Page 97 of Where There's Smoke

“You…could say that.”

He watched me for a moment, eyebrows up. Then he sighed dramatically. “Fine. Apparently I have to drag details out of you. Is it serious?”

“Serious?” I laughed, wondering when my mouth had gone dry, and picked up my beer. “I…um…”

“Oh, God in heaven.” He grinned and swirled his drink like a glass of wine. “You’re not in love, are you?”

I laughed again, though it took a hell of a lot more effort this time. “No, no, nothing like that.”

“Okay, then what is it like?” He inclined his head. “And don’t even try to bullshit me, Anthony Hunter. Iknowyou, and not just in the Biblical sense.”

I glanced around the room, certain everyone within a five-mile radius had heard the comment. “Must you?” I growled.

“Yes.” He set his glass on the table and folded his arms behind it. “Now spill the deets or I’ll say it even louder.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, you know that?”

“I should certainly hope not,” he said. “Come on. Tell me. How ‘not serious’ is this?”

“Well, I mean…it’s…”I know how to talk. I swear I do.“How serious can it be when I’m not out to most of the people in my life?”

Slade shrugged, letting his gaze drift around the room. “Depends. I can’t imagine not being out, but if I had some reason to be closeted, and some guy came along who I wanted to be with no matter what anyone, including myself, thought…” Another shrug and he slid his gaze back to meet mine. “Then I suppose I could make do.”

I swallowed.

“So.” He tilted his head. “How serious is it?”

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.Well, Anthony?

“Okay, okay.” Slade patted the table with his palm. “Easier question. We’ll work up to that.” He winked, and I had no doubt he fully intended to get that answer out of me before happy hour was over. “What made you want him in the first place?”

“And you think that’s an easier question?”

He laughed. “Well, you’re so methodical and precise about everything. I figured you could nail down the exact moment you realized you wanted to, well, nail him down, and the exact reason. Every man you’ve ever dated, you’ve been all ‘I saw him at whatever club, and he had those jeans on, and I knew I had to have him’ or ‘he said he liked whatever god-awful band, and that was all she wrote.’ So I’m assuming our mystery lad had a similar moment?”

Goddamn it, this man knew me entirely too well. Chewing my lip, I ran through how things had started out with Jesse. Was there a moment like that? When the light came on and I justknew? Maybe when I watched him and Simone during the photo shoot and interview? When we talked for the first time? During his press conference? Of course I’d realized I wanted him during each of those moments. Or that I was strongly attracted to him, anyway. But it was never a surprise. Never a startling moment of clarity when truth smacked me upside the head and told me something I didn’t know. Each of those moments just reinforced something that was already there, like my desire for Jesse was, even before I was consciously aware of it, innate.

I stared at the table between us, resisting the urge to drum my fingers. “It’s funny, I really can’t remember.” I looked at Slade through my lashes. “It’s not like I can point to any one thing and say I want him because of this, or I want him because of that. I just…do. And have since the beginning.”

Slade blinked. “Wow, Anthony.”

“What?”

“I’ve known you a long, long time,” he said, “and I have never seen you smile like that while you’re talking about a man.” Before I could deny it, he added, “You’re practically swooning, mi amigo.”

“No, I’m not.” I paused. “Am I?”

He laughed and nodded. “Uh yeah. You so are.” He raised his glass in a mock toast. “Props to him, whoever he is. Any man who can tie you down during an election…” He finished the thought with a subtle tilt of his glass, then took a drink.

“Yeah, about that,” I muttered. “Dating during an election always works out so well.”Especially when I’m fucking thecandidateof all people.At that thought, the flicker of some sexy naked memory or another of Jesse sent a shiver down my spine.

“And yet,” Slade said, “here you are. Dating during an election.”

“No kidding.” I folded my arms on the table behind my beer bottle. “And you know, I keep thinking there’s a million reasons he and I shouldn’t be together—”

“God, you always were such a romantic, Anthony.”

I laughed. “Always a pessimist. You know me.”

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