You bet your sweet ass, I do. And I’ll take some answers on the side, please.

“Yes, thank you.”

Lucy let us into her apartment and went right for the coffeepot after urging me to have a seat on the couch. Once the coffee was brewing, she pulled off the hoodie and joined me in the living room, choosing to sit at the far end of the couch, away from me.

“So, are you going to tell me why you don’t want to kiss me?” I asked.

I couldn’t let it go. This girl’s evasiveness rivaled a politician’s, and it intrigued the hell out of me.

She reached up to twine a strand of her hair around her finger, a gesture I’d seen her do before, and it dawned on me this was what she did when she was uncomfortable or nervous.

Damn. That’s not what I wanted.

Finally, she said, “I’m not the right person for you. Like I said before, we’re two entirely different people.”

I chuckled. “Well, that’s a good thing, or I’d want to kiss myself.”

Her lips formed a tight smile. She was clearly not amused.

I scooted a little closer to her on the couch and pushed the few strands of hair she’d been playing with behind her ear. “Look, just because two people don’t come from the same place or have different opinions, it doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be together. Yes, we’re different people. I understand that, but you need to explain why that’s such a bad thing.”

She didn’t blink; she just stared at me while I begged her with my eyes to communicate with me. Could she see how much I wanted her?

Then a thought hit me, and it curled into a ball in the pit of my stomach.

“Do you think you’re going to get hurt? Has someone hurt you in the past?”

She started to lower her face, but my index finger halted her chin, and she shook her head.

“No. I’m afraid of the opposite.”

My shoulders dropped. “You’re afraid of hurting me?” I traced her cheekbone from her adorable freckle to the corner of her lip, which was curved down. “The only way you can hurt me is by not letting whatever this is between us to happen.”

“Drake . . .” She pull away and visibly relaxed when a beep sounded from the kitchen. “The coffee is ready.”

I snatched her hand. “I don’t care about the coffee. I need you to talk to me. Please tell me what it is.”

Frowning, she said, “Look, this is what I know. Public figures are scrutinized for everything they say and do, and so are the people around them. If we’re together, then my problems become your problems, and you don’t need that. You’re seeking reelection, and you’re the best senator this state has produced in decades. Not to mention you want the presidency one day. It’s too much responsibility. I can’t risk that.”

My chest swelled a little at her praise. “So you think I’m one of the best senators?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’d make a good president?”

“No, I think you’d make a great one.”

“Does that mean I’m a smart man and make intelligent and rational decisions?”

She nodded and finally gave me a shy smile before she said, “Yes, of course.”

“Good. So it’s settled.”

I crossed my arms in front of me as I waited for it to click with her. When she continued to squint at me in confusion, I helped her along.

“I’m a smart man, and you agreed that I make rational decisions. So I’m deciding that you need to give us a chance. If you disagree with me, then you’re reneging on everything you just said.”

She shook her head. “That’s not fair.”

“But it’s true. Just give us a chance; that’s all I’m asking. Whatever it is you think will hurt me, I promise you, it won’t.”

I stood up. “Coffee?”

She nodded. We both took our coffee black and sat back down. For a moment, the only sounds were our breathing and the slight slurp as we sipped.

“So,” she said, peering at me over the rim of her coffee cup, “I read that Grissett is the Democrats’ frontrunner.”

I frowned. “He is.” The mere mention of that man’s name irritated me. I knew he would probably be my opposition, but he was the type of politician that gave us all a bad name.

Her expression turned thoughtful. “Of all the candidates, I’m surprised he’s leading in the polls. He seems like an ass.”

When Lucy wrinkled her nose in distaste, I chuckled. “See? We do have the same views.”

“I suppose we do,” she said, giving me a slight smile, “when it comes to certain things.”

Relieved that she seemed to be relaxing again, I decided not to push my luck. Getting to know Lucy and gain her trust was going to take time and patience, it seemed. Something had obviously happened to her that kept her from feeling comfortable with me. Whatever it was, I wanted to help her get over it, because I intended to spend a lot of time with her.

“It’s late,” I said reluctantly. “I should be going.”

We walked to her front door and before I left, I took her face in my hands. She looked up at me, her eyes wide as I rested my thumbs on her temples and brought my lips close to hers. I could feel her heart rate increase beneath my fingertips, and her breathing changed. But it wasn’t until her lips parted that I kissed her.

My hopes rose as she reciprocated, resting her hands on my biceps. She didn’t push me away. Instead, she held on tight as I gave her an easy good-night kiss.

“Good night, Lucy.”

The door closed behind me, and as I headed to my car, my thoughts spun. I couldn’t wrap my head around why she didn’t feel as if she was good enough for me. Lucy was beautiful, intelligent, funny, and sexy as hell. It amazed me to think she thought she might hurt me in some way.

It was then and there I vowed to make sure she changed her mind. I’d make her realize she wasn’t only good enough for me, but was perfect.

Chapter 5

~ Lucy ~

Mason met me for our morning coffee and chat in the teachers’ lounge. The room was dreary, so beige and boring. The only color was that of the American flag, which naturally reminded me of a particular senator.

“Good morning, Mason.” I smiled and plopped down next to him at one of the two round tables in the lounge, handing him the latte I’d bought him at Starbucks on the way in.

“Thank you for this.” He took a sip and studied me over his cup. “You seem very chipper this morning. Did you have a good time after I left yesterday?”

“Thanks for a fun day. I had a blast.” I smiled, hoping he would drop it, but knowing he wouldn’t. “Mud and all.”

“That’s not what I asked,” he said, pinning me with a meaningful look. “I meant afterward, with Drake.”

Two teachers came in with one of the secretaries and sat at the table next to us, but not before ogling my coffee partner.

I leaned across the table. “They want you,” I said in a low voice with a wink, and he gave them a quick glance before dismissing my comment.

Marie, the music teacher, looked brightly at me from the next table. “Lucy, I saw Senator Prescott in your room the other day. Do you think he’d come into my class?” She winked. “I bet he has a great instrument.”

The other teachers snickered, and I pressed my lips together to hold back a snarky retort for the teachers acting no older than the students they taught.

Smiling sweetly, I said, “I really wouldn’t know, but I’m sure if you contact his office, they could help you.”

And so it began. This was exactly what I’d been afraid of—unwanted attention.

Longing for the sanctuary of my classroom, I stood and headed for the door. Mason followed and slipped my heavy tote bag off my shoulder so he could carry it for me.

Since I taught history and government, the walls of my classroom were plastered with maps and pictures of past presidents. Scanning them as I made my way to my desk, I thought about how bizarre and incredibly wonderful it would be to have Drake’s picture hanging on my wall one day.