Page 19 of Accepted Precedent (Love & Politics #3)

Mickey

I ’m known for being a cold, ruthless businessman, but all bets are off when it comes to Evelyn. She’s the light to my dark, the calm to my storm. She risked everything for Andrew, and I’m ready to do the same for her.

Thunder booms, but neither of us startle. Even with it being unseasonably warm tonight, I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay out here much longer.”

She lets out a shaky breath, and I can’t fucking help myself, sealing my lips to hers. It takes her by surprise, but only for a moment. Her sweet whimpers have my heart aching for more.

“Someone might see us,” she mutters, not breaking away, but her words make me end what I’ve wanted more than anything in years.

“As soon as Maryland is called, you’re coming home with me.”

Evie’s brows furrow. “What about Andy? It’s election night.”

“I want both of you tonight.”

“It’s… not a good idea.”

“What are you worried about, love?” Her gaze falls to my chest, and I tilt her chin as I repeat, “What are you worried about?”

“You. Me. This. All of it. There’s also the matter of not being in our twenties anymore.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” It comes out as a growl, but I can’t help it. If she dares imply what I think she is, I’ll drag her into a supply closet or conference room to prove how much I want her—just as she is.

“The dress you bought me for the engagement photos? That was a size eight. I’m a twelve now, Mick. Fourteen depending on the brand. I’ve got hips for days and cellulite in places I’d never want you to see.”

“I’ll stop you right there.” I grip her hips and pull her flush with me.

“You’re beautiful—not just your body. If anything, you’re even more gorgeous.

” I squeeze tighter. “Plus, I like having something to hold on to.” A small smirk tilts her lips, but I press a single soft kiss to the corner to drive it away.

Bringing her impossibly closer, I whisper beside her ear.

“Come home with me, angel. Give me a chance to prove we were never temporary.”

“If I do, we’re not sleeping together.” While her tone is cautious, the same fire I fell for years ago still burns brightly.

“You can stay in a guest room if you want.” I pull back to admire her sparkling sapphire eyes that I’m instantly lost in.

“Okay, but no big declarations of love either.”

“I can’t promise that.” I take a moment to memorize every laugh line, every freckle slowly appearing through her makeup the longer we’re out here. “You need to be careful, love. You have the heart of one of the most powerful men in Washington in your hands.”

She lets out a deep sigh. “I think you mean Andrew’s hands.”

“You’ll never believe me, will you? I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a woman of action—words are worthless without the effort.” I take her hand and rub my thumb over her wedding ring. “I made promises I didn’t keep, and it’s about time I make good on them.”

“This isn’t the clarity I expected,” she chuckles, mostly to herself. “You expect me to trade one husband in for another? I’m not property. What next? You want me to move in, lose twenty pounds, and become some kind of Stepford wife?”

A flash of light illuminates the night sky, but I only glance at it briefly. Thunder roars two seconds later. Two miles. The intrusive thought seeps in: if this is how I go, it’ll be worth it having kissed her one last time.

“No, angel. I want you to fight the way you used to.”

“Fight? Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t fight.

I bake sourdough now. Sourdough, Mick! I have a damn starter in my fridge that I made during quarantine, and it’s still active.

I even named him—Chad. I was hoping to set him up for failure with that one, but he’s lived up to his name.

I can’t keep a plant alive, but Chad endures.

I have to feed him often because I stress bake when Andrew goes to bed.

I bake three or four loaves a week. A week!

That’s why we’re not having sex. I’m curvy as fuck from eating so much fucking bread. ”

“Are you done venting about baking?”

“Yes,” she huffs, and I struggle to keep my composure.

“Maybe I should go back to your place tonight after Andrew wins Maryland. A few slices of toasted sourdough with a heaping portion of butter, and a sprinkle of flaky sea salt sounds like a perfect snack after I bury my face between your thighs.”

