“Yeah, thanks.” Ash grins, a knowing glint in his eye. “A free lunch. You’ll have to join us more often, Rayne.”
She smiles innocently.
We settle on a nearby park bench beneath a tree with sprawling branches providing shade from the sun. Luna sits between us. Her floral scent carries in the warm breeze, her thigh brushing mine through the fabric of our pants. Neither of us shifts away, greedily taking whatever little physical contact we can get.
For twenty minutes, we exist together outside our bubble. Ash inadvertently gives us the perfect cover. It’s not suspicious this way, just a casual lunch between two opposing camps. Easy to spin if it hits the rumor mill or social media. We don’t discussthe election. Ash leads most of the conversation while Luna and I absorb the closeness.
When my phone rings, I’m tempted to ignore it. I don’t want to move. Don’t want to give up these stolen minutes. But the ringtone belongs to Diablo.
“Excuse me,” I say, standing up. The loss of her warmth against my side is immediate. I step away from the bench and answer. “Hey, Gabriel. What’s up?”
“We need to meet. Now.”
I’m used to panicked candidates. A tracking poll drops two points and the world is on fire. “Sure. Want to give me some prep before I head over?”
“I just got an anonymous email.”
My stomach sinks to the ground.
“It’s big, Dakarai. Huge.”
Every muscle in my body locks up tight.
“It’s about Rayne.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Rayne
Anika corners me in my office the moment I return. She shuts the door firmly at her back. Her hands aren’t on her hips, but her tone sounds like they are. “Brielle said you had lunch with Dakarai.”
“I had lunch with Ash and Dakarai.”
“You had lunch with Ash and Diablo’s chief strategist,” she corrects. “Who also happens to be your secret lover. Jesus, Ray, are you trying to wave a red flag in front of the press?”
“You’re getting worked up over nothing. There were no reporters. It was twenty minutes in broad daylight with a man I’ve known since I was a kid providing a buffer. It’s not like we were hooking up in the alley behind our offices.”
“Lawrd, please tell me you haven’t done that.”
“We’re always careful.”
“That doesn’t sound like a no.”
“It was a safe, innocent lunch,” I assure her, even as my pulse remembers it differently. I got to smell his cologne, touch him, breathe the very same air. For twenty glorious minutes, we sathip to hip, the crisp sleeve of his shirt sliding against my bare arm every time he lifted his hand for a bite of his sandwich.
Anika snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Stop that.”
“What?”
“Daydreaming about him.”
“I wasn’t?—”
“You totally were. Eyes all glazed, smile all stupid.”
“My smile isn’t stupid.”
“Stand on this side of the desk and tell me that.”
