The World: According to Graham (32 page)

“The wedding was beautiful,” Aubrey gushes, and takes Holden’s hand. He looks at her with big, puppy-dog eyes. I know the look. He’s a man enamored.

Without looking in my direction, he replies, “It was.”

“Jesus Christ, you two are making me sick,” Max says, as his face twists in disgust. “You’re a politician, man. Have some dignity.”

“Oh wait! Politicians have no dignity.” Jake follows up, and we laugh like crazy.

Holden’s a good guy. I like him. He’ll be a good choice for our new pet project, if Rachael can just get the Aubrey problem under control.

I sip on a bourbon that someone was kind enough to grab from the bar for me, while we discuss the important things in life, like who’s going to win the Super Bowl, why my Orioles can’t seem to pull their heads out their asses, and of course, the next UFC fight.

We’re just getting into a fun debate over boxing versus MMA when Erin approaches me, as if I’m a caged lion and she’s been hired to feed me raw steak from her palm. “Mr. Jackson,” she says, as if I bite. In all fairness to her, I don’t particularly like her and haven’t been the nicest guy.

“Yes.” I smile, hoping to redeem myself.

“It’s really time to cut the cake.”

I nod and scan the large space, looking for my wife. Finally, after searching for a bit, I spot her. She’s on the dance floor, and her partner is Colin. He must have requested a country song from the band because I don’t recognize the music. They’re two-stepping like mad across the floor. Caroline is standing by the tables and laughing like crazy. What I’ve come to learn about Caroline and Colin is that they are Rachael’s family, which now makes them mine.

I tell the guys goodbye, and tell Holden that I’ll to introduce him to the other guests in a moment, but first I owe Caroline a dance.

She sees me approaching, and her smile grows as I draw closer. I reach my hand out. “Since your husband stole my wife, I thought it only fair that I dance with you.”

“Oh. Yay!” She beams as I lead her out on to the dance floor.

Colin spies us and gives me a scowl, while Rachael laughs like a hyena. I take it that Colin isn’t thrilled with me dancing with his wife. Well too damn bad I’m not particularly happy that he’s dancing with mine.

The band begins a new country song. I think George Strait originally recorded it, but I’m not sure. I take Caroline in a strong hold and begin to two-step her across the floor. She’s a fantastic dancer. Instead of having to strongly lead her like I have to with Rachael, we glide.

I compliment her. “You sure know how to dance.”

“I do. It’s one of the things that Colin and I enjoy doing together.” She gets a twinkle in her eye that tells me that there is more to the story, but I don’t ask.

We’re silent for a couple of beats before she says, “Graham, be good to her. I know that she’s got a strong personality and people think that she’s tough, but she’s not. She’s got—”

“Shhh . . .” I silence her with a spin. When she comes back around, we resume two-stepping. “I love her. I’m crazy about her, and I’m determined to make her happy. Save your worries for someone else.”

She nods, and we finish our dance without another word spoken. As soon as the song is over, Colin rushes to her side and steals my dance partner while I collect Rachael for cake-cutting time.

After we’ve shoved cake into each other’s mouths, I ask Rachael if she’s ready to make this wedding truly a business expense. “Am I ever not ready?” She smirks.

We grab Holden, who I’ve come to refer to in my head as Test Subject A, and introduce him first to former President Jones. It goes well. Rachael, Holden and the former President begin talking politics, so I slip away.

Rachael is much better at shaking hands and kissing babies than I am.

I make a beeline for the bar and order another bourbon, but before I’m able to take my first sip, Roan Perez stops me. He’s another one I didn’t want to invite, but Rachael reminded me that he is the Vice President and even though we both think he’s an asshole, he’s one that wields a lot of power.

“Never thought I would see the day that Rachael Early got married.” Roan slaps me on my shoulder, as if we’re old buddies.

I’m so tempted to brush my arm where he touched it, but I don’t, because I’ve been told to play nicely tonight. “Guess she finally found the right guy.” I hold my bourbon up in a toast.

Bourbon has never tasted so sweet slipping down my throat.

“Think she’d have any interest in working in my office?”

“Not on your life,” I reply, slapping his shoulder in return and walking away.

Damn that felt good.

I shake a few more hands and thank more people for their congratulations before I decide that my wife has politicked enough, and it’s time for us to leave.

Sliding up behind her while she visits with some guy who she used to work with who is now at CNN, I wrap my arms around her waist and whisper in her ear, “It’s time for bed, Mrs. Jackson.”

Graham is in the baby’s room, staring at his mini-me, while I sit in the middle of the floor, looking at the very expensive set of lingerie that I had purchased for tonight. I can’t bring myself to slip it on. Instead, I stare at it trying to find the energy to put it on.

Tonight was amazing—a final destination to a very long journey that began at a diner in D.C. or maybe even the President’s viewing room.

Malik and his wife were there. It was great seeing him again. I promised him long ago that I would invite him to the wedding. Rachael Early Jackson keeps her promises. Maggie came with a date. He seemed nice enough—Roger, I think is his name. She whispered that he loves cats. It was great seeing Lou and other friends from my former life, and a nice reminder that I’m so glad that I’ve ended up in this fantastic place.

Right now, I just crave silence. I feel like since I agreed to run Graham’s tour that there hasn’t been a moment of stillness. It’s been great. I don’t regret my decision for one second, but our life has been one crazy rollercoaster ride. Tomorrow, we get to be a family in a house that doesn’t move and on a timeline that we now dictate. What a ride it has been.

“I’m just going to rip it off with my teeth and toss it on the floor,” Graham says from behind me. I sigh.

He walks over the lingerie bag, pulls the delicate lace number from it and throws it over his left shoulder. “There. I saved me the hassle.”

I’m bone tired, but strangely enough, when Graham’s lips find my breasts, I have the energy to make love to him for the next hour.

After we’re snuggled into bed, my head resting on his chest, I deliver my big news. “Did you see Candace at the reception?”

“You mean your book agent that sounds like she swallowed glass?” He runs his hand over my arm, causing goose pimples.

“Yes. That’s the one.” I swallow. “Well, she gave me the best wedding present ever.”

“Really? A better present than me?” he asks, grabbing my wrist and running his finger over my diamond tennis bracelet.

“How about a different present?”

“I’ll take that.” He smirks.

“Well, you just made love to Rachael Early Jackson,
New York Times
bestselling author.
Anything, But Not Everything
will debut in tomorrow’s paper at the top of the list,” I proudly state.

“You did it, baby,” he congratulates me, as his hand that was stroking my arm moves across my stomach and over my breast. “This calls for celebration sex. I need to be inside of a bestselling author.”

So begins another round of Graham making sure that our marriage is properly consummated.

The next day, we pack our stuff and head to the lobby of the hotel to finally go home. It’s only fitting that Graham pulls up in the pickup truck towing The Cougar behind it.

“Seriously?” I smirk.

“Yup,” Graham says, smacking the side of the travel trailer. “It’s only fitting, don’t you think? It is what convinced you to give me a second chance.”

“It was all The Cougar’s doing,” I reply, as I strap the baby into the car seat.

Graham loads our bags into the backseat. It feels empty without George, and I can’t wait to get home to see my big wonderful boy.

As we pull out of the hotel parking lot, Graham slaps the steering wheel. “Got one more trip in you, old girl. Take us home.”