Thief:A Bad Boy Romance(88)

 

Oh holy fucking shit.

 

Yeah, everything is about to change alright, but I’m not thinking about the fucking job anymore. When this marriage happens, the girl standing across the oval office from me looking at me with fire in her eyes like this is all my fault somehow is going to be my stepsister. We’ll all be one big happy family.

 

The first family.

 

And, I’m willing to bet, certainly the first family where the first son has been inside of the first daughter.

 

Shit.

 

 

 

 

 

3.

 

 

 

 

 

This isn’t happening, this can NOT be happening.

 

“Madison, take your coat off, for crying out loud.”

 

I ignore my mother, still scowling at the man across from me as I shove my hands into the pockets of my coat, pointedly not taking his outstretched hand. He raises an eyebrow at me and rolls his eyes, as if I’m some sort of child that’s acting out of line here.

 

As if I don’t have every reason in the world to be absolutely floored by this revelation.

 

“Wait, so why can’t you just tell everyone now?” Major Ryan’s younger son, Dexter, the kid with sullen look on his face picking at his collared shirt and tie like they’re shackles or something rolls his eyes at his father. “Seems like it’s still this big secret if we still have to keep playing this stupid game.”

 

“Dexter-” The Major glares at his son before putting a hand over my mother’s on the desk. The kid looks like a little shit, but I have to admit he’s got a point.

 

“The wedding and your father and my relationship has to be kept in the dark for as long as possible, Dexter, because it has to be.” My mother - President Eleanor Adams - stands tall and squares her shoulders behind the desk. “It has to be or my opposition in Congress will hold everything up and not let a single damn thing I back or endorse through on the grounds of some sort of perceived scandal, because that’s just unfortunately the petty way things work in politics.”

 

“Petty like keeping secrets from everyone? Oh that’s rich.”

 

“Dexter! That is quite enough!” His father thunders at him, his whole body tensing up to his full military-grade poise.

 

My mother puts a hand on his arm though and smiles at Dexter in that way she does that just seems to settle things. The way she does that’s had voters flocking to her in record numbers since she was running for local town council back when I was a kid in Oregon.

 

“This town is a man’s game, Dexter. As much as we’d like to say it’s a level playing field, we all know damn well that it isn’t.” She frowns. “And it’s bad enough that I remind them all of their mothers or their sisters or their wives, but I will not have those old bastards treating me as such.”

 

“I don’t understand why I have to be a part of this charade, and why is he here?” I scowl, pointing accusingly at Hunter.

 

It’s a stupid thing to say, of course. Why wouldn’t Hunter be here? Even aside from being the son of my mother’s secret paramour, his father did just become Secretary of State.

 

“He’s doing his part in service to his country, Madison,” my mother says with a shake of her head. “I know we’ve been over this. Hunter’s choice was to join the Secret Service after leaving the Marines. And he’ll continue his duties in the Service for appearance’s sake until Alec and I go public, at which point he’ll of course be removed from active duty.”

 

I’m scowling right at him, and my mother suddenly catches the look and frowns at me. “Do you two know each other?”

 

“No!”

 

We both say it at the same time, far too quickly and far too loudly, which only makes the red flush in my cheeks deepen as I cringe into my coat.

 

He seems to recover immediately though as he clears his throat and smiles charmingly at my mother. “I think maybe Madison and I met at one of the campaign fundraisers, Madame President.”

 

‘Madame President’; give me a fucking break, I think, rolling my eyes.

 

“You were in Iraq, dude,” Dexter mumbles from the couch, glancing at his cell phone. “You didn’t have to go to those things.”

 

“Well,” he shrugs, turning to grin at me. That wicked, wolfish, teasing grin. The eyes that pierce right into me, and that arrogant, cocky stance like he’s not at all bothered by the nuclear meltdown happening in slow motion in this room. “Maybe we’ve bumped into each other somewhere else then.”

 

Please kill me right now.