Running Mate Page 9

  After huffing out a few breaths, I waited for the pain to subside before I added, “I’m aware you didn’t do it on purpose, but that doesn’t make it hurt less.”

  “I can only imagine.” Addison’s sympathetic expression flashed over to mortification. “I mean, I can’t imagine since I don’t have…uh, well, you know.”

  I chuckled at her embarrassment. “I know what you meant.”

  Ducking her head, she replied, “Good.”

  Once I fully recovered, I had the opportunity to notice the difference in her appearance. She’d changed into a pair of black yoga pants that molded to her legs and ass, and as a red-blooded American male, I would also like to note for the record just how fine said legs and ass looked. The view I’d previously had of her rack was hidden by an oversized purple sweatshirt emblazoned with the word Duke across the chest.

  Her long dark hair had been swept back into a ponytail, although a few errant strands lingered around her face. She was one of those chicks who looked beautiful no matter how she wore her hair. Hell, she’d probably still look good with a buzz cut.

  Damn, it was going to be a long nine months.

  Changing the subject, I asked, “What are you doing bringing your own bags up? There are bellmen for that, you know, not to mention a ton of my dad’s minions.”

  Addison opened her mouth to respond, but then a male voice responded before she could. “I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Monroe insisted on bringing up some of the luggage herself.”

  After glancing past Addison, I saw one of said minions, and he was laden down with bags. I raised my brows at Addison. “Not one for packing light, are you?”

  She blew a wandering strand of hair out of her face. “For your information, I’m leaving most of this here to be picked up on Monday by my brother. I assumed it made more sense to sort through what all I would need here, rather than at home.” Lowering her voice so the minion couldn’t hear, she added, “You know, since we’re supposed to be spending time together.”

  I nodded. After forcing a broad smile to my face, I said, “I’m glad you didn’t take too long.” I paused, knowing I needed some kind of endearing phrase about missing her to make it believable for the minion. The instant the thought entered my brain, I just went with it. “Cause I miss you, baby, and I don’t want to miss a thing.”

  Addison’s brows momentarily furrowed like she knew she’d heard that exact phrasing before, and she had if she’d ever listened to Aerosmith or watched the entertaining but implausible Armageddon. I tried very hard to stop the eye roll at my ridiculous comment. While I was sure the minion was thinking I was a giant douche, his face remained impassive.

  “I hate being away from you, too.” Before we could torture ourselves any more with a forced lovefest, Addison turned to the minion. “Let’s get these to the bedroom.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  She wagged a finger at him. “Now what did I say about you calling me ma’am?”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I know, I know. It slipped.”

  As I watched their banter, I noticed that Addison was actually friendly and approachable. She had no false airs or pretentiousness about her, which I guess made sense after what Dad had told me about her upbringing.

  At the thought of the file, I went over to the table and picked up the folder with our homework. I figured there was no time like the present to begin the torture. I mean, the sooner we got it over with, the sooner we could separate into our own corners in the suite.

  Addison and the minion emerged from the bedroom. “Thanks again for all your help, Zane.”

  Minion Zane flashed Addison a wide grin. “You’re more than welcome.”

  Returning his smile, Addison added, “I hope your daughter’s cold gets better.”

  “I hope so, too. If we have another sleepless night, I think my wife and I will be able to audition to be zombies.” Zane glanced over at me, adding, “Good afternoon, sir.”

  With a wave, I replied, “Same to you.” After the door closed behind him, I shook my head. “You managed to learn all that in barely two hours?”

  “You can learn a lot about someone in just ten minutes.” She cocked her head at me.

  “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to get to know some of the ‘minions’, as you call them.

  They’re not just nameless faces to do your bidding—they have lives outside the Callahan campaign.”

  Although I wanted to tell her where she could stick her holier-than-thou attitude, I knew she had a point. She sounded like my mom. Neither of my parents talked down to staff, and they never let me or my siblings do it either. “Okay. Fine.”

  Addison’s mouth gaped open in surprise. I knew she was shocked I hadn’t come back with some smartass remark. “Well, uh, good.”

  “But right now the only person I’m concerned about getting to know better is you.” I waved the folder in my hand. “This arrived while you were gone.”

  As Addison’s gaze zeroed in on the folder, both apprehension and curiosity flickered in her brown eyes. “What’s that?”

  “Our relationship homework.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Mimicking a game show host’s voice, I replied, “It’s a fun-filled packet of get-to-know-you activities to ensure we fool the public into believing we’re a loving, happy couple.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Addison said, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish.” I handed her the stapled packet with her name on it. Instead of sitting at the formal dining room table, I motioned for us to have a seat on the couch. A tense silence hung in the air as we began reading the instructions.

  “Hmm, we’re supposed to handle it like a reporter doing an interview,” Addison replied.

  “At least in this case, we’ll know the questions beforehand so they can’t stump us,” I mused before draining the rest of my beer.

  Addison paled slightly. “Are we going to be expected to give many off-the-cuff interviews?”