“Did you miss the part about how I now have sourdough thighs? I’m not the hot, sexy lobbyist I was a decade ago. Tonight I had a moment of weakness after some witchy woman told me to stand in the rain, but I can’t let you see me naked until I get a gym membership.”

I’m only following half of what she’s saying, and her eyes widen at my hard cock pressed against her.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re a size two or size twenty-two,” I growl.

“Wanting you has nothing to do with your beautiful body. I’m in love with you, Evie.

I have been for years. I’ve done a horrible job of showing it, but that ends tonight.

If you dare to speak a single negative word about yourself in front of me again, I’ll ensure your arse is red with my handprints until you admit how beautiful you are. ”

“Well, Mr. Gallagher, this is the part where I defy you, and I find out exactly how dangerous you are.” An unmistakable twinkle dances in her eyes. I’ve missed her spark. It’s been years since she’s looked at me this way and I’m tempted to throw her over my shoulder and run far away from here.

“Be careful, Mrs. Adams, or you’ll have a different last name before Christmas.”

I close the distance, her lips nearly touching mine, but Andrew’s voice breaks the spell my angel has me under. “Ten minutes until the polls close.”

“He needs us,” she whispers, not pulling away from me.

“And I need you.”

Her eyes search mine until Andrew clears his throat. “Ten minutes.”

I press a single kiss to Evie’s forehead and take her hand in mine, leading her back inside. This time she tugs her hand back, and I let her. As she interlaces her fingers with Andrew’s, my heart breaks, just as it did the day she married him.

Keeping my distance for the next few hours, I let them enjoy Andrew’s victory with the volunteers and staff once the race is called.

Finn pulls me aside, and with a paper shielding his mouth, he whispers, “Andrew is going to stay with me tonight. As soon as everything dies down, take Evelyn home. You’ve been in love with her for years, it’s about time you show that woman how much you missed her—and not just with your cock.

” He claps me on the back, then we make our way to Andrew and Evie.

Finn offers his hand, and I don’t think I’ve seen Andrew look this relieved in months.

“Congratulations, Senator Adams. Here’s to another six years.

Mickey is going to take Mrs. Adams home so we can go over logistics with Ms. Proctor. ”

Evelyn’s eyes widen as her gaze darts between the three of us. “Are you sure? I can stay, if you need me.”

“You’re soaked, love. Let Mick take you home and get some rest. It’s going to be another long Senate term for your husband—more babies to kiss and fundraisers to attend. You may as well get your beauty sleep while you can.”

Six more years without Evelyn. I won’t survive six hours—years are out of the question.

“He’s right. Finn, Kristin, and I are going back to his place once we close up shop here. At least one of us should get some sleep.”

“Are you sure?” she asks nervously.

Andrew assures her, “Of course. Love you.”

Nodding, Evie offers him a sweet smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Love you too.”

I shake Andrew’s hand, but all I want to do is steal him away from here with Evie. I’ve tortured myself for nearly a decade, and would give almost anything for a chance to prove how much I still love them.

But if I stay with Evie tonight, I won’t be able to give her back to Andrew in the morning.

The drive to Evelyn’s is short but in comfortable silence.

It seems the bulk of the storm has passed, but a light rain dusts my windshield.

As much as I want to touch her, even just hold her hand, I don’t risk it.

Still, I can’t remember the last time I felt less alone, less empty.

For years, I admired her from afar, watching her become too comfortable with being a politician’s wife.

The dinner parties, fake smiles, and forced conversations—she deserves better.

I pull into the driveway of the house I’ve passed daily for years.

There’s a large tree in the front that I always imagined would be perfect for a tire swing if they ever had children.

Turning off the ignition, I take a few deep breaths before exiting the car.

She doesn’t move, waiting for me to open her door—Andrew’s trained her well.

I offer my hand, and the moment she takes it there’s a zing of electricity shooting up my arm.

It isn't static; her mere presence is to blame. Keeping her fingers laced with mine, we make our way up her front steps and she fumbles with her keys. I take them from her to unlock the door, and once it’s shut behind us, I press her against the hard wood, desperate to taste her.

