Page 64 of State of Retribution (First Family #9)
“What the heck?” Sam asked as she spun around to face him.
“It turns out that when the president asks the White House staff for a little help, they’re happy to oblige.”
“So we don’t have to do it?”
“Nope.”
“Best news I’ve had all day.”
With the furniture having been moved to the third floor, their footsteps echoed through the empty rooms. “Amazing, isn’t it?” she said. “The president asks for a little help, and it’s done. Just like that.”
“The White House staff is outstanding that way.”
“They sure are. What’s left for us to do?”
“The closets in our room and the kids’ rooms. Gideon said they left boxes for us.”
“Do I smell food?”
Nick gave her a mysterious look. “Maybe.”
“Where will I find it?”
Using his chin, he pointed to the stairs.
Intrigued, Sam went up to the second floor, where the scent was strong enough to make her mouth water.
When she opened the door to their bedroom, she was greeted by the glow of candlelight.
A table set for two with a bouquet of red roses on it was positioned in the middle of the otherwise empty room. Her delighted squeal made him laugh.
“Did you know,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, “that the president comes with a personal chef who delivers?”
“Look at you, working the perks.”
“There’s gotta be something in this for me, and I couldn’t take my best girl on a date and not feed her.”
“I see you got your florist involved, too.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted her to feel left out of date night.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“The salmon and risotto you love, along with some filet mignon and vegetables. I asked for all our favorites. I bet he sent the cookies, too.”
“The cookies are to die for.” Sam turned to him and gave him a big hug and then a kiss. “This is awesome. Thank you for planning it.”
“My pleasure, love. Thank you for everything.”
“Haha, by ‘everything,’ do you mean the whole White House/first lady thing?”
“That as well as your unwavering love and support, our four beautiful kids—and our daughter-in-law—for Skippy, the first dog I’ve ever had, too, and the extended family you’ve given me. I have nieces and nephews! All of it. Every single thing.”
“Your joy is my joy.”
“I’m filled with it, thanks to you and the kids and the family we’ve created for ourselves with them and everyone else we’ve kept close to us during this crazy ride.
But first and foremost, I’m thankful for you, the one who makes all the rest of it happen.
Thank you also for not getting shot this week. I very much appreciate that.”
“Whatever I can do for you.”
He kissed her softly, sweetly, and had her knees going weak in a matter of seconds. “More of that after dinner.”
“Yes, please.”
“We can’t forget that we do have to pack some stuff,” he said, attempting a stern tone that was comical.
“We won’t forget.”
He nuzzled her neck. “We might forget when there’re so many better things to do besides pack.”
“What do you have in mind, Mr. President?”
“You’ll see. First, dinner.” He guided her to the table and held the chair until she was settled. Then he uncorked a bottle of rosé for her and cabernet for him, pouring for them like he was a sommelier and not the leader of the free world.
That thought made her giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking that you’ve changed jobs and are now a sommelier.”
“Is that an option? I think I’d like it better than the job I have.”
“Anything is better than the job you have. Hell, the one I have, too. Why’d we pick such awful careers, anyway?”
“That’s a very good question and one a shrink would have a field day with.”
“The historians will wonder what brought two career masochists like us together.”
“We know what brought us together.”
“Hot sex, according to SNL .”
Laughing, he said, “Yep, that’s it exactly.”
“It’s weird to me that everything about us will be examined by historians and recorded for all of time.”
“You’ll have dresses in the Smithsonian.”
“Stop it. No way.”
“Yes way. They have a first lady exhibit. They’ve probably already requested the gown you wore to the inaugural ball when I was VP.”
“That’s so bizarre to me. Like, who cares what I wore?”
“History cares, love.”
“History is a weirdo.”
He nearly choked on his sip of wine. “That’s something only you would say.”
“I don’t think much of nature either, if you must know. All that violence of animals eating each other.” She shuddered. “I cannot with that.”
“How come I’ve never heard about this aversion to nature before, he asks as she digs into her salmon, which comes from nature?”
She aimed her fork at him. “Do not talk about where the food comes from. I’ve got enough trouble with Aubrey’s questions about chickens and eggs. Wait until someone tells her chickens have feelings. And I’ve told you before that I don’t do nature.”
“I don’t believe you have.”
