"Red, why didn't you say something?"
I shrugged. "I was just trying to do the right thing." Then something occurred to me. "Do you still want to get married in the church? Or raise our kids Catholic? Because if that's important to you...I'll finish it. I was only ever doing it for you, anyway."
Brandon sighed, but still didn't wipe the smile off his face as he sat up completely. "Skylar, I don't give a shit what religion you are or aren't. You could be a Wiccan with a pentagram tattooed across your forehead, and I'd still want to marry you tomorrow," he said.
I rolled my eyes, but grinned anyway.
"Seriously," he said. "I'll have Margie call Father Garrett and tell him that you've had a change of heart. I'll tell him I'd rather marry an agnostic sort-of-not-really Jewish woman. I'm sure with the generous donation I made to the church, he really won't care whether or not you finish catechism."
I snorted. "I'll call him," I said. "It's the least I can do after making the man sit for hours with me in his office every week."
"I doubt it was a hardship," Brandon said as he leaned back in the pillows, pulling me down with him. "I doubt he gets many excuses to look at beautiful women."
I snorted, but let the joke fall between us.
"So, what do you want, Red?" Brandon asked before he pressed a quick, sweet kiss to my forehead. "No campaign. No conversion. We found our house. We're going to get married like the heathens we are. What happens after that?"
I closed my eyes, inhaling his warm, sweet smell.
"I don't know," I said finally, after he'd kissed both cheeks and my mouth again. "I think I just want to...be for a while. Is that okay?"
Brandon leaned in and kissed me full on the mouth, a long, tender kiss that meandered and wove a spell with lips and tongue. When he finally pulled away, I felt like I was floating a foot off the bed, even though I was still trapped in his arms.
"Being with you," he mumbled, "sounds fucking perfect."
He was just starting to kiss me again when suddenly there was a loud rap on the hotel room door.
Brandon jerked up. "What the..."
"Brandon! Open the fucking door, man!"
"Is that Cory?" I asked with disbelief. "What, does that guy have super-human radar? You literally just decided you were going to bow out."
Brandon shrugged, his big shoulders rippling. He pushed himself off the bed and threw on a t-shirt over his boxer-briefs before answering the door.
Cory blasted into the room with the turmoil of a hurricane.
"When I tell you to keep your phone on, that doesn't mean turn it off at five o-fucking-clock, man!" he yelled as he walked in.
I pulled Brandon's white button-down over my chemise while I got up from the bed. My nightgown was modest, but the thin material didn't leave much to the imagination. I wasn't interested in watching Cory's eyes drift while I told him where to shove it.
Brandon just watched his campaign manager pace the room with an exhausted expression "We were a little busy. I told you I would call you when we got back to Boston tomorrow morning."
"Yeah, well. That's not fuckin' up to you, is it?" Cory retorted as he whirled around, causing his tie to smack him in the face.
I frowned at him with disgust. It was eleven o'clock at night. Did this guy ever go anywhere without being dressed in a full suit?
"What are you doing here, Cory?" Brandon asked. I glanced at him, but he shook his head slightly. I understood––he didn't want to break the news of his defection tonight.
I bit my lip and looked down, knowing everything I thought generally showed on my face.
"What am I doing here?" Cory repeated, spittle flying. "Tracking down my rogue fuckin' candidate for one. You'll 'call tomorrow,' huh? After you've already taken three more days off during primary season? A day before you're giving the most important speech of the campaign?"
"You say that about every speech, Cory," Brandon said irritably. "Tomorrow is just a photo-op at the Children's hospital, not a televised debate."
"Goddammit, Brandon, that's just it! Every event is important. And I've had it, man! I'm tired of being your babysitter, tracking you down for every goddamn thing when you get distracted by your little sidepiece! It's fuckin' ridiculous! You two are fuckin'ridiculous!"
"Cory!" Brandon thundered. "Stop!"