Page 72 of Where There's Smoke

I glanced at Jesse, and we both quickly broke eye contact. One long-awaited night together, and now two grown men were reduced to awkward teenagers who couldn’t be left alone without getting uncomfortable. Maybe last nighthadbeen a bad idea. Of course it hadn’t been a wise one and we’d both known that, but a mistake?

“Jesse.” When he looked at me, I inclined my head and lowered my voice. “Are you okay with everything? After…” My gaze darted to the left, then right, before I looked at him again. “After last night?”

Jesse dropped his gaze and swallowed. “Are you?”

Was I? No, I really wasn’t. Not if I was honest with myself. Any other time in my life, this would be perfect, but the guilt and the secrecy…

I exhaled hard and forced myself to look him in the eye. “I’m not really sure, to be honest.”

“Neither am I. Anthony, I’m sorry. I…can’t do this.”

My heart stopped. It wasn’t like this was any great shock, but the words sent a ripple of a fight-or-flight-type panic that almost had me reaching for him in spite of our visibility and even while I couldn’t deny I was seriously relieved he’d beaten me to the punch.

Jesse went on. “We can’t. As much as I want to, I’m sorry. I want to. Believe me, I do. But with everything…”

“I understand. You’re not the only one feeling the pressure here.” Any kind of relationship was a bad idea, but I wanted him. I’d had a taste, and every argument against it be damned, I wanted more. But he was right.

“Still,” he said. “I feel like an ass for—”

“Jesse.” I was tempted to put a reassuring hand on his arm, but I didn’t dare make even the most platonic contact. Just having this conversation with people nearby was dangerous enough. “Listen,” I said, almost whispering. “We’re in this campaign until November. We’re working together whether we like it or not. Maybe it’ll be easier if we just call it quits for the time being, and when the election and divorce are over, then…” I let a one-shouldered shrug finish the thought.

“I don’t know if ‘easier’ is the word I’d use.”

I laughed softly. “Yeah, no kidding. But you know what I mean.”

Jesse nodded.

“Now let’s get out there,” I said. “Your public awaits.”

We exchanged halfhearted, uncertain smiles before walking across the parking lot to meet the owner of the winery.

This was for the best. There were no other options. It sucked, but it was the way things needed to be and it would make the rest of this campaign easier on everyone involved.

Easier. Yeah.

Something like that.

I thought concentrating was difficult when I wanted to sleep with Jesse, but that was nothing compared to after I’d slept with him. Especially when we weren’t sleeping together again, now or in the foreseeable future, nor would we beapartanytime soon. Events, rallies, dinners, speeches, traveling; every waking hour was spent in each other’s hair and in each other’s way. The tension was as undeniable as we were unavoidable, and his presence teased my senses like the mouthwatering scent of a cigarette whenever I tried to quit smoking.

You’re acting like a lovesick kid. A hormonal one, anyway. Get a grip, Hunter. This campaign won’t run itself.

It certainly wouldn’t run itself, and no matter how insane Jesse drove me, I still had to keep his campaign on the rails.

About two weeks after we’d put a stop to things, while we were on the road—when weren’t we on the damned road?—Jesse had another private dinner with his family at some glitzy restaurant. Since he was mercifully absent for a few hours, about a dozen staffers and I congregated in my hotel room for a campaign strategy meeting.

As everyone wandered into my room, pulling up chairs or sitting on beds, I stopped Greg, one of the unpaid staffers, out in the hall. I handed him a FedEx envelope and some cash. “I need you to make a run downtown. Drop this off at one of the all-night shipping places. Overnight service.”

He scowled and his momentary pause suggested he was about to protest, but then he took the envelope. With a muttered curse I probably wasn’t supposed to hear, he turned and left. As he stormed down the hall, he brushed past Ranya, who threw a puzzled glance over her shoulder as the disgruntled college kid left.

“What’s his damage?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Doesn’t like doing bitch errands.”

“Who does?” She eyed me. “Course, he does seem to get the lion’s share of them. Can’t imagine why he might be a little annoyed.”

“Yeah, well…” I glanced around, making sure we were alone. Then I took her out into the hall and pulled the door shut behind us so the staffers in my room wouldn’t overhear us. Gesturing for her to come closer, I lowered my voice. “Listen, we need to keep an eye on him.” I nodded in the direction Greg had gone. “Lydia’s already aware of what’s going on, and I want you in on it too.”

Her eyes widened. “Okay, what’s up?”

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