At the Pleasure of the President (The Perfect Gentlemen 5)

“I nearly destroyed myself trying to save her, you, our baby—everyone. Don’t think I don’t understand how much she’s been hurting.” Mad sighed, trying to hold himself together. “But I get your anger. When I heard you talking about Everly that day in my office, I saw red. I’m just glad you two worked it out. Congratulations, man.”

Mad turned away. He needed to decompress. He needed sleep—preferably in an actual bed. It would be the first time in months. Maybe everything would seem brighter in the morning.

Gabe grabbed his arm. “Mad, stop. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I should have talked to you that day we had lunch instead of yelling. And I should have had a little faith in you.” He held a hand out. “I am glad you’re alive. I’m happy to have you back.”

Mad stared at the hand. It could be a trick. “So you can kill me?”

“So you can be a father to your kid. So I’m not left alone with all these women.” Gabe tried to laugh, then sobered. “So I can maybe find a way to be your brother again.”

Mad reached out and shook his hand. Repairing all his relationships wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d assumed, but he was determined to get his family back, especially Sara. No one in the world knew or loved him like she did.

Gabe pulled him in for a hug, slapping his back. “I really am glad you’re back. I didn’t like living in a world without you, man.”

Mad had missed them all, too. He hated the fact that he hadn’t been there when so many of them had gotten their shit together and committed to the loves of their life. Sure, he’d watched from afar, but he’d missed out on so much. “I hated that I missed your wedding. Tell me Connor and Dax gave you a proper bachelor party.”

Gabe was smiling when he stepped back. “Not even one stripper.”

The horror. “Maybe we should have an all-guys post-wedding bash.”

A chuckle huffed from Gabe’s throat. “Nope. I’ve been happily married and stripper free for a while now. It’s a good life, man.”

Yes, Mad wanted that life, too—with Sara. “I’d like mine to be all about us. Just the six of us hanging out with the wives and kids.”

“Hey, I’ll make that happen if you can actually convince my sister to forgive you. But I’m telling you now, it’s not going to be easy.”

Sara was the most forgiving soul he’d ever met. Once he told her why he’d left her and the lengths he’d gone to in order to save her, there was a chance the two of them could pick up where they had left off, right? Maybe…

“I’ll go and see her soon. I’ll explain and grovel like nobody’s business. I swear.” The minute it was safe, Mad vowed he would be on her doorstep, hat in hand, ready to love her for the rest of his life.

“You know we’re bringing in all the women, right?”

Mad froze. “What do you mean?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull into the drive, but he couldn’t think about that at the moment. He was too busy trying to decipher Gabe’s words into sense. “But not Sara. She’s at the house in the Hamptons.”

Gabe shook his head. “She came down to DC this morning. The women decided to spend some time together while Zack, the rest of the guys, and I hung out here. When you showed up, Zack told the Secret Service to bring them all in. They’ll be here any minute. I think I should talk to Sara first, lessen the shock.”

But it was too late because that limo door was opening and she stepped out. Mad stopped breathing. God, she was beautiful. The sun was setting and the golden light reflected off her hair, enhancing the riot of colors. He’d always been fascinated by how lovely her hair looked, how silky it felt wrapped around his fingers when they shared pleasure. The color wasn’t precisely brown or blonde, but a combination, coupled with an alluring hint of red that sparkled in the light.

She turned toward Everly, and he saw the curve of her rounding stomach, the proof that their child grew inside her. Mad felt rooted. His heart threatened to stop. He loved her so fucking much, and he was going to love that kid every bit as much.

If she let him.

Oh, god. She was here. Now. He didn’t have a speech planned. He didn’t know what to say. He only knew he was terrified that she didn’t love him anymore.

“Mad, get inside before she sees you,” Gabe urged. “Sara can’t find out like this.”

He was right, but then Everly caught sight of him. She blinked like he might be a mirage. Then she raised her arm and pointed his way. His name formed on her lips.

