The words begin to swim on the page of the proposal sitting in front of me. I’ve been working nonstop since before sunrise and I can’t possibly read another sentence.

I sit back, trying to decide on coffee or an energy drink, when a rough knock sounds and the door swings open.

“Hey, Barrett,” Lincoln says, Graham on his heels.

“I thought you were leaving today.” I say.

“Nah, I figure I’ll stay awhile. My shoulder is pretty sore, and if I go back to Tennessee, I’ll try to train with the guys and that’ll fuck it up worse than it is,” he winces, rolling his shoulder around.

Standing, I do a little stretching of my own. It feels good to move, to get some blood flowing.

I didn’t sleep worth shit last night, my mind running from the election to Alison and back again. By three a.m., I realized that the problem with Alison lies in the fact that she’s simply not mine. And the fact that I’m bothered by this little technicality fucks with me.

The realization had me hitting the bottle of Jack a little heavy in the wee hours of the morning. This isn’t the time or the place for me to decide to start thinking about monogamy. That ruins men. Clips their nuts, drains their testosterone, destroys the very things that make politicians good politicians.

I am a politician.

I need my nuts ... buried in her.

Groaning, I look up at my brothers. Linc has made himself at home in my fridge, an apple in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Graham is sitting across from my desk, watching me.

“Before we get to what I came here for, let’s get this over with,” Graham sighs. “How deep are you in?”

“Deep in what?”

“Alison Baker.”

“I’ll tell you how deep I’d be in that,” Linc says, taking a bite of the apple.

I glare at him and he just shrugs.

“I’m not,” I say carefully.

Graham doesn’t buy it because he’s not stupid. “Do I need to run a background check?”

“I know everything about her,” I promise.

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “How can you? You’ve known her for what? A week?”

“Okay,” I relent, “I don’t know what her favorite color is, but—”

“Do you know what her pussy feels like?” Linc interrupts.

“Shut up, Linc,” Graham and I say in unison. He snaps another bite of his fruit.

I sigh, trying to figure out how to skirt the issue. I know what he’s going to say and he’s right. I need to be smart. But I also need to figure out a way to make this work.

“I know I need to watch my image.”

He nods and stands. “Yeah, you do. We’ve worked our tails off to get you to this place. You’re on the cusp of achieving something no one in our family has done since our grandfather, and if you can get there, you have a chance at the White House eventually. This is not the time to take risks, brother. Not in this department.”

I turn my back to him. I don’t want him to see the look of frustration on my face. This is not a conversation we’ve had before. Usually it’s him telling me to stop fucking a chick, and I laugh and agree. But this isn’t that. I haven’t even fucked her.

I’m the one that’s getting fucked.

“Look,” Graham says, his voice overly calm, “I get that you kind of like this girl. She