Page 116 of Tempting God

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Greer

***Two months later**

Grant enters the room, leaning against the doorway. He’s wearing his inauguration suit and looks so dapper. The pocket square of his jacket and his tie match my green dress. I stand, touching the American flag pin on his jacket lapel.

“You look handsome, husband.”

“As do you, wife.” He smiles down at me. “Are you ready to do this?”

“I am, Mr. President.”

His eyes darken. “Fuck. Don’t call me that, otherwise I’m going to be sporting a boner while I’m sworn in as President of the United States.”

I laugh, rubbing my rounded stomach. Baby Carter isn’t due for another week, but my doctor and her team are here with us in DC. There’s a chance I could go into labor today and we’re covering all our bases. I mean, this might become the most memorable Presidential inauguration in history if I go into labor.

Hand-in-hand, we make our way outside. The crowds cheer for us as we get into the SUV that will take us to the US Capitol building. Grant doesn’t let go of my hand the entire time.

When he kisses me before the swearing-in ceremony begins, the crowd loses their minds, making both of us laugh.

“I think that’s a good sign for your presidency,” I say.

Five long hours later, we’re in our bedroom of the White House.

Grant says as he rubs my aching feet, “Somya texted and said the inauguration speech is the highest rated speech in twenty years.”

“I’m not surprised. I was bawling like a baby. Heck, I think everyone was.”

Grant smiles. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Well, you could have, but it wouldn’t have had the same flair.”

“Indeed.”

“How early do you have to get up in the morning?”

“Four. You?”

I grin. “I get to sleep in until eight. I’m on maternity leave and they said they’re keeping my schedule light until the baby is born.”

“And how is our sweet baby? I noticed you were rubbing your back a lot after dinner.”

After the swearing-in and speech, Grant and I went to the signing ceremony. After that, we went to the inaugural luncheon that we hosted. Grant and his VP went to the East Front steps of the Capitol, where they reviewed the military troops. He rejoined me and our guest and we watched the parade as it passed in front of the Presidential reviewing stand. I’ve never felt so patriotic.

Our last official event of the evening was not known to the public and took place in a ballroom inside of the White House. The Elite Members joined us for a dinner, celebrating Grant’s success.

I answer Grant, “It was just a busy day, but it’s better now that we’re in bed.”

I don’t dare mention that there’s an ache in my lower back that hasn’t gone away all day.

I say, “There is something you could do to make my day even better, though.”

“Oh?”

“Open your nightstand.”

He gives me a long look before reaching over, opening the top drawer of his nightstand. He lifts the lid of the black box and then coughs out a laugh.

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