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  Interesting reaction. Now I want to know what Lachlan knows. I almost laugh, but he doesn’t see anything funny about this situation, so I’m not going to push any more of his buttons tonight. I take a deep breath. “He told me he’s not looking for anything serious. So you can—”

  “You deserve serious.”

  “I want fun. And besides, how am I supposed to find someone to get serious about when you keep cock-blocking me?”

  “That’s—” He cuts himself off. A muscle twitching in his cheek is the only reaction I get. It’s probably the only one he can’t control.

  What, he doesn’t like me accusing him cock-blocking?

  Well, I don’t like anything about this. And frankly, if he’s going to be this difficult, I don’t know why I’m holding back. He came to me. He got in my face about this, and now I’m going to blast him right back.

  I jam my finger into his chest. “You know what? If Hugh wants to use me for sex, that’s just fine. He can use me like that any time he wants.”

  “Beth…”

  “And you really should know that it didn’t feel like he was using me when he kissed me.” I drop my voice. “It felt good. He felt good.”

  He groans deep in his throat. I jab my finger at him again, but my hand is shaking now, and it skips off the hard planes of his broad chest. He grabs my wrist, holding me still.

  “You can’t tell me who to kiss,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

  “I know.” His voice is equally ragged, but he’s not shaking at all. He’s tense all over. Tense and big and suddenly, right up against me. His mouth crushes against mine, the kiss demanding and primal, and before I can stop myself I’m kissing him back.

  It’s messy and confusing. It’s also probably wrong, but oh my God, Lachlan is kissing me. It’s totally different from Hugh’s kiss.

  But it feels just as right.

  Before I can stop it, I’m dragged into the feelings of it, the hunger and bite, the desperate need zinging between us.

  A kiss a year in the making.

  A kiss that should have happened for a hundred other reasons, not insane jealousy. But I don’t care, I’ll take this however I can get it.

  And before I can get enough, it’s a kiss that ends with a curse.

  Lachlan drags himself back, and I find myself following him. No. He shakes his head and I skid to a halt.

  No, no, no, I want to scream at him, but he’s backing away just as fast as he came at me.

  I watch, regret building inside me so fast it hurts, as he lurches backwards and turns, letting himself out of my apartment without a word of explanation or apology or even rejection.

  Nothing.

  Communication has never been his strong suit, but this kind of takes the fucking cake.

  Men.

  Two kisses in one night.

  Two men who couldn’t be more different. Now what the hell do I do?

  4

  Lachlan

  Everything I’ve done—well, everything I haven’t done—in the last year would point to me being a coward.

  I’m not.

  The first thing I do when I arrive at Centre Block the next morning is head to the PM’s office. Beth is already at her desk.

  Her eyes go wide with surprise when she sees me stalk through the doorway.

  I give her a terse smile. “Morning.”

  That’s all I can say right now, and we both know it.

  Her lips part. Fuck me, now I know what they taste like, and I want another hungry go at her more than anything else in the world. I’m not a coward, but I am weak. I let my gaze linger on her mouth until she purses her lips disapprovingly. Then I jerk my eyes back up to meet hers.

  Right. The whole point of me marching in here was to show that what happened last night didn’t affect our working relationship. Or, I hope, our friendship, but that might be wishful thinking.

  I’ve already reviewed Gavin’s schedule for the day, so I know he’s got a few minutes before his morning briefing, and I have a message that he needs to talk to me at some point today. I’m just not sure if now is a good time, and Beth holds that magic bit of information. “Can I steal five minutes with him?”

  She tips her head to the side and gives me a wary look. “Depends what it’s about.”

  It’s not about firing a certain member of my security staff who also got to kiss Beth last night. I get hot under the collar again. Yeah. Very weak. I’m both pissed and turned on.

  “It’s about his wedding,” I say through gritted teeth.

  “Ah!” Her entire expression lightens, like she’s grateful we’re able to move past last night, too. “Right. I have a note here from the hotel for you…” She reaches across her desk and grabs a light purple file folder. She hands it over, her eyes now twinkling, and relief washes over me.

  “Purple?”

  She nods pertly. “Lavender is the wedding colour. So I bought special file folders for the occasion.”

  “You’re enjoying this.” A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. God, I want to say so much more. Tell her how confused I am, how wrong I know it was to kiss her when she’s decided to date Hugh.

  I don’t think he’s going to be good enough for her, but she’s right—she can handle herself and she’s going into whatever it is with him with her eyes wide open.

  “You wearing the wedding coordinator tiara?” She blinks up at me innocently. “What’s not enjoyable about that?”

  “I’m coordinating logistics from a security perspective.”

  She nods sagely. “For sure. I think today’s topic is whether or not they need an east coast food item on the menu since they have B.C. salmon and Alberta beef.”

  Fuck me. I take a deep breath. “What time is the conference call with the actual wedding coordinators in Squamish?”

  She beams. “Noon. So you’ve got lots of time to talk to both Gavin and Ellie about this and round up some ideas.”

  “This wasn’t what I was expecting this to be about.”

