, frowning. It would look pretty bad if the candidate’s own father supported his opponent.
“Oh, hell no. He’s wanted a Cade in the White House since Owen took his first steps. Middleton was expeditious for that pipeline deal. My father has no ongoing relationship with him.”
I toy with the compass charm dangling from my bracelet. “You so rarely talk about your dad.”
“He’s not exactly your favorite person.”
“No, he’s not, but I don’t want you feeling like you can’t talk to me about him. I know you miss him. I’m sorry the animosity between him and me makes things even more awkward between the two of you.”
He doesn’t speak, but his fingers court mine in the space between us in the car, linking, caressing. “It’s not awkward for me that you and my dad don’t get along because I love you both, but I’ll always choose you.”
He’ll choose you, but he’ll need Dad, too.
I shift, angling my back against the car window so I can see him better.
“I’m not that college kid who couldn’t handle being with you because you were a Cade.”