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The shirt wasn’t tucked in and it stretched tight across his wide shoulders, while fitting loosely at his waist. She glimpsed a wide black belt with a silver buckle when he moved. He had worn a jacket and she’d seen a holster under his arm when he’d leaned against the door jamb. His hair was slightly tousled, as though he’d run his fingers through it, and his jaw bore the stubble of a relaxed, no-shave Saturday.
Her stomach had done triple somersaults and it had taken all of her will not to let him see how he affected her. Not only did he not need the ego boost, he also didn’t need the encouragement.
The car put them in too close of quarters. His presence filled the space between them, magnetic and smelling like him. Her eyes kept drifting to his hands on the steering wheel. His large, capable, and somehow erotic hands.
Anne quickly shifted her gaze and it landed on his thigh. His very muscular, denim-clad thigh that was inches from her fingers if she wanted to touch him…
She caught herself. Obviously, it had been too long of a dry spell in her sex life. He’d said something. What had he said? Oh. Problems.
“Thanks, but still. A lot of people would like to have my kind of problems, including the people I try to help.”
There was a pause, then he asked, “Why is it you’re so adamantly opposed to dating me? I’m a gentleman. I have a steady job, though that’s up for debate every few years. I’ve been told I’m easy on the eyes.”
He flashed her another grin and Anne snapped a mental picture, he looked so good. Whoever had told him he was “easy on the eyes” was grossly understating the point.
“Politics aren’t my thing,” she admitted, “much less enduring the scrutiny that comes with not only senatorial campaigns, but a presidential one. Sorry, but your career choice is a no-go for me.” Amid his other illegal activities.
“Some would say adversity only makes a couple stronger.”
“Spoken, no doubt, by someone with little experience of adversity,” she retorted.
“You’re cynical for one so young.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “I grew up in New York and D.C, not the middle of Indiana.”
“Point taken.”
“Where did you grow up?” she asked.
He turned, his eyes laughing at her. “The middle of Indiana.”
Open mouth, insert foot. “Oh. Sorry.” A thought occurred to her. “Wait, you represent Massachusetts.”
“Did you Google me?” he teased.
Now her face was flaming hot. He must’ve decided to have mercy on her because he didn’t wait for a reply.
“My uncle was the senator from Massachusetts for a long time. I changed residencies when he died and took over his seat by special appointment by the governor, then ran for the seat myself.”
“Had you planned on it being a stepping-stone to the presidency?”
Blane shook his head. “No, but I see where this country is headed, and I don’t like it. Rather than just complain about it, I thought I’d do something. No more powerful job on the planet than President of the United States.”
“There hasn’t been a bachelor president since…when?...Grover Cleveland, I think. Doesn’t that worry you?”
“Look at you, full of useless knowledge. You’ll have to be my partner on trivia night.”
Anne shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Besides, that’ll be the question everyone asks. Right before ‘Are you gay?’”
He laughed out loud and Anne smiled, too, enjoying the full, rich sound of his laughter. She felt absurdly pleased that she’d made him laugh. Somehow, she had the feeling that he didn’t laugh much, though she had no idea where she’d gotten that thought.
“I can assure you that I am not gay,” he said at last. “Close to matrimony once, but it didn’t take.”
“What happened?”
His smile faded and his gaze remained on the road as he answered. “She fell in love with someone else.”
Oh. Oh wow. That sounded…horrible. “I’m so sorry.”
