Valentine Vote (12 page)

Think. Think. Think. Aha!

He cupped his hands with water, splashed his face, and dried off with paper towels as his plan took root.

Returning to the dining room via the kitchen, he completed the dinner order in conversation with the chef, ordering carrot soup and trout
meuniere
. The pungent smell of garlic made his eyes water when the
bruschetta
reached their table. The chef must have minced every garlic bulb within a hundred mile radius of Winston-Salem.

“Save some for me,” he said to Courtney, who had a large square of
bruschetta
poised in her hand.

“Don't worry. We'd have to take separate cars if only one of us ate this.” Courtney returned the
bruschetta
to her plate and fanned it toward Eric.

Eric sat down and reached for a slice. “If we went somewhere else after dinner, we'd clear the room.” He took a bite.

Courtney laughed, her nose crinkling in the process.

“Listen,” Eric said, weighing his words carefully, “there's nothing I want more than to make love to you, but I want it to be right.”
Here comes the zinger
. “I don't have any of my accoutrements here in Winston-Salem, and I'm sure you'd enjoy the … event … more with the addition of some toys.”

Eric smiled inside as all color drained from Courtney's face. Her posture stiffened and one hand flew to her neck to fiddle with a little diamond heart on a gold chain. So much for her bravado. “Well, that's not entirely necessary.” Her voice cracked on ‘necessary.'

“But it's your first time, and I want it to be all you expect.”

She blinked … repeatedly.

“Let's wait until we get back to Washington.” Eric reached across the table and took her hand. He'd bought himself some time, albeit with a lie that he'd have to back pedal out of later. But at least he wouldn't take her under false pretenses, and if she bolted after the vote, he wouldn't feel like a heel for stealing her virginity. Also, this was all so new for her. Maybe she'd gotten ahead of herself with the sexual innuendos. Maybe underneath her bravado, all she wanted was his vote. His heart sunk, but only momentarily. He didn't want to believe that, but could it have something to do with why she always pulled away?

For now, he'd be content with this small victory. Her first time should be with someone she really cared about. Eventually, he hoped that would be him.

• • •

Well, I royally botched that up.
Deep in contemplation, Courtney chewed on her bottom lip.
What is Eric's modus operandi? Why is he so reluctant to go to bed with me?
She appreciated his concern about her virginity, truly she did. It warmed her heart. But her girly bits had other ideas, and darned if she wasn't ready to become a woman in the true sense. As each day dawned, she inched closer to competing in the Guinness Book of World Records as “Oldest Living Virgin.” But it was deeper than losing her virginity. She respected this man, so while the lust factor was high, there was so much more to Senator Eric Morrison. She was even starting to understand his stance on tobacco, and wasn't
that
a paradigm shift? Oh, well, it looked like lovemaking was off the table for the evening, and maybe that was for the best. At some point, she'd need to tell him that the sex toys were unnecessary. Would that be the death knell for a relationship? She shrugged mentally, hoping there was no outward sign. Then with a heavy heart, she bit into the pungent
bruschetta
.

Valentine's Day couldn't come fast enough for Courtney, and it wasn't tied to the anticipation of a bouquet of roses or a huge box of chocolates. Nope. This Valentine's Day Courtney would know if the campaign she'd devoted so much of her time and energy to these past few months would benefit the lives of vulnerable youth … or not.

Since she and Eric had returned from Winston-Salem, they'd had little time to see each other, which gave Courtney more time to consider her future. And she was quite sure she wanted Eric in it. He'd invited her for lunch at the Courtyard Café at the National Portrait Gallery, and with the vote just four days away, this might be her last opportunity to set the record straight … before he cast his vote.

For once, Courtney arrived early—an attempt to calm herself for the revelation she'd spring on Eric. The Courtyard Café was one of her favorite spots in D.C. Housed in the Robert and Arlene Kogod Courtyard, it was a magnificent space under a glass canopy, and she'd attended a number of fundraising events here. But today, only a handful of patrons sat at the linen clad tables, sipping their illy coffee or glasses of wine. She and Eric would have plenty of privacy.

