Not wanting to monopolize too much of Miranda’s time, she excused herself and wound her way into the gardens. Well lit, it wasn’t as magnificent a view as it would be in the daytime, but it was, nevertheless, stunning, with fountains, butterfly and hummingbird gardens, and a lighted statuary amidst the foliage. She followed the statues, stopping at each one to marvel at their construction. These weren’t replicas of other famous statues. They appeared to have been sculpted just for Craig and Miranda. In fact, there was one of a couple entwined, staring at each other, that were mirror images of them. How romantic.
She wondered if Craig and Miranda would notice if she hid out here all night until sunrise.
“I suppose you want to have a big-ass garden in your huge backyard in your fantasy home someday, too?”
She turned to see Gray behind her. “I don’t need some fantastically large house.
Just a big tree for a tire swing. And okay, a nice-sized backyard for my currently nonexistent children that I hope to have someday.”
He stepped up to her. “Going to be hard to have all that and your epic career in the White House, too.”
She lifted her chin. “Why can’t I have both? Why do I have to choose?”
He looked taken aback and she realized she was letting her passion for this topic get the best of her. “Sorry. It’s a subject I’ve had some rather heated debates about.”
They had been walking through the garden and Gray led her to a bench overlooking a rather impressive fountain. She took a seat and he sat next to her.
“Hey, I was joking. But obviously someone told you that you couldn’t have a career and your fantasy husband, children, and house with the tire swing?”
“I was once told that I could choose my career track to the White House or a family, but I’d have to sacrifice one in order to have the other, and I’d have to choose.”
“Probably my father.”
“No. It wasn’t your father. It was someone else. A mentor whom I admired very much. And a woman. She told me I’d be great in political office, but I’d never be successful at it if I also wanted to have a family. It would stretch me too thin.”
He laid his arm over the back of the bench and stared at the dolphins spouting water out their mouths. “Frankly, I think that’s a crock of shit and seems like a very old-school way of thinking.”
She turned toward him. “Are you just feeding me a line?”
“No. There are plenty of congresswomen and senators with husbands and children, aren’t there?”
“Yes.”
“Then why couldn’t you have both?”
She looked down at her lap. “Honestly? Despite it being what I’d like, it really is a fantasy. I don’t see myself ever having a career in public office. I don’t have the background for it.”
“Bullshit, Evelyn. Where was that fire from a minute ago, when you said you wouldn’t settle for less than everything you wanted?”
She always did this, always vacillated between what she wanted and what she knew she’d likely never have. A poor girl with no roots, no established background, and no means didn’t—shouldn’t ever—have aspirations like she had.
But she did have those aspirations, wanted those things, and she couldn’t help herself.
“Tell me where you’re from,” he said, his voice soft as the darkness.
His tone eased some of her anxiety. She leaned back, the solid feel of his arm a comfort instead of a distraction.
“I’m from everywhere. My father did construction jobs, so we moved around a lot when I was a kid.”
“How much is a lot?”
She thought back. “Probably once a year at least. Sometimes more, depending on the work. It was important to him to always have a job so he could provide for the family, so we went wherever the work was.”
“Which was why you never had a house.”
She turned to face him. “Yes. There was no sense in putting down roots when we knew we’d have to pull them up and move on at a moment’s notice.”
He rubbed her back, his fingers trailing down her spine. She shivered.
“It must have been hard for you to do that.”
She shrugged. “It was an adventure, at least when I was younger. Seeing new cities and towns was fun. My teen years were more difficult. It’s harder to fit in and make friends when you get to high school and you’re in and out like that.”
“But you settled in at college?”
She smiled at the memory. “You have no idea what it was like to be able to spend that many years in one place. It gave me such a sense of peace and belonging. I formed friendships there that I’ll have for a lifetime.”
“See, that’s the kind of human interest stories that voters love. I can’t imagine you as anything other than a viable candidate, especially since you’ve put down roots in D.C., which I assume you have.”
“It’s where I’ve lived ever since I graduated college. I got my master’s degree at Georgetown, too.”
“Look at you. Already a lock for political office.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that, but I have goals. Pretty lofty ones.”
“So what do you want to do when you grow up?” he asked with a teasing smile.
“Seriously? I’d like to run for office. Start locally, then work my way up to a statewide office. Then . . . we’ll see. I don’t want there to be limitations.”
“Those are good goals to have. And you’re plenty young enough to see them through. Are you even thirty yet?”
“Not quite yet.”
“Lots of time to have everything you want, Evelyn. The career, the husband, the kids, and that house with the tire swing.”
She sighed and stared at the fountain. Gray was right. She could have it all. She had to continue to believe in herself. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For believing in the things you think I can do. You don’t even know me.” No one knew her. She did her job and did it well and efficiently. That’s how she ended up working for someone as high up the political ladder as Senator Preston. She had a social circle of friends who knew her, at least knew the Evelyn Hill she wanted them to know. But no one knew the child she had been, knew her dreams about the tire swing.
