Chapter Three
Huxley
Walking into the nursery was in some ways like walking on stage: exhilarating and deeply familiar at the same time. Lowell had never liked to be on stage but Huxley had never minded it. Probably why they’d ended up where they had: Huxley the song and dance man with his campaign promises, kissing babies, shaking hands, genuinely enjoying it all while Lo skulked behind him and made sure savvier people didn’t fuck him over.
He remembered this room from the orientation of course, but it was like seeing a theater during a show instead of empty. The nursery was full of life and joy now, littles coloring and playing games, one turned over their mommy’s knee and getting spanked in a rocking chair tucked in a corner, a daddy changing his little girl’s diaper on the changing table. It filled his heart but also thickened his cock. Perhaps he’d be so lucky as to find his own little to do those things with. Or should he saytheirown little.
To his gaze, it seemed most people there were attached in some fashion. Fun to watch, good candidates for friends, mentors, but he wasn’t in the business of interfering in anyone’s relationship or poaching anyone’s partner.
Perhaps the urge was leftover from Lo’s insistence that he not give the press anything to talk about in regards to his romantic life. Or if he did, that it was just enough for them to speculate he’d started dating someone blandly appropriate for a political wife. His brother Cabot had already married his. Nuala was charming and sweet and pretty but seemed content to stand at Cabot’s side, and not in the monomaniacal way Lo had his back.
Here, though, Hux didn’t have to muster fake enthusiasm for anyone he had no real interest in. He was free.
After all this time being the public envoy for the Foster-Webb political dynasty, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Within reason.
But he’d never wanted to destroy hotel rooms or commit crimes or anything else that would shame their family. All he’d wanted was this, and the stress and strain of having to keep his real self so tightly under wraps had nearly killed him.
When he turned to survey the rest of the room, he saw her. Dirty blond hair tied in a high ponytail, a sweet little slate blue corduroy pinafore dress over a white turtleneck, and brown knee-high boots. It wasn’t an adorable littles’ outfit, but the way her clothes hugged her curves and her gloss-slicked lips had his feet carrying him in her direction before he could think twice about it.
A casual smile tugged at the corners of her plush mouth and she didn’t bother to hide the way she looked him up and down. Which didn’t do anything to deter him. To the contrary, he was most attracted to strong women, bordering on aggressive, who would trust him enough to let him care for them, look after them. Brats weren’t his thing, but he didn’t mind a bit of fight, and this woman—with the way she set her hands on her hips—looked like she would give him one.
He held out a hand and a thrill ran through him when she took it, and again when she gave him a firm, confident shake. Being a politician he was well-versed in the wide variety of handshakes from limp fish to dick-measuring contests and this woman’s made him think she knew her own mind even as her lips parted and her eyes widened.
“Hello. Scene name’s Elder, I’m new here.”
Choosing a nickname had been more difficult than he’d anticipated, but he was pleased with his choice. He felt Elder commanded respect without being a cocky asshole about it. It was also a bit of an inside joke since he was technically Lo’s older brother if only by a few minutes which he never let his twin forget.
There was a depth to the woman’s eyes as she regarded him, one he wasn’t quite close enough to figure out the source of. If he had to pick a color it would be hazel but that didn’t tell the whole story. So much intrigue that he wanted to sic Lo on it to dig up everything he could on this woman, but he wouldn’t. Because privacy and discretion was the name of the game in a place like this and he’d damn well honor that.
Besides, he knew what it was like to have your whole life lived in public and how that could strip a man of everything he thought he knew about himself. Force him to live a lie for so long it had become difficult to recognize the truth. No matter how strong his curiosity, he’d honor everyone else’s privacy.
“You can call me Shannon. Short for shenanigans.”
The way she pursed her lips in a tease made him want to pull her flush against him and see if he could startle that calm but flirtatious confidence out of her, render her softer and more vulnerable. Did he hope that would work or not? Reluctantly, he relinquished her hand. Didn’t want to be a creeper, after all.
“Pleasure. Are you also new or have you been a member here long?”
Wasn’t much better thanDo you come here often?But it would do. And give him a direction to steer the conversation in. Shannon didn’t seem to mind his bland line, thankfully.
“I’m new. Not just to the club, either. New in town, to the state. I just moved here a few months ago.”
Ah. That would explain why she hadn’t squinted at him like some people did when they were introduced. People who recognized him but couldn’t figure out from where. Although given some of the work he’d done in the House, his reach was further than the sixth district.
“Welcome to Clover City then. I’m a local boy, born and raised, so if you’ve got any questions…you should probably ask someone else. My judgment is clouded by nostalgia and hometown pride.”
She laughed as he’d hoped she would. His opening line may have been bland, but he wasn’t always.
“I’ll be sure to go to someone less biased then.”
“Can I ask why you moved here? Family? A job? Just needed a change?”
“A job. I wanted to advance and the only way to do that was to work out of company headquarters so here I am.”
Ambitious. Despite having exited the rat race himself, Huxley still admired people who ran it. Suspected too that a hard-driven woman like that would need someone to take care of her after hours, make sure she burned long and bright and didn’t flame out spectacularly. Daddies were good at that. Among other things.
* * *
Tamsyn