Page 4 of Bodyman

CHAPTER SIX

GARNER

It wasn’t the first time I’d felt this incredible, thick tension crackle between the two of us. I remembered the night of my first inauguration when I’d awoken to see him carefully removing my shoes. He’d always been a gentle giant, but seeing him folded up at my feet, taking special care not to wake me, had reminded me just how sweet he could be.

Not once had he balked at being my personal aide, at having to deal with small, demeaning, or petty jobs, and he’d always done it with a respectful acceptance. Sometimes it had even seemed like an honor, like having to remove dirty lunch dishes from the corner of my desk was laudable and virtuous.

Kenan never acted like he was beneath the job.

Two months into my first term, he’d been standing behind me in the Situation Room while I’d been in tense discussions with several foreign governments over a piracy issue in the Gulf of Aden. I’d caught a terrible cold, and Kenan’s job was to be on hand to make sure I had tissues, cough drops, remembered to take my medicine, etc.

Although he obviously hadn’t been in uniform, one of the high-ranking military members in the meeting had recognized him when he’d entered the room after a break. Rear Admiral Acosta hadn’t realized I was entering the room behind him after a quick trip to the men’s room.

“Commander Harper,” he’d said with a smirk. “I’d heard you’d taken a role here at the White House, but I didn’t realize it was as an errand boy. Is that truly what you left the Navy for?”

Kenan had looked the man up and down before calmly addressing him. “Admiral Acosta, sir. Good to see you. In answer to your question, no. It isn’t what I left the Navy for, but it is my utmost honor to serve this president in any way that makes his job to our nation run more smoothly. I would imagine you feel the same way. Sir.”

I’d bit my lip against a smile. He’d looked so stoic, so completely unruffled, that I’d wanted to kiss him full on the lips just to see if I could get the man’s incessant neutral expression to crack.

The rear admiral had muttered something that sounded like reluctant agreement, and then I’d clapped the man on the shoulder.

“Appreciate it, Admiral Acosta. I’m happy to take all the help I can get.”

Instead of coughing my germs into his face like I’d wanted, I’d stepped back and moved closer to Kenan before lowering my voice just enough that it sounded private, but Rear Admiral Acosta could still hear me. “Commander Harper, someone from the NSA is going to deliver that global cryptography report later today. I told them to make sure it’s delivered directly to you. I’d like to review it this evening after dinner, and I’d like your expertise if you don’t mind.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

His eyes sparkled, and a muscle had flexed in his jaw, which had been the closest he came to expressing emotion in a room filled with important people.

It hadn’t been much, but I’d hoped it had been a reminder to this military blowhard that Commander Kenan Harper was more than a lackey. He’d been a highly respected cryptologic warfare officer in the US Navy. And he was now one of the men seated closest to the top of the US military.

Commander Kenan Harper had the ear and trust of the president of the United States.

But sometimes I got the feeling he would have been happy enough simply being Garner Ashley’s errand boy.

CHAPTER SEVEN

KENAN

I could see memories flashing across Garner’s face. With him this close, I wondered if he, like me, remembered all the times we’d touched.

The times we’d gotten close over the previous four and a half years were imprinted on my brain. Imprinted on my skin.

I’d pulled his suit coat on and off countless times, trailing my fingertips over the warmth of his body through his shirt. I’d even tweezed two rogue eyebrow hairs right before he was scheduled for a sit-down interview with a well-known reporter. The show’s hair and makeup process would take place in front of too many people, so the president had pulled me aside with a frantic plea for help in his private washroom.

I remembered stepping between his knees as he’d sat on the toilet lid looking up at me. The way the warm, dim lighting had caught in his hair and the way his Armani aftershave had mixed with his Harry’s Redwood deodorant to make a scent purely his own.

It had filled the small space and seeped into my skin as I’d reached out with my left hand to cup the back of his head. “Hold still,” I’d murmured as I leaned in closer to identify the hairs in question.

“Getting old,” he’d muttered. “Like one of those old men whose eyebrows take on a life of their own.”

I’d huffed out a laugh. “Yes. Geezer President. The absolute geezeriest.”

Once I had the tweezer tips in just the right spot to pluck the first one, I hesitated for a microsecond. Causing this man pain, even the quickest, most insignificant pain like a plucked eyebrow, wasn’t easy for me.

“Commander?”

“Mm,” I’d said before clearing my throat and yanking the hair. I quickly placed my thumb over the spot and pressed in.

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