“I’m not ready for that,” I say, feeling a bit of panic. “I don’t even have a gun.”
Barrett bursts into a fit of laughter. “I’ll let you borrow Troy. He can be Hux’s new security guy.”
He seems to think nothing about what he’s just said, but I do. I watch him slice his steak, but I can’t shake the idea that if something did happen between us, Hux might actually need a security guy. The thought really bothers me.
“What’s the matter?” Barrett asks, setting his fork down.
“I know we’re eating and conversation is usually kept light, but what you just said made me think.”
“What I just said?” He scrunches his face, trying to figure out what I’m referring to. “About Troy?”
I lean back in my chair, putting a little distance between us. “We keep talking and seeing each other. And I can’t imagine that stopping anytime soon.”
“God, I hope not.”
My cheeks flushing, I try not to swoon and stay focused. “But then what, Barrett? What would that mean for Huxley?”
He considers my question. He takes a sip of wine before responding. “Well, you’re his mother. It’s your decision.”
“I mean, I know this might not go anywhere,” I say hurriedly. “I know it’s awful timing for you, and I’m not even sure I want it to go anywhere anyway—”
“I do.”
I force a swallow. His bluntness, his quick interruption, startles me. I search his face for a moment of, Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that, but I don’t see it. It’s not there.
“You do?”
“Even though you’re right—this is the wrong time to be starting a relationship with someone. Not even just that, I’m basically the guy you’ve been avoiding and I know that puts extra pressure on things. I want this to go somewhere. I want to see if it can. And maybe it can’t,” he adds with a small smile, “but I don’t want to always wonder.”
My eyes squeeze shut. He’s saying the things any woman in the world would love to hear him say, yet I don’t know if I can reciprocate them.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I don’t want to be in the media or Huxley to lose his freedom. I don’t want to be harassed for questions and . . .” I look at him with as much seriousness as I can. “I don’t want to be embarrassed publicly.”
“I would never embarrass you.”
“I know. I believe that. But sometimes, you know . . . What if you get elected? Then you move to Atlanta and all of a sudden there’s media everywhere asking questions, sticking cameras where they don’t belong? I’m getting déjà vu thinking about it.”
“Why?” he snorts. “Because you married an imbecile that thought he was king because he got a job as a judge?”
“Yes, actually. Because what if you go up the ladder and leave me behind?”
The thought causes a flash of panic to tear through me and I have to look away. It’s not the idea of being alone, that I can do. It’s the feeling of being unnecessary.
He tosses the linen napkin from his lap onto the table. His eyes a
re fiery. “Why would I do that?”
“I know how these things work.”
“No, you know what you’ve seen. But you haven’t seen me. You haven’t given me a chance to show you how I feel, how I act. How I feel about you won’t change whether I win the election or not. I don’t know exactly what will happen if I get the job. It’s something we’d have to figure out then together.” He grins. “What happened to that whole ‘Speak as you find’ thing?”
He’s making it way too easy to cave in. I look away from his beautiful eyes and sexy smile, from all the temptations that lure me in.
“What about Huxley?” I ask, figuring if there’s a deal breaker, it’ll be him.
“What about him? I’ll just have him do my baseball public relations work.”
Chuckling, I look at him. His features are softened in the candle light, his smile so authentic it makes me swoon.