Sara turned. Her eyes widened. She gaped in shock. She paled. Then she was falling.

Mad raced to reach her, praying like hell he hadn’t fucked everything up.

Chapter Four

Sara was having the sweetest dream. She was back in New York, dressed and looking her best for the Met gala with Mad. This time, the night was so special and she wasn’t left waiting. He even showed up early.

I couldn’t wait. I had to see you. I don’t like spending the night away from you.

She turned to him and smiled. Then maybe you should move in.

His lips curled up, part triumph, part mischief—all Mad. Done. I won’t ever go home again. He paused then, growing serious. You are my home. You and this short stack of pancakes.

You are not calling our child a short stack.

He touched her belly. I’ll call that baby ours.

Sara melted. She didn’t want to wake up. This dream was the sweetest of her regularly recurring ones. She rotated between slumberous fantasies where she and Mad were still in love and nightmares where she was on the plane with him as it was going down. Either way, when she woke up she had to face the fact that he hadn’t shown up that night. He’d texted her his cruel kiss off. And every morning when she opened her eyes, she had to remember that he was dead and he would never know their baby, much less give their little one nicknames that would horrify her as a teenager. Mad was gone, and Sara had finally accepted that he had never loved her.

But even though it wasn’t real, she always wished she could linger in the lovely paradise of sleep for more stolen moments with him.

“I’ll take care of her,” a familiar voice she couldn’t quite place said.

“Holland said she’s fine,” her brother put in. “She’s just had a shock, but she didn’t hit the ground, thanks to Everly. I’m wondering if we should have a doctor look at her, just in case.”

“Absolutely,” said that male voice that niggled at her brain. “Or maybe we should medevac her.”

Oh, god, that was not happening.

Sara sat up, her vision still blurred and her head swimming. She must have fainted, but now she remembered why.

She’d seen a ghost.

After climbing from the limo, the sun had been at her back, and she would have sworn in that halo of blinding light that Maddox stood mere feet away. Sara felt sheepish now. It was one thing to have dreams about him at night, but if she was carrying those over to her days? That nonsense had to stop. “I’m sorry to make a fuss. I’m okay. I thought I saw—”

She turned and focused. And he was there. Not a mirage, not a hallucination. Maddox Crawford in the flesh.

Sara stared, blinked. “Oh my god.”

He rushed to her side,

kneeling beside the bed and taking her hands in his. “Baby, are you okay? I saw you falling out there and I couldn’t reach you in time. I was so worried. We should get you to a hospital. I know Holland has some medic training, but she’s not an obstetrician.”

She closed her eyes. “I must still be dreaming.”

“You’re not.” He curled his hands around hers. “I’m really here.”

He looked like Mad, had the same piercing green eyes and dark hair as Mad. He even talked like Mad. She now recognized that smooth and deep voice. It had an almost intimate quality when he spoke to her. But this man couldn’t be Mad. His hair was longer, curling over his ears. His hands weren’t smooth and perfectly manicured, but rather rough and callused and stronger. His gaze held no hint of his usual devil-may-care spirit. Instead it glinted with terrible knowledge and an even more excruciating yearning.

“Say something. I know this must be a shock, but I’m here. I’m alive. And I can explain everything.”

What was there to explain? Before they’d gotten together, Sara had been convinced he was a spoiled rich playboy who took nothing seriously. That’s how the rest of the world had seen him. But when he’d flirted and smiled and touched her, when he’d whispered and kissed her and made love to her, she’d seen a whole different Mad.

No, she’d seen a façade. That soft, loving Maddox Crawford was a chimera. The one who’d texted her his unfeeling sayonara? That was the real Mad.

She put a hand on her belly and forced herself to sit up. She was in a bedroom apparently. She’d never been to Camp David before, but it was tastefully decorated, like everything surrounding the president. The room was fairly large, too. It needed to be since every single person in her life was currently here and crowding around her. “I’m confused.”

Holland moved in, eyes soft with understanding. “Sweetie, you fainted.”