Commander in Chief

“Why?”

That lovely playful sparkle I remember so well appears in his eyes again. “Because you look good on my arm.”

“Haha.” I’m suddenly smiling, I can’t help it.

His lips are curved too, but his stare is deathly serious. “Because I can’t see any other woman standing next to me. And because no one could do the job that you could.”

My heart flips in my chest.

“We’ll figure this out. You try the role on for size. Let me date you out in the public eye without hiding this time. We’ll take it as slow as you need.”

“The media will begin to speculate.”

“They can speculate all they like. As acting first lady you sleep in the White House, you’re on the president’s arm, and you can do so many things, Charlotte. I want to see you spread your wings and fly high, and I want to give you the platform to do it.”

“I don’t see myself as one of those ladies. I’m not posh enough.”

“You’re a countess; your grace is innate.”

“Stop flirting with me. You’re a cad, Mr. President.”

He laughs, and I scowl, and then he reaches out. “I’ll take this”—he leans over and pecks my lips—“as a yes.” He sets his forehead on mine. “A team will stop by to get your belongings, set them all in your room in the White House, and your new detail will pick you up tomorrow and bring you here.”

“I can’t move, Matthew—”

“Listen, I know you don’t want a media circus outside your apartment building every day for four years. I want you to be safe, and you’re safer with me.”

“I . . .” I can’t even think of an argument, and I definitely don’t think my neighbors deserve a media circus and Secret Service around 24/7. “Well, see, that’s something I really don’t need, a detail—”

He interrupts me as he crosses the room to leave. “We can talk more tomorrow. Expect them early.”

I watch him step outside to a trail of Secret Service agents behind him. I stay back for bit until he disappears out the door—and, it seems, until that moment when I can finally breathe. When I start to follow, he suddenly fills the doorway again.

“I forgot something—wait a minute.”

He pulls me back into the room, and then his lips are pressing firmly down on mine. I gasp at the contact, having missed it too much. Him too much. His taste, the way his tongue massages mine. And it’s massaging mine so wickedly as I open up instinctively, a moan leaving me and muffled by him as our tongues rub, tangle, twirl. Taste. Taste. Oh god, his taste. It’s divine ecstasy when he kisses me. Impulsively. Ravenously.

Head slanting, going as deep as he can go in the precious minute the kiss lasts. He groans as he pulls back, my face engulfed by both his warm hands as he drops his forehead on mine, his tone fierce.

“This isn’t over yet.”

“Matt—”

“It’s not over.”

Trying to pretend that a thousand and one things didn’t just awaken in my stomach, I push at his chest, urging him out the door. He doesn’t budge.

He takes a long moment to look down at my kissed lips—at me. In the way only he sees me, as if he knows my every dream and fear and nightmare, and all I have been and will ever be.

As if he knows that I . . . was and am and will always be his.

He smiles, and after one last glance at my wet lips, he steps out and leaves me with knees that just turned to putty.

“Mr. President,” says Wilson as Matt buttons his jacket, which I seemed to cause to come loose.

Matthew just nods and strides confidently down the hall with the men after him.

“Jackie Kennedy, Princess Diana—all young and beautiful and loved.”

“I just cannot believe you’re comparing me to them,” I tell Kayla as she sits on my small couch that night.

“Why?”

“I don’t see myself like one of them. I don’t know the first thing about it. I’m not my mother—it’s easy for her, smooth-talking, cool, and collected. My palms sweat, thinking of all these important people looking for reasons why I don’t fit the part.”

“You are the part. The president has asked you. The people have been fascinated by you and Matt since the whole campaign began. You go out there and show them Matt was right in picking you. He’s an intelligent man; let them see what he sees.”

I exhale.

“You don’t need to do it all at once,” she says.

“Oh, I’m definitely not doing it all at once. Small steps. Jessa would tell me that when I was little. Small steps take you farther, and one at a time.”

She continues gaping across the room, clearly still mind-blown. “Wow. God, I still can’t believe it.”

“Don’t tell Sam, or Alan, anyone, until he makes the official announcement, please.”

“Of course.”

I stare out the window, as mind-blown as she. I wanted a man to love and to make a difference. Does this mean I can have both?

Why is it that when the opportunity finally comes, the fear is so great, you almost want to back down?

“Whenever you doubt whether you belong there, know that you do. Jackie and Di. Both very beloved. They brought something new, something you cannot buy with experience. Tell yourself, Charlotte, ‘I have been asked by the president to be his acting first lady. And I’ve accepted.’”

I swallow, nodding. I’ve missed him too much. I’d do anything to be close to him. Anything. They say to grow as a person you need to challenge yourself, go for something higher, something that you might fail at, even.