Suddenly, what had been nervous jitters in her stomach turned to churning waves. Instead of eating, they should stroll the museum first. Besides, she wasn't sure she could eat now anyway. She scooted back to the museum entrance to wait for Eric there.

He bounded up the steps of the Greek revival building, the collar of his overcoat turned up against today's gale force winds. She waved through the glass entrance doors, marveling at how handsome he was.

“Wow, you arrived before me. That's a first.” He kissed her quickly on the cheek.

Courtney chose not to comment on why she'd gotten there early. “I love this place, and it's been ages since I wandered through the collections. I thought we might go upstairs before lunch. They've added a few new portraits to the “Struggle for Justice” permanent exhibit.”

“Is that how you see your job, as a struggle for justice?” He half smiled.

“My stance isn't about justice, it's about personal responsibility.” Courtney took a deep breath. “And that's what I want to talk about.” She pointed to the broad marble staircase. “Let's go upstairs first.”

Entering the exhibit, Courtney picked up a flyer about the portraits in the “Struggle for Justice,” all of whom were major cultural and political figures—from key nineteenth century historical figures to contemporary leaders—who struggled to achieve civil rights for disenfranchised or marginalized groups. She led the way down a long corridor, stopping at the portrait of United Farm Workers organizer César Chávez.

“Interesting you should stop here.” Eric nodded to the portrait. “He's one of my heroes.”

“I'm not surprised.” Courtney reached for his hand. “Chavez devoted his life to the conditions of farmers, and that's what you do for your constituents.”

“I certainly try.”

Courtney took Eric's other hand, so they stood facing each other in front of the portrait. “I know your heart is in the right place, Eric, and you need to know that the way I feel about you has nothing to do with how you're going to vote on the tobacco tax.” She squeezed his hands. “There, I said it.”

Next thing she knew, Eric had pulled her into his arms. He breathed into her hair, that wonderful warm breath of his. She inhaled his glorious spicy scent as he said, “Courtney Larson, you're the best thing that ever happened to me.”

• • •

Courtney panicked when her phone chirped and a text from Eric popped up, congratulating her on the vote and saying he was on his way to her apartment. A mixture of excitement and dread gripped her when she heard the knock on the door. He'd voted against the tax, of course, and in an odd way, she was proud of him for his stand. She froze for a moment. Now that the vote had been decided, she'd have to come clean about the kind of relationship she needed. But in this moment, all she wanted was to be in his arms.

She flung the door open and then skidded into him on the icy stoop. He lost his footing, and they toppled together onto the sidewalk. Arms and legs tangled, they rolled, and then came to an abrupt stop at the boxwood hedge lining the walk. Courtney sat up, laughing. Eric bounded to his feet and helped her up.

“I guess you're not mad at me,” he said.

“Mad? Did you think I'd be mad?”

“I wasn't sure, but since your side won,” he smiled, “I'm the one who should be licking my wounds.”

“Are you licking your wounds?”

Eric pulled Courtney into his arms. He rested his chin on her head. “Oddly, I'm relieved. I felt duty bound to support my constituents, but the vote went the right way.”

Courtney looked up at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. And I want you to know that your campaign did have an impact on me. I'm going to crack down on growers who are spiking up nicotine in tobacco, and I'm going to try to get incentives for growers to begin planting hemp and other environmentally-friendly crops. I truly believe it's the best option for my constituents' long-term survival. I don't have much influence in the North Carolina General Assembly, but I'll encourage everyone I know in state office to fund tobacco prevention and cessation programs. It won't happen overnight, but I'm committed to making changes.”

“That's quite a confession, Senator.”

“It's nothing compared to what's coming.”

“What, now you're going to tell me that you have a wife and three children holed up in a Georgetown townhouse?” Courtney's heart raced. She was joking, but her tendency to prepare for bad news got the best of her.