  “I’m sure Dad and his people will limit them as much as possible, at least in the beginning until we have more time to spend together.”

  “But what if we’re asked a question that’s not in here?”

  “I doubt that is a possibility considering Bernie’s thoroughness.” When Addison continued to chew on her bottom lip, I said, “We’ll just have to wing it. Whatever we have to spontaneously lie about will just become the truth.”

  “If you say so,” she murmured.

  Motioning to the folder, I said, “Come on. We might as well get started.”

  At the top of my page was a short biography on Addison, and she had the same on me. Basically, it was like the Personal Life section of a Wikipedia biography—the bare essentials. After I finished reading, it was pretty clear that Addison was a badass. I mean, I sure as hell didn’t know many girls who could say they could start a fire from sticks, teach English to native villagers, and graduate top of their class from an Ivy League school. I could see now why Dad and Bernie had been so impressed.

  After the brief biography, the remainder of the page was filled with the lame getting-to-know-you questions. When she saw that I was finished reading, Addison clicked her hotel pen. “Ready?”

  “Go for it.”

  "Favorite movie?"

  "The Godfather."

  With a smirk, Addison said, "Not surprising, but I would’ve also bet on it being Scarface—or maybe 9 ½ Weeks."

  I laughed. "Nope. The Godfather is in my top ten, along with Platoon and Saving Private Ryan.”

  “Are you a fan of war movies because of your dad?”

  “Not really. He likes to critique them more than anything, especially the ones about Vietnam.”

  She nodded. “My grandfather served in Korea and refused to watch any movies that even remotely referenced war. He said he’d had his fill of killing.”

  “I can see his point. Well, I guess I should say I understand his point. Obviously, I can’t speak from experience.” />
  She paused in doodling a flower in the margin of her packet. “It must be hard for you having a father and brother invested in the military and not be able to share those experiences.”

  Damn, had this chick minored in psychology or something? How could she possibly unearth that insecurity so quickly? Trying to play it off, I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Addison eyed me curiously. “If you hadn’t been disqualified from service because of your heart condition, would you have gone into the military?”

  “Of course.”

  “Because of family obligation?”

  “Yes, and because military service is a noble thing to do.”

  “You don’t impress me as the military type.”

  With a wink, I said, “Hey, I’d totally rock a crew cut, not to mention looking hot as hell in the uniform.”

  “I’m not talking about the look. I’m talking about your personality.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “It’s more like you lack the discipline required to take orders.”

  I narrowed my eyes back at her. “That’s a hell of a ballsy thing to say to someone you

  barely know.”

  Instead of shrinking back, Addison replied, “I’m just calling it as I see it based on several factors.”

  “Such as?”

  “Your internet persona for starters, not to mention what I’ve seen so far tonight.”

  “Let me set you straight—I’m one hell of a disciplined man, sweetheart. Don’t forget I earned a bachelor’s degree and an MBA from an Ivy League school, not to mention taking a failing division at The Callahan Corporation and making it one of the most successful in the company.”

  “I stand corrected,” Addison replied. Even though she seemed to be agreeing with me, I could tell she remained unimpressed. I didn’t know why I gave two shits about what she thought about me, but I did. I wanted her to see that there was far more to me than the image the media portrayed of me. Huh, that was a new one. Do I really care? She’ll be a nobody to me in nine months.

  “Let’s get back to the bullshit questionnaire, shall we?”

  “Fine.”

  “Now it’s your turn. What’s your favorite movie?”

  “The Sound of Music.”

  I groaned. “Christ. You’re one of those people, aren’t you?”

  “If you mean the type of people who enjoy culture through musical theater, then yes, I am one of those people.”

  My mother had tortured us with musicals when I was growing up, taking us on theater trips to New York City at least once a month during the fall and spring. It was hell. “There’s nothing more annoying than someone belting show tunes.”

  A wicked look flashed in Addison’s eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

  “I’m sure you will,” I grumbled as I glanced back down at the sheet. “Favorite type of music?”

  “Country and pop,” Addison replied.

  “Rap and rock for me.”

  “And here I thought you were going to say classical,” she teased as she scribbled my response down.

  “Actually, I am a fan of the symphony.”

  Addison’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.”

  “Let’s see if you throw me with your favorite food.”

  “Dim sum, preferably from Chinatown.”

  “Interesting. I would have thought maybe hotdogs and beer from Yankee Stadium.”

  “Those come in at a close second. What about you?”

  “Cornbread dressing like my grandmother makes.”

  “I prefer stuffing.”

  Addison tsked at me. “And you call yourself a Southerner.”

  “I might’ve grown up in Virginia, but my home is in New York.”

  Since I already knew her feelings about the city, Addison moved on to another question. "What is your ideal date?"

  "Fucking."

  She rolled my eyes. "Besides that."

  I shrugged. "I don't date a lot."

  "Surely you don’t meet a woman and immediately go horizontal—"

  "I limit being horizontal."

  Her brow creased in confusion. "Excuse me?"

  "I mean, I like to fuck outside the box."