Now Gray knew. He was the last person she would have thought to tell that story to.
She figured him to be the silent, brooding, good-looking type, more about himself and his cars than interested in hearing about her life.
Yet here they sat in this garden while she had done all the talking. He asked all the right questions, made it easy for her to open up, something she so rarely did. Usually she was the one asking all the questions.
What a twist.
“Hey, are you two hiding and making out here? We’re about to set fire to my cake.
A lot of candles, you know.”
Gray stood and laughed at Craig, then he held out his hand for her.
“Wouldn’t miss that for the world,” Gray said, and he led her down the path toward the house.
SEVEN
THE CAKE WAS THREE TIERED, AND CRAIG WAS RIGHT, IT had been filled with candles—definitely more than thirty. It took him three tries to blow them all out. After everyone ate, they were led out a side door where a band had set up on the deck. People took seats around the deck and pool area where the band had started to play.
Gray led Evelyn to a cushioned love seat near the pool. They still had a great view of the band and the dance floor that had been created in front of the deck.
“In college, Craig always aspired to be a deejay,” Gray said. “And a singer. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got up and sang with the band tonight.”
One of the singers got up to jam a seriously cool hip-hop tune, one of her favorites.
She half turned to face him. “I can’t quite picture him belting out a song like that.”
“Oh, you might be surprised. He’s the Vanilla Ice of our generation.”
“Not Eminem?”
“Not even close.”
She laughed.
A slow R&B song came up, sung by a female member of the band with a voice as smooth as melted butter.
Gray stood and held out his hand. “Dance?”
She shouldn’t, but she loved the song and couldn’t resist. “I’d love to.”
He led her down the path from the pool toward the dance floor. When he pulled her against him, she couldn’t resist the thrill as her body met his.
It was innocent, just a dance and nothing more, and the only reason he was holding her in his arms. The patio was crowded with people and they weren’t alone. Other couples merged in very close to them, trying to find their own spots to dance. There was nothing intimate about this, and yet as Gray looked down at her, his fingers grazed up and down the bare skin of her back. Electricity sizzled between them, and as she met his gaze, and it suddenly occurred to her that it didn’t matter how many people surrounded them—the chemistry between them was as intimate as it could get.
There could be a thousand people dancing nearby and it would seem as if it were only the two of them. The music was slow and sinful, her pulse had kicked up, and Gray only looked at her.
She was grateful for the public venue, because the intent in his eyes was clear. And if he leaned in for a kiss, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to say no.
Fortunately, she was fairly certain he wouldn’t do that in this crowd of people. But suddenly he moved them through the crowd, maneuvering her away from the others to a side patio shielded from everyone else. It was a walkway leading from the backyard to the front, only no one was here.
No one but Gray and her.
He took a step forward, pressing her against the side of the house, the brick still retaining the day’s heat. Not that she needed it. Her body was already in flames, and as he bent and put his mouth on hers, she couldn’t muster up a single thing to say or do in resistance, because kissing Gray seemed as natural to her as breathing.
He brushed his lips across hers—a tease, maybe, or a test to see if she’d push him away. She had no intention of doing that. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened, and with his body flush against hers, the only thing she wanted to do now was deepen the kiss and explore. So when he did, pressing his mouth more firmly against hers, she sighed in contentment.
Evelyn lost herself in the sensations bombarding her. Gray’s mouth was pure heaven, his slow, drugging kisses slowing down time. She felt dizzy, swamped with a heavy fog of desire that enveloped her in a hazy cloud. Gray swept an arm around her back to tug her against him, his fingers dipping toward her butt. They were just resting there—he was being such a gentleman, when all she wanted was for him to grab her ass and draw her closer.
And what kind of sex-starved woman did that make her? Granted, it had been a long dry spell, but she worked for his father, and now they were making out in the dark at his friend’s house and she was mentally complaining that it wasn’t going fast enough?
If this kiss had been happening in her hotel room—or in his trailer—right now she’d be figuring out a way to get him out of his clothes. With her hands on his arms, she felt the flexing of his biceps. She knew he had a body and she longed to see it, to feel it, on top of her, inside her.
She shuddered and his fingers dipped lower, his tongue delving into her mouth at the same time he grabbed a handful of her ass and drew her against his erection.
Oh, yes.
He slid his lips from hers and pressed a kiss to the column of her throat, using his teeth to nip at her flesh. Goose bumps pricked her skin and she could imagine his mouth—his teeth—on other parts of her.
Oh, most definitely yes. She would have to get him naked, and her, too. She wondered if Craig and Miranda had an extra bedroom they wouldn’t mind them using.