Politically Incorrect (15 page)

When I didn’t find it right away, I glanced back at Aaron. “Hey, did you not get my Phat si-io?”

“Yeah, I ordered that, too.”

I opened another container, not finding my order. Then it struck me Liam had said he’d ordered the same thing. My head shot up to him. “No way!” I chortled.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Aaron growled.

Liam and I both snapped our gaze in Aaron’s direction. The sounds of the staffers eating stopped. Everyone looked at Aaron as if the Apocalypse was about to take place. “What?” Liam and I asked in unison.

“Jinx,” Liam mouthed to me.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. His tomfoolery was adorable, but a dangerous trap for me. I let my guard down once, and he’d taken over the score.

“What’s wrong?”

Aaron cracked his knuckles. “We thought it was an error. A double order of Phat si-io with jalapenos. I thought only Liam ate that shit. So, we only ordered one.” He rubbed his forehead. “You know what, I’ll take care of it. I’ll go get another order. It won’t take long. I’m sorry about this, Elizabeth.”

I glanced up at Liam. “It’s no problem. You don’t need to go back out. There looks to be ample amounts of fried rice and egg rolls here. I’ll have some of that. Liam can have the Phat si-io.”

“Nonsense. We can share it,” Liam argued, opening another container.

“It’s right here,” one of the interns offered.

The package was passed down to us and Liam grabbed two sets of chopsticks. “C’mon. We shared Radiohead a few minutes ago, I think we can share some Phat si-io.”

If it hadn’t been for my craving of those damn noodles, I would’ve argued with him, but instead, I accepted his generous offer. We found ourselves a little spot at the end of the table and together we speared into the delicious meal. Surrounded by the staff, we talked and chatted as if nothing were happening, yet through it all, I knew things had changed. The dynamic between us was ebbing. Control was shifting, and it seemed to be in Liam’s favor.

Score one to Liam. Game tied.

Three days on the bus was all it took before I was ready to kill me a Congressman.

This wasn’t my first rodeo. Most candidates enjoyed their privacy. They’d stay at one end of the bus and the staff and I would nest at the other. We only crossed the lines when business needed to be discussed.

Not Liam.

He was everywhere. All the time. The man couldn’t sit still to save his own life. No matter where I turned he was right there wanting to know what we were working on. I couldn’t wait ‘til we arrived in Dallas for Kristin to join us. Maybe then I could get a moment to breathe. My only moments of solace came when he had to perform his Congressional duties or his campaign responsibilities. Congress didn’t simply stop because he was on the campaign trail and there were loads of babies in Texas who needed to be kissed or reporters who needed attention.

Today was a reporter kind of day.

Off stage, the lights were dim, only bright enough for a person to see where they were going. Silent yet loud, the network crew moved about in chaotic order. Being around the media felt strangely comfortable to me. Everyone behind the scenes had their jobs and they did them well. If not for them, the person on the stage would look like a complete fool with a pretty face. Much like the way things happened in DC, although there, the faces weren’t typically pretty.

I pressed my tablet to my chest and observed the makeup artist pat away the shine from the anchor’s nose. Behind me, Liam paced back and forth. His hands bounced at his side as he muttered to himself. Anyone watching him would’ve thought he was a caged lion just captured from the wild.

He was grating on my nerves. As he started to pass behind me, I grabbed him by the wrist, jerking him to a stop. “Quit pacing,” I hissed through bared teeth. My smile didn’t waver but I made sure Liam heard my frustration. “They’re going to start throwing meat at you soon.” The sensation of touching him left me feeling weak in the knees. I dropped my hand and rubbed it against my pleated slacks.

Things between us weren’t getting any easier for me. No matter how many times I reminded myself that he was too young or off limits, I couldn’t get past the ache in my chest his smile caused. When we were in a room together, I felt him. His eyes. His body. The faint sound of his heartbeat. But I couldn’t let him see how our flirtatious banter affected me. His competitive nature would thrive on such knowledge, and I would lose all ground I had.

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled, moving beside me. “You’re not the one who’s about to be on
live
television.”

I chuckled, adjusting the collar of my blouse. “You’re right, but then I didn’t choose to be a public servant. I was smart about my political career. I stay on the sidelines where I belong.”

This interview had not been on the initial Austin docket but when it opened, I couldn’t turn it down. It was a local network evening broadcast and would be a fantastic plug for Liam. He needed some older viewership and this would reach that demographic. Not to mention we were on Keating’s home turf. The governor's mansion was a mere five-minute drive from the station. We were practically in her backyard.

“You and your sports euphemisms,” he groused. My gaze drifted from the stage to the man standing next to me. Our eyes met and the mood shifted between us. Liam inched closer to me, his arm brushing against mine. “And you can believe what you want,
Elizabeth
, but we both know you’ve never been on the sidelines in your life.” The manner in which my name rolled off his tongue sent tingles rippling through me. He drew out every syllable like he was making love to my name.

There was no way I was going to let his sexy voice and tempting smile deter me from getting my point across, though. “Sidelines, big guy.” I waved my hand around us. “Right where I belong.” I pursed my lips into a smug grin.

Score one for Elizabeth.

I squinted my eyes, trying to remember my latest count.

Dammit. That tied us again.

Liam 15 - Elizabeth 15.