“Is this a deal breaker?”
“Only if you refuse to go walking with me at Camp David out of fear of seeing something that can’t be unseen.”
“Would you protect me if an antelope was attacked by a cheetah?”
He laughed so hard, he had tears in his eyes. “There’re so many things wrong with that question that I don’t even know where to start.”
“There’s only one correct answer to the question,” she said with feigned indignation.
“Of course I’d protect you from the antelope and the cheetah, but if we see them at Camp David, we have bigger problems than them attacking us or each other since neither of them is native to the mountains of Maryland.”
“How do you know that?”
“Um, everyone knows that.”
“Shut up. That’s not true.”
He rolled his lips as if trying not to laugh in her face.
“I said to shut up.”
“Yes, dear.”
“It’s annoying how smart you are.”
“And I’m not even the one who grew up right next to Maryland.”
“You’re pushing your luck, mister.”
“Then I’ll quit while I’m ahead and say I’d protect you from anything that might want to eat you. Except me, of course.”
Sam choked on her mouthful of wine as she sputtered with laughter. “That’s disgusting.”
“You don’t really think that. In fact, if I recall correctly?—”
She gave him a look that ended that thought before he could finish it.
He responded with a look that would melt the panties off any straight woman with a pulse, including her. “I could always refresh your memory after dinner.”
That was all it took to get her motor running for whatever he had in mind for dessert.
“We’re here to pack.”
“Among other things. Finish your dinner. We have an agenda.”
“What agenda do we have?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Nick had needed this night away from the White House with her far more than he’d realized until they were sitting in the place they’d first called home together, bantering over cheetahs and antelopes.
He recalled how she’d resisted moving in with him when he first bought this place down the street from her dad’s house, because she’d felt their relationship was moving too fast. Once they’d reconnected six endless years after they first met, it’d happened at the speed of light, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it.
Funny how silly that seemed now that they were married more than two years and about to be the parents of four kids.
Everything they were, though, had begun in this place, and it was sad to think about not living there anymore.
He doubted they’d come back there after the White House, since the Secret Service would want them somewhere more secure.
They’d allowed them to live there when he was the VP only because of its close proximity to Sam’s injured father.
But it hadn’t been ideal then, and it wouldn’t be an option later.
“What’re you thinking about over there?” she asked as she took a bite of the chocolate cake he’d requested because she loved it so much. He’d saved the cookies for later.
“I’m thinking about how this was the first real home I ever had and how we probably won’t live here again.”
“Does that make you sad?”
“More reflective than sad. Home is wherever you and the kids are, but this place will always have a special place in my heart because it’s where we began—after I finally talked you into moving in with me, that is.”
“Haha, I had to put up some resistance, or you might’ve thought I was too easy.”
He laughed like he always did when she talked about being easy. “That’s one word no one is ever going to use to describe you.”
“I’m pretty easy where you’re concerned.”
“In some ways. In others, you keep me on my toes.”
“Stop it. That’s not true. I’ve never been easier with anyone in my life than I am with you—in every possible way it’s possible to be easy.”
“If you say so, dear.”
“I do say so, and if you want me to continue to be easy, you’d better say so, too.”
“If you were any easier, you’d melt like butter on my tongue. Better?”
“Kind of a gross way to put it, but okay.”
“What’s gross about butter melting in my mouth?”
She cringed. “Quit saying that.”
Laughing, he said, “You know what’s one of the many things I love best about you?”
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
“How I never, ever, ever know what you’re going to say or do next.”
“That’s also not true. I’m the most boringly predictable person ever.”
His eyes went wide. “Are you serious? Do you honestly think that’s true? Because no one who knows you would ever say that about you.”
“Please. What do I do but get up, go to work, come home, be with you guys, go to bed, rinse and repeat? Day after day after day.”
“Oh, babe, you may follow a routine, but nothing about you is boring or predictable. Take my word on that. And if you don’t believe me, I’m happy to take a survey of our people to ask their opinions. It’s safe to say they’ll all agree with me.”
“Because you’re the president.”
“No, because I’m right.” He reached across the table for her hand. “You’re the most endlessly fascinating, sexy, funny, complicated, passionate, clumsy, delightful person any of us has ever met, and you keep everyone in your life highly entertained.”