“I told you, we’re not having sex,” she manages breathlessly, her gaze falling to my lips.

“I believe I once told you I could make you come without fucking you, but never made good on that promise.”

Evie huffs a small laugh. “Do you ever keep your promises?”

Her question hurts, but she’s right—I’ve ruined everything for the three of us to keep Andrew in office. Unable to speak it, I change the subject. “When did you eat last?”

“Lunch,” she admits. “I had a bowl of soup.”

“That’s not lunch,” I groan and step away from her. Needing to be close to my angel, I take her hand and lead her into the kitchen, then lift her onto the counter. “You don’t move until you’ve had something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

I ignore her protest and rummage in her cabinets and fridge. There’s sliced sourdough, white cheddar, and gruyere—easy grilled cheese. “Where are your skillets?”

“Cabinet to the left next to the stove.”

As I pull it out, I glance back at her. “You don’t have staff, angel. Who cooks more—you or Andrew?”

“Andrew’s better than me, but?—”

“No. Let’s try that again.”

She squirms on the counter, contemplating her correction. Smiling briefly, she tucks the levity away and squares her shoulders. “I cook most nights.”

“What’s your favorite?”

Her hidden grin slips. “Breakfast for dinner, or grilled cheese.” She eyes the ingredients I pulled out. “I have fresh bread for that.”

“Where?” As Evie attempts to hop off the counter, I stop her and growl, “No, I’ve got it.

” While her eyes widen for a brief moment, her pupils shrink quickly as she points to the large pantry without looking away.

“That’s my good fucking girl.” She blushes, but the light rose tinge dissipates from her cheeks before I return to her.

“It’s not my best loaf,” she rushes out, and I press my finger to her lips to silence her.

“You made it, so it’s likely the best fuckin’ bread I’ve had in my life.

You haven’t had anything to eat all day.

It’s about time you let someone take care of you.

” Her face falls and she looks away—I’ll have none of it.

“I fucked up, Evie. I’m sorry. As empty as those words may feel, I promise they’re true.

You warned me that I need to win you over, earn your trust. That won’t happen in one night.

But let me in, love. Give me a chance to show you I’ve never stopped loving you. ”

Her gaze finally meets mine. “Love me? Mick, I thought we talked about this. No declarations. I’ve spent years married to my best friend when all I wanted was for you to finally say enough was enough.

If I walked away years ago, my career would be non-existent.

If I divorced amicably now, they would assume Andy cheated.

I’m married to your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—I don’t know what you are.

As much as I’d love to play house, in what reality do I get…

anything? ” She doesn’t allow me to answer.

“None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I gave him my best years, when I could’ve been fighting for women’s reproductive rights, and all I have to show for it is a passport with his last name. ”

“I feel like?—”

“I’m not done, Mick! I don’t care that I’m Evelyn Adams. It’s a name—a title.

What I care about is that you waited until Andy’s seat was secure for another six years before you dared to rekindle whatever the fuck this is.

” She hops off the counter and steps up to me, her voice softer as she admits, “I had a moment of weakness. There was a constituent I spoke to tonight who promised if I stood in the rain I’d have clarity—or some other witchy bullshit. I bought into it.”

“You sound like Nan,” I chuckle, but cough to clear my throat.

“I’ll never be able to fix what I broke.

Andrew thinks he’s to blame, but it’s me; I allowed this to go on for too fuckin’ long.

I love you Evie. I always have. I don’t care if I spend the night on the sofa, or if you let me into your bed—I’m yours and always have been.

For now, I’m going to make sure my girl is fed, has taken a proper shower, and only then will I let you drift off to sleep. ”

“Damn it, Mick! How am I supposed to follow that?”

“You don’t.” I tuck a few rogue strands of her fiery red hair behind her ear, and admit, “You’re never supposed to question Daddy, angel.”