  Pursing her lips at me, Addison countered, "I would assume you have to be inside the

  box, so to speak, for it to be considered fucking."

  I widened my eyes at her before bursting out laughing. Holy shit. Had Addison actually said that? Man, I had missed the mark with this girl. She was far from some boring prude with a stick up her ass. "That's a good one, but what I meant was the positions I like and where I like to fuck are outside the box."

  "Thank you so much for the clarification."

  "You're welcome."

  "And what I meant was there has to be some kind of lead-up before you just get to sex, like dinner or a movie."

  "Yeah. I do like to buy a woman dinner first."

  "How solicitous of you."

  With a wink, I said, “It’s more about the fact that they’re going to need the nutrition to keep up with my stamina.”

  She slowly shook her head back and forth at me. “You know, it’s amazing the way your sex-obsessed brain works. Like how is it possible you’re even able to keep a job?”

  “I’m very good at multitasking.”

  “Let me guess, there’s some underlying innuendo there?”

  I laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Typical.” After flipping a page on the questionnaire, Addison’s eyes suddenly bulged.

  “Oh. My. God,” she hissed.

  “What does it say?”

  “Something truly horrible and disgusting.”

  “What?” I questioned before peering at the sheet to see what could possibly be so repulsive.

  “They suggest we practice embracing and holding hands to ensure familiarity.”

  With a frustrated roll of my eyes, I closed the folder and tossed it onto the table. “I can’t believe you got your panties in such a twist over something as simple as holding hands and hugging.”

  “That’s not it.” She jabbed the folder with her index finger. “They want us to…” She shuddered.

  “What? Sacrifice a virgin? Rob a bank?”

  “Kiss.”

  “What’s the big deal with that?”

  Addison stared at me like I was a mutant. “I don’t know you.”

  “You know more about me than most women when I kiss them.”

  “Unlike you, I’m far more discerning about who I kiss.”

  “Why? It’s just a pair of lips rubbing together.” I flicked my tongue suggestively back and forth. “And there’s that.”

  “Spare me.”

  I winked. “I will—just this once.”

  “Look, I know it’s probably difficult for your mind to absorb, but kissing is a very intimate action.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked my head at her. “Speaking of action, you might be a hell of lot less uptight if you got more of it, and I mean kissing at the very least.”

  I watched with amusement as Addison’s face turned from cherry red to eggplant purple. It seemed like steam might shoot out of her ears at any moment.

  She jabbed a finger in my chest. “Let’s get one thing straight here: whatever action I do or don’t get is none of your business or concern.”

  “Actually, my dear fiancée, it is my concern.” When I placed my right hand on her shoulder, her upper lip curled in disgust, so I removed it. “Look, you can’t argue with the facts. Everyone needs a good fucking from time to time. It’s a good stress reliever.”

  “How do you manage to twist everything to make it about sex? We were just talking about kissing, nothing remotely close to anything so physically extreme.”

  “Hey, I just made an observation based on your response. It’s not my fault you’re a tad frigid.”

  A growl erupted from Addison’s lips, and for a moment, I thought she might lunge at me like a rabid dog out for blood. Instead, sh
e tossed the folder down on the table before stomping over to the minibar. Color me surprised when she grabbed a bottle of Jack and a Coke. She kicked the fridge door shut and then grabbed one of the monogrammed Jefferson glasses to mix the drink. Turning around, she held my eye as she proceeded to drain the cup. After swiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she slammed the glass down. Closing her eyes, she shuddered as the alcohol reverberated through her system.

  Seconds passed before she opened her eyes. “Okay. Now I think I can actually speak to you again without wanting to choke you.”

  “Well, choking me would involve touching, which is part of our homework.”

  The corners of Addison’s lips twitched. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Barrett.”

  “I will take that as both an insult and a compliment.”

  Addison laughed. “I would expect nothing less.”

  “So, what should we start with?”

  After pursing her lips in thought, Addison replied, “Holding hands, then hugging—that way we can work up to the kissing.” She said the word kissing with the same disdain as someone would say toxic waste. Was she that repulsed by me? Or was she really the prude I thought her to be? The way she just threw back that drink… I’d never had any trouble reading women, but this one had me baffled.

  Taking the initiative, I closed the remaining gap between us. Once we stood directly in front of each other, I said, “Hold your hands up.”

  Addison eyed me warily before complying. When I smacked them with mine like girls did on the playground in elementary school, she snorted. “Seriously?”

  “Baby steps.”

  She must’ve liked my tactic because she started hitting my hands back. Just as her brows furrowed in a Is he going to keep this bullshit up all night? look, I stopped my hands in midair. After she did the same, I reached out to curl my fingers around hers. Just like that, we were officially joined. “Holding hands accomplished,” I said with a grin.

  Although I could tell it slightly pained her, Addison smiled back at me. “Okay. Now let’s tackle the hugging,” she suggested.

  Or I could just tackle you and give you the mercy fuck you’re dying for. ‘Gagging for a shag’ is what Ty would probably say; I decided it was best to keep that thought to myself.