Page 61 of The Marriage Game

I have the fleeting thought that I should talk to someone about all of this. I’m in a men’s group, after all. The whole point is to process things like this together. I don’t want to sound completely insecure, though. That’s not manly.

Pray, a soft voice whispers, but I ignore it as a louder one drowns it out. I need to stop complaining about him being better than me and actually do something to change that. I remember my long ago notion to do something political and grab hold of the idea like it’s the lifeline I’ve been looking for.

I get out of bed and retrieve my laptop. Then I get to work researching. It doesn’t take me long to find the position I want: state senator. Less traveling and time away from the family, but still a good amount of prestige. I lose myself in reading about the process and the more I read, the more excited I get.

Jill rolls over, looking groggily up at me. “What time is it?” she asks.

I glance at the corner of my screen. “2:30 in the morning.”

“You’re up at 2:30 in the morning?”

I shrug. “I couldn’t sleep.”

She slides up into a sitting position. “You look funny,” she say, peering at me. “Like you’re excited or you’ve got a fun secret.” She puts a hand on my arm. “You’re practically vibrating withit.” She raises her eyebrows, eyes darting between my face and my laptop. “What are you working on?” she demands.

I guess now is as good a time as any to tell her. A sudden bout of nerves overtakes me. What if she thinks this is a bad idea? Or worse—what if she laughs?

Before I can decide my next move, though, Jill lunges at me, grabbing my laptop with unexpected swiftness.

“Hey!” I start to protest, but she’s already seen enough to figure out my plan. I can tell by the slight widening of her eyes as she scans the screen. She doesn’t even fight me when I reach over to take my computer back. My heart is beating loudly in my ears as I wait for her to say something.

“You want to run for state senate?” she asks.

“Maybe,” I hedge. Then sigh. “You think it’s crazy, don’t you?”

“Not at all.” She shakes her head, her blue eyes shining. “I think it’s an amazing idea. You’ll be a brilliant senator.”

Relief surges through me, and I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Will be?” I say with a shaky chuckle. “I haven’t won yet.”

“Pshh.” Jill waves this away. “But of course you will. No question.” There’s so much belief in her eyes as she smiles at me that I forget all about Tucker Campbell. Jill believes in me. That’s a powerful thing. Another idea strikes me, brilliant in its simplicity. I set my laptop down on my bedside table and turn to her. She hasn’t mentioned this part of her life plan in a long time, so maybe she’s forgotten about it. But maybe not. “What if you were my campaign manager?” I ask her. She looks stunned by the question, and I start to worry I’ve upset her. “It was only an idea,” I backtrack quickly. “I know you love your job—”

“I would love to be your campaign manager,” she interrupts me breathlessly.

“You would?”

“Yes!” She bounces a little on the bed. “Oh this is going to be so great! I have so many ideas! I can picture the yard signs we’ll make and the ads we’ll run! Of course we’ll do buttons! It’s going to be great! Oh, Max, I’m so excited!”

I laugh, loving her enthusiasm. She looks so gorgeous sitting there, her hair mussed from sleep and the thin strap of her tank top sliding off her shoulder. My eyes catch on the skin of her exposed shoulder and I lose my breath.

Jill notices my staring and her cheeks heat. At first I think she might tell me it’s too late to do anything, but to my immense pleasure she moves toward me.

“What’s on your mind, senator?” she asks coyly. A growl escapes my mouth and I pull her the rest of the way over to me.

“You,” I tell her. “You’re on my mind.”

Then I kiss my new campaign manager—just to make things official.

Chapter 24

Max

OnesecondJilliskissing me, really kissing me, and I’m mentally calculating how far away we are from our cabin and the next I’m being drenched in cold water. Metaphorically anyway.

In all actuality it’s just the grating sound of Tucker Campbell wolf-whistling.

Jill and I break apart to see him and his wife standing there, wide smiles on their faces.

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