No matter. At least I wasn’t losing.

Liam crossed his arms over his chest, stroking the tips of his fingers along the edge of my arm. My breath hitched in my chest. The warmth of his fingertips on my skin ignited that delicious ache inside me. Had I done what I wanted, I would’ve slapped him before jumping his bones. Neither were a viable option for me.

Determined to maintain the upper hand in this situation, I refused to look at my arm where he continued his gentle assault against my skin. My focus remained on the interviewer who’d just gone live and was making her opening remarks to the camera.

“You might be behind the scenes, but you govern the world around you like a puppeteer.”

My stomach clenched at the seductive lure of his voice.

I rubbed my shoulders to alleviate some of the tension in my body. “You make me sound like some sort of control freak.”

“That’s because you are.”

I cut my eyes to him. His expression begged me to challenge his observation, but who was I to disagree with the truth. When I chose not to respond, a small laugh pulsated from Liam. He lifted his hand, gently sliding his fingernails across my neck as he moved my hair away from my shoulder.

I choked down the scream rising inside me. Before I could smack his hand or pop off that he didn’t know shit about me, the producer caught my eye, flicking two fingers. The signal to send Liam on.

Saved by the production, I placed my tablet on some sort of equipment case, and turned Liam to face me. “Showtime, Congressman.” A tug or two at his oh-so-hideous tie made me feel a smidge more in control. He’d chosen a lime green and white striped silk tie to complete the casual look we’d fashioned him in. Matched to a white shirt, black sports jacket, and pressed jeans, he could’ve easily been posing for a magazine cover. “Now, go out there and make me proud,” I added, clapping my hands against his shoulders.

His brow did that single lift thing that drove me bonkers. “Is this where you smack my ass and tell me to win big or die trying?”

I extracted my electronic tablet from the case and smacked it against his chest. “No need. By now you should know I’ll kill you if you lose,” I blurted out, almost too loud.

People turned their heads to look at us and Liam let out a snort of a laugh. “And here I thought you’d be more concerned about someone overhearing me suggest you smack my ass.”

At that moment the announcer called his name and the producer waved frantically in our direction. I was speechless. Not a single word left me. All I could do was stand there with my mouth unhinged, as I watched Liam make his way onto the stage.

A roar of laughter from the crowd pulsed through the gallery, but I had no clue what he’d said to make the audience laugh. My head was filled with fog. Liam had done it to me again.

Bastard.

Liam chatted with the reporter like they were old friends. Guests on the show asked him questions and he answered each one with confidence and ease. He appeared calm and collected, charming his way into her heart and the hearts of all the people watching him. To watch him was like watching poetry in motion, as cliché as that might be.

At the height of the interview, I received a call and had to step out of the building. Once I got back inside, Liam had completed his segment. He stood with Scout and Aaron near the refreshment table, chatting.

“You’ve never been to the music district?” came Aaron’s shocked reaction.

Much to my amazement, Aaron and Scout had grown rather close. After their rocky start, I expected to have to keep them separated. It turned out that sexual tension has a way of making haters into lovers. Many nights I found them huddled up in Scout’s office in a rather cozy manner. It was kind of cute to watch the budding romance develop, but I did have to warn them that if it caused any issues with the campaign, I’d hang both their asses.

“I’m not from here, Nimrod.” Scout playfully jabbed Aaron in the ribs.

“Well, that settles it. We’re heading downtown tonight,” Liam advised. “You’re coming with us, right?”

All three sets of eyes landed on me.

I placed my open palm to my chest. “Who? Me?”

Smoldering brown eyes met mine. “Yes, you,” Liam replied, his pitch low and smoldering. “You can’t leave me alone with these two.”

A short, loud laugh burst from my lungs. “Afraid of what they might do to you?”

“More like I’m afraid of watching them make out like horny teenagers and being accused of some pervy threesome. We wouldn’t want a scandal to arise, now would we?”

“Gross!” Scout sneered.

“Horny teenagers, my ass!” Aaron protested.

“Oh, my God! Please don’t say threesome so close to the microphones!” I squelched.

“See! That’s why you need to be there. With me alongside these two lovebirds,” he thumbed toward Scout and Aaron, “there’s no telling what kind of trouble I’m liable to end up in.”

“We’re not in love,” Scout argued. The grin on Aaron’s face dropped a little, but he said nothing to deny nor support her claim.

“Whatever. I’m not going to be alone with you two while y’all are sucking face.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest, casting a quick wink in my direction.

“Please tell me you two aren’t actually making out in public,” I prodded, doing my best to ignore Liam’s little gesture.

“We’re not making out!” Aaron exclaimed. “We’re not even dating.”

I waved my hands downward. “Shh. Keep your voices down.” I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Thankfully it appeared we were unnoticed.

“So you’re just fucking then?” Liam parried.

“Liam!” I hissed. “Don’t say stuff like that where people can record you!”

Liam stuffed his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Then join us and keep me out of trouble,” he cajoled.

“Thanks, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” Aaron demanded, his arms draped over Scout’s shoulder.

Liam scratched the side of his jaw. “Yeah. Why not?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Because you really don’t want an old lady tagging along. I’d be boring.”

Aaron, Scout, and Liam all exchanged looks. “You’re not old!” Liam barked.