Page 66 of Capitally Engaged

I laughed. “Not dead. We put in the contract I could continue publishing paranormal independently. So don’t worry, you’ll get your alien romance.”

“And if your alien senator happens to look like a senator we love to hate, I won’t be the one to tell him.”

I sipped my drink conspiratorially. There was no telling where inspiration would strike.

Preston rejoined us, slipping his arm around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.

“What are we talking about, ladies?”

“Aliens, romance, senators. The usual,” I answered, gazing up at his handsome face.

“Ah, your books then.” Preston smiled knowingly. Having someone to brainstorm with in person was new, but we were having a lot of fun, too.

Laurel covered the ear not wearing an electronic contraption and tapped the earpiece, listening closely.

“Gotta go. Alien senator, I mean Senator Marsden, wants his dinner before the polls close. And then he wants to see you, Preston, to go over the speeches one last time.” She took offlike a shot, dodging people effortlessly, brushing no one in the crowded room.

“Speeches? I thought you only wrote the victory speech?” I looked up at Preston.

“I did.” He looked back at me with that eyebrow waggle I loved so much. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

I laughed, clasping Preston’s hand around my waist with my free one. “He’s going to be so mad.”

“Nah, I’ll just tell him I knew he wasn’t going to lose. It’ll pump up his ego. Besides, what’s he going to do, fire me?”

I turned and looked him in the eyes, my tone more serious. “How are you? Last speech before it’s your turn. You’ve avoided the question every time I’ve asked for the last week.”

He smiled softly at me. “Earlier this week, I didn’t have an answer for you. Tonight? I’m okay. I’m ready for whatever comes next.”

I stepped into Preston’s arms, stretching up on my tiptoes for a light peck before pulling back to meet his eyes.

“That makes two of us.”

Epilogue

Preston

TWO YEARS LATER

What a week. We knew when Jax’s publisher picked the first of November as her book’s pub date in an election year, we would be running ourselves ragged. Now that the week had arrived, we were operating mostly on adrenaline and caffeine. I rushed across Salem from a campaign event ahead of the school board meeting to Toil and Trouble Books, who was playing host to Jax’s launch event.

I looked at my watch and swore, glancing up at the immobile traffic to clear. Halloween was over. Why were there still so many people in town?

“You can just let me out here,” I said to the rideshare driver.

“Whatever you need, sir,” he responded, turning his four-way flashers on.

“Thanks,” I said, sliding out of the car and squeezing between two parked cars to hit the sidewalk. Walking briskly the final fewblocks, I stopped outside the store to wipe the sweat gathered there despite the cool New England fall air. After cleaning off the glasses I tried to protest I hadn’t needed, but did make life so much easier, I took a peek inside the window. A huge smile broke out on my face. The store was packed. And Jax thought no one would show up.

I opened the door and showed my ticket to the employee scanning them just inside. Jax tried to insist I didn’t need a ticket. She would put me on a list. Why she thought I wouldn’t take every opportunity to support her opening week numbers was beyond me. That’s my girl, that’s my lady, and I’m proud of that.

Charlotte waved to me from the front row and indicated the empty seat next to her. I weaved through the crowd to embrace my sister-in-law to be.

“Can you believe this crowd?” she squealed, her face expressing pure glee at the book loving community gathered around. “And she thought no one would come.”

“That’s what I said,” I said, laughing. “How’s she doing? Nervous? Did she get my tea delivery?”

Charlotte nodded. “She did. I caught her swooning a little bit when she realized you ordered it ahead. But I’m sure she’d deny it if I called her on it.”

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