“Of course not.” He tucked her head back under his chin and caressed her neck. “I'm going to tell you what I really want. I just hope you want the same thing.”

Courtney stiffened in his arms. Would this be the end of her hopes and dreams? Had he waited for this vulnerable moment with her high on the vote's victory to plead his case for BDSM? Had all his gentility been merely a ploy to get to this moment of truth? She hugged him tighter, wanting to prolong this last embrace before he found out she wasn't even close to the woman of his erotic dreams. She was a complete fraud. Well, she'd kept up the ruse as long as possible. Better face the inevitable.

Eric cleared his throat. “I'm in love with you, Courtney. I love you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I love you, and I want you, whenever you're ready to take the next step.”

When Courtney opened her mouth, her teeth started chattering, but she managed to say, “I love you, too.”

Eric laughed and hugged her tightly. “What say we continue this discussion inside?” He helped her up and they entered Courtney's townhouse. Just as she closed the door, it sprang open again. Helen bolted inside rubbing her arms from the cold, before she even noticed Eric and Courtney. When she saw them, she jumped, and then she looked closely at their expressions. “Uh, did I catch you two in the middle of something?” She held up a hand. “Wait, don't even tell me. I haven't been laid in so long, I don't think my heart could stand it. Just know that I'm happy for you two.” She looked back and forth at them again. “Oh, God, you probably want to be alone, and here I show up like a bad penny.”

“Actually, Helen, we were just leaving.” Courtney glanced at Eric.

Eric smiled. “Yeah, we're heading back to my place.”

“I'll just throw a couple of things in my overnight bag.” Courtney turned and ran up the stairs.

• • •

For two people who made a living through their powers of persuasion, they both seemed unable to utter a word on the drive to Eric's apartment. Courtney's heart was bursting with Eric's declaration of love, but they still hadn't settled the sex toys issue. She patted her overnight bag, which held her toothbrush, makeup, and a cute peach-colored teddy that Helen had given her in anticipation of this day. She hoped it would stand up to battle scars. She shivered.

“Cold?” Eric asked as he turned into his parking garage.

“No, just contemplating.”

“People don't usually shiver when they're contemplating. What's up?” He looked at her briefly before heading up the ramp.

“I was just wondering how important those riding crops are to your, uh, enjoyment?”

“I've only used them on rare occasions when I have a particularly stubborn filly.” Eric looked like he was stifling a grin. Courtney couldn't find the humor. Wait, did he say ‘filly?'

“I wasn't talking about your enjoyment of horses.”

“Oh, you mean the use of a riding crop as a sexual accoutrement?” Eric rubbed his chin. “Don't believe I've ever done anything like that.”

“What? You don't want someone who's into whips and chains?”

Eric turned off the ignition and angled toward Courtney. “Court, I want you. If you feel compelled to use some props, I'll be willing to give them a try because I love you. But my collection of riding crops is just that—a collection.”

“Wait a minute, what about that talk in Winston-Salem about you not having your toys with you?”

“That was to put you off. I didn't want to take you to bed under false pretenses, and I thought that if we made love before the vote, you'd think I was taking advantage of you.”

Courtney undid her seat belt and slid onto his bucket seat. “Eric Morrison, you are one hell of a guy.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly.

When they finally came up for breath, Eric said, “What say we go inside?”

“Beat you there.”

They were at the door of Eric's apartment in a record two minutes. Both breathless, they laughed as Eric fumbled with his key.

Once inside, Courtney said, “I've been wondering about the color scheme in your bedroom, Senator. Could I take a peek?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

The next thing Courtney knew, she was being led by hand down the hall. When they reached Eric's room, she glanced up at him before stepping through the door. The small muscle in his jaw began to tick as he walked her to the bed. He flicked on the bedside lamp, opened the drawer of the nightstand, and retrieved a condom. Courtney's heart beat in her ears.

Then he met her eyes, and any doubt floated out of the room. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. She took a deep breath.