Page 72 of State of Affairs (First Family 1)

“Yes, ma’am?”

She’d told him not to call her that, but hadn’t gotten anywhere with the handsome, earnest agent. “Is my Secret Service name still Fuzz?”

“No, ma’am. You’re FLOTUS now, and the president is POTUS.”

“Well, there’s one thing to celebrate about our change in status.” She hesitated before she said, “Can I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

“Is everyone pissed with me, or does it just seem that way?”

“I think ‘concerned’ is a better word.”

“I’m sorry I concerned you all. I heard we’re meeting Tuesday to figure this stuff out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Have a good night, Brant.”

“You do the same, ma’am.”

Sam went upstairs and looked in on Scotty, who was asleep with the lights and TV still on. She shut them off and tugged the comforter over him before taking advantage of the opportunity to run her fingers through his soft dark hair. Their little boy was becoming a young man too quickly. She bent to kiss his forehead and then went across the hall to check on the twins, who were curled up together as usual.

As she kissed them both, she experienced the kind of wild love she’d only ever felt for Nick and Scotty. She didn’t care who said otherwise. These kids were hers—hers and Nick’s and Scotty’s. Let anyone say otherwise. They knew the truth. Outside their room, she nodded to Darcy, an agent who’d been with them for a while.

She went into her closet, closed the door and took a deep breath as she changed into pajama pants and a T-shirt. When she was as ready as she’d ever be to deal with Nick’s wrath, she crossed the hall and went into their bedroom.

Nick was sitting up in bed, shirtless, a massive document on his lap.

Sam closed the door and stopped for a good look at her handsome, sexy husband.

“Whatcha staring at?” he asked without glancing up from what he was doing.

“The sexiest president I’ve ever seen.”

“Personally, I think Millard Fillmore was way sexier.”

Sam snorted out a laugh as the anxiety she’d been carrying for hours drained out of her in a single instant. That kind of anxiety belonged in her first marriage. Not this one. This one was as close to perfect as she’d ever hoped to achieve in this lifetime, and with one comment, he’d let her know that while he might be upset with what she’d done, he still loved her. That was one thing she could always count on, no matter what. “Fillmore had nothing on Cappuano with two p’s.”

After locking her weapon and cuffs into her bedside table, she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair. Then she smoothed on the vanilla-and-lavender lotion he loved so much. Even though she was relieved to realize they weren’t going to fight, she was under no illusions that she’d get away with what she’d done tonight. They were going to talk about it, and she was going to have to make some concessions. Just how many remained to be seen.

Sam went back to the bedroom and got into bed. “I heard the secretary is on the way home.”

“Yeah.”

She looked over at him. “How’d that go?”

“I’m not really sure,” he said, filling her in on how the incident had concluded.

“Holy shit. What do you think happened?”

“I wish I knew. Ruskin says it was a setup, but we have intelligence that suggests he might’ve gone along with it. We’ll know more when we can debrief him and the detail that traveled with him. Either way, it’s a huge relief that they’re safe and coming home. At least we won’t be going to war on my third day in office. I’d call that a win.”

Sam laughed at the sheer lunacy of that understatement. “Thank God it didn’t come to that.”

“You said it.”

“What’s that you’ve got there?” she asked of the book on his lap.

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