Page 43 of Where There's Smoke

Anthony closed the notebook and glanced at his watch. “They’ll be finishing in baggage claim right about now.” Our eyes met, and he smiled. “I’m assuming you’ll be all right going out there?”

I laughed. “Yes. Thanks.”

He winked and sat back against the seat. “Glad to help.”

Now that I was calmed down and presentable to appear in public, I stepped out of the limo. My private security had followed in another vehicle—limos were roomy, but goddamn, they could get crowded with a couple of burly security guards—and followed me into the airport.

The instant the double doors opened, I found her. Not that it was difficult with a large crowd trying to get close to her, and her towering bodyguard was pretty tough to miss.

Simone grinned and stepped out of the crowd. She threw her arms around me. We embraced and made damn sure that any camera in the vicinity—and there were always a few—got a shot of us kissing like happily married spouses ought to kiss when they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of weeks. Deep, passionate, punctuated by the pause to look into each other’s eyes and smile before going back for more.

She pulled back, and twin creases formed between her eyebrows as she ran her tongue across the inside of her lip. Her eyes darted toward the limo, and the corners of her mouth pulled up with tired amusement.

“What?” I asked.

Laughing softly, she shook her head and slipped her hand into mine. “Nothing. Should we get out of here?”

“By all means.”

We picked up Simone’s luggage and went out to the waiting limo. While the driver put everything in the trunk, my security guys got into their car and Simone, Dean, and I slid into the limo.

“Anthony,” she said with a stiff nod as we all settled in. “Good to see you.” Whatever amusement had been in her expression a moment ago was long gone.

Anthony smiled just as stiffly. “You too.”

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Simone asked, notes of both impatience and irritation in her voice.

Anthony folded his hands on his knee as the limo lurched into motion. “Besides a hell of a lot of hurry up and wait? First things first, you’re both appearing at a luncheon for the San Joaquin Democratic group.”

As he continued through the itinerary for the next few days leading up to the primary election, I tried not to look at either of them. Her involvement with the campaign had been reasonably light so far; she’d been tied up with promoting her film and had a break from that for the next few weeks. That meant she was free to be more visible on the campaign tour. Up until now, she’d gone to key events with me so we could put on a happy, united front, but she’d had to forego Anthony’s plan of grassroots campaigning—by herself and with me—until she’d fulfilled her contractual obligations for the film.

The limo took us to the obscenely ostentatious luxury hotel where I’d checked in earlier. How it took so many people to get one couple into their room, I’d never understand, but between security and hotel personnel, I swore we had a hundred people running in and out of the room Simone and I shared.

And just like that, they were gone.

All of them.

Except us.

Simone and I stood in silence—awkward, unending silence—and stared at the bed. Theonlybed.

“It’s all about appearances,”Anthony had said this morning with an apologetic shrug after he’d told me about our accommodations.“Housekeeping leaks a rumor that you two left two beds rumpled, suddenly you’re sleeping apart and there’s trouble in paradise.”

Great. Just what we needed. Simone and I hadn’t shared a bed in the better part of a year, and I was sure the months leading up to my confession that I was gay hadn’t been this awkward or uncomfortable. They were hellish in their own right, of course. For those endless months, it was the constant fear—one that was sometimes realized—that Simone would want us to be intimate.

Tonight? Oh, tonight was a very different story. I knew she wouldn’t reach for me. She’d probably sleep as close as she could get to the edge of the bed, just like I’d sleep as close as I could to the opposite edge.

But this time, there’d be someone on my mind. The second the lights went off, Anthony would be at the forefront of my mind, and even now, my pulse soared just knowing he’d be a few doors away. Sleeping alone. Maybe lying awake and—

No, best not to think about that now.

I looked around the room. The sofa was probably hard as a rock and would be just short enough to prevent me from sleeping comfortably, but it looked more inviting than any piece of furniture ever had.

“I’ll, um…” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “I can sleep on the couch.”

“You don’t think that’ll kick up rumors?” She folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself like she couldn’t quite get warm. “If the maids think we slept separately?”

I blew out a breath. “It probably will. Fuck, I don’t even care. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

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