  Another nod. “I know. When Gavin said he needed someone to handle this, though…”

  “You didn’t want to do it?” I regret the words the second they’re out of my mouth.

  She doesn’t have a big reaction. She doesn’t need to. Beth is a master at subtle shade. She’d never make a scene outside the prime minister’s office, so she knows how to smoothly and politely shut people down.

  She reaches for a pen, one with a clicky top, and flicks her thumb against the button. “You’d best go in,” she says, no longer looking at me. “He’s expecting you.”

  “Beth…”

  Her hair is neatly tucked behind her ears this morning, smooth and shiny. She reaches up and pretends to tuck one side again. Then she straightens the lapels on her jacket. She’s wearing a suit today, pants and jacket over a buttoned-down men’s-style shirt. Like she knew she’d need armour today. Maybe she couldn’t have anticipated I’d come in here and make a jackass suggestion about her being a woman and more wedding-interested, but after last night, I’ve definitely shown my hand, and it’s not welcome.

  She wasn’t wrong. She’d needed that armour because I’d trounced all over the perfectly acceptable boundaries she’d worked so hard to construct.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, leaning in. “That was stupid of me.”

  She glances up at me, and her glittering hazel eyes soften. “Maybe you had other things on your mind and forgot not to be sexist,” she whispers.

  She’d never make a scene. But she wouldn’t pull her punches if she knew they’d land silently.

  “I definitely had other things on my mind,” I admit. “But that’s no excuse.”

  “We should talk about those other things.” She presses her lips together. “At some point.”

  Before I can answer her, Gavin swings the door to his office open. “Beth, do you know—oh, Lachlan. Good, you’re here. Come on in. I can’t believe how many questions keep flying back at me about this thing.”


  I clear my throat. “This thing? Your wedding is a big deal.”

  “Getting married is a big deal. The wedding is what it is because of who I am.”

  “Fair enough.” I grab the purple file folder and follow him into his office. I’ve always liked this space. Wood-panelled and with secret doors, it’s big enough to hold his daily briefings with the senior staff, but also comfortable enough to talk, just the two of us.

  He sits behind his desk and grabs his travel mug of coffee. “Okay, so you get the deal, right?”

  “About the food?” I flip the folder open. “Beth gave me a bit of a rundown, but I’ll need to follow-up…maybe with the protocol people? And your communication staff?”

  He grimaces. “I’d really rather avoid pulling too many staffers onto this. You need to be liaising with them for security stuff, so I know pushing back on menu details is way outside your area of expertise, but…”

  Ah. I get it. “You don’t want to be accused of using your staff to plan a personal event.”

  “I don’t want to use my staff to plan a personal event.” He gives me a wry look. “Although avoiding the appearance of impropriety is always good, too. Just…talk to the wedding people. Find out how many more of these types of questions there are going to be, and do I need to privately hire a wedding coordinator at this end.”

  “Beth says that’s my role.”

  He laughs. “Well, if she said it, it must be true. You know who’s really in charge.”

  For a second, I think about telling him everything. We have a unique relationship, and if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Gavin wouldn’t judge the complicated dynamics I’ve got going on with Beth and Hugh.

  But in exactly the same way as the PM can’t use his staff to plan his wedding, it would be beyond inappropriate for me to use my boss as a personal kink and relationship counsellor.

  “Okay, I’m on it. I’ll talk about security concerns often enough to make the call legitimately within my purview, and get a clearer picture on why they seem so over-their-heads on planning a VIP wedding.”

  “Perfect.” He takes another sip of coffee. “Missed you at pick-up this morning. I thought we might talk about this on the drive.”

  “I had a late night last night, so I switched the schedule.”

  “Hot date?” He gives me a hard look.

  Hot something. “It’s complicated.”

  His face tightens into the now very familiar don’t-break-Beth’s-heart look. Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t be an objective relationship counsellor after all. “You should come over for a beer soon.”

  I can’t refuse, but I can fight dirty. “I’ll bring all the wedding details with me.”

  He groans, then laughs. “Well played. Actually, it would be good to go over everything together. Ellie’s been really chill about all the planning, but we’re getting close now, so…yes. Good idea.”

  There’s a knock at the door. My cue to leave.

  His staff file in as I rise, and we exchange a quick handshake while the conversation shifts around me to topics that are more befitting the prime minister. A new trade deal with the European Union and an upcoming First Ministers Meeting with the provincial leaders.

  After I check in with my teams, I go over the material sent from the wedding venue. I quickly realize that the problem lies with the bride and groom not answering some basic questions. Well, that’s easily enough fixed.

  I head over to the University of Ottawa where Gavin’s fiancée, Ellie, is a PhD candidate.

  I find her in her cramped office, reading what looks like an academic journal. I knock on the door frame.

  She jumps, and I laugh. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  She sets the journal down and waves me in. “No, it’s fine. I may have dozed off there. What’s up?”

  “I sent you an email…”

  She winced. “I’ve been ignoring the internet today.”

  “No worries.” I hold up the purple—lavender—file folder. It makes me think of Beth, and therefore it’s actually my favourite thing about today, complicated shit aside. “I’ve been designated the unofficial wedding coordinator for this end, and I’ve got some quick questions for you.”

  “I’m sorry.” She drops her head into her hands. “It’s just that one wedding thing leads to a hundred other wedding things, and suddenly entire days get consumed with the stuff. So we’ve kind of been dodging it.”

  “At least you recognize that,” I tease as I fold myself into the wooden chair across from her desk. It’s terribly uncomfortable, and I tell her as much.

  She winks. “It keeps student visits short.”

  “That’s evil.” I clear my throat and open the file folder. “Now. Your wedding is happening in less than two months, and the menu hasn’t been finalized.” I hand over a piece of paper that I’ve scrawled all over. “I’m not a foodie, exactly, but from the options they suggest, this is what I think would work best for you and your guests.”

  She scans down the page, nodding. When she reaches my favourite suggestion, she starts giggling. She glances up at me. “Fanny Bay oysters?”

  “It’s important to have food from across the country,” I say with a straight face.

  “Oh, Lachlan. You do get us, don’t you?” She gives me a warm look.

  “I try.”

  She grabs a pen. “My only addition to this would be that I’d like more of the cheese to come from Quebec, s’il vous plait.”

  “Consider it done.”

  From the university, I head to the protocol office where I unofficially ask some advice from their staff. Their recommendation is for the PM to ask the Ethics Commissioner to review the wedding plans. Oh, he’s going to hate that.

  So instead of talking to him about it again, I head to the Ethics Commissioner’s office myself, where I make an appointment to return the next day.

  I don’t get back to my office at Parliament until dinner time. The PM has already left for his official residence at 24 Sussex Drive, so I review the day’s reports. Then I call over to the residence and speak to the constable on duty, who confirms the PM and Ellie are in for the night.

  “They’ve ordered pizza for dinner,” he adds, and I laugh.

  “Of course they did. I could go for some pizza myself. Thanks.” I hang up and rock back in my chair.

  From the doorway, someone clears his throat.

  I sit up and open my eyes.

  Hugh is leaning against the doorframe. “Evening.”

  I nod. “Just finished reading the reports. Easy day today.”

  He nods too, then glances behind him.

  I grit my teeth.

  That doesn’t stop him. Once he’s checked that nobody else is around, he goes straight for the kill. “So I went on a date with Beth yesterday.”

  “I’m aware. I was there when you whisked her off.”

  He glares right back. “And you were there when I returned her safely home again.”

  Ah. So he’d seen me. Fine. “You can’t blame me for being worried.”

  “Afraid of what I’d do to her?”

  Heat slams into me at that thought. Hugh doing Beth is stuff of my darkest fantasies. “We’re not doing this.”

  He laughs quietly under his breath. “Did you get a goodnight kiss last night, too? Are you all full of complicated feelings?”

  I get to my feet. “Jesus Christ. You still don’t have any fucking boundaries, do you?”

  “There was a time when you enjoyed that about me.”

  I round my desk, ready to do battle. “And that had consequences, didn’t it? Leave Beth alone.”

  “That’s not your call to make.”

  “No, it’s hers, but you haven’t given her all the relevant information, have you?”

  His jaw tightens and his eyes flash as he squares right up to me. Oh, I’ve struck a nerve. His voice goes silky. “What exactly do you think I should tell her before a first date?”

  Silence pulses between us.


  He moves in closer. “Does she know how much you like to be on your knees?”

  My mouth goes dry and my pulse hammers at the base of my throat.

  “Does she know how rock solid you get grinding against a muscular ass?”

  I shove him hard in the chest, pushing him back. “Shut up.”

  “Still in the closet?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  It means that aside from group stuff, I haven’t been with another man since him. I’m not giving him that much power over me. “She knows I’m pretty fluid in what I like. She knows about my kinks. Who I like to fuck isn’t something we’ve discussed because I respect her.”

  “You don’t think I respect her?”

  “I think you’re using her. So, no.”

  “You’ve got it wrong.” He steps closer again, his chest brushing mine. He’s two inches shorter than me, which compared to how delicate Beth is feels like nothing. Everything lines up. Chests. Mouths.

  Cocks.

  He’s growing hard even as I yell at him. I’m not immune to the tension between us, either.

  “I don’t think I do,” I say quietly, my voice coarse. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You shouldn’t play with Beth’s feelings when…”

  “Say it.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Any time. My door is always open for you.” He sets his hands on my hips and sweet fucking mercy, that feels so good. My knees practically wobble as desire stabs through me. Every inch of him is solid. Thick. The first time we kissed, it was like a boxing match on steroids. There are things I can do to Hugh—and things he can do to me—that just don’t work with a woman.

  Beth.

  Her name whispering in my mind is like a splash of ice water.

  “Come on,” he whispers. “Gimme your mouth.”

  “No.”

  “Lachlan…”

  Fucking hell. “Not now.” No, that’s not what I meant to say. I should say, no, never, but I know deep down the word never won’t cross my lips when it comes to Hugh.

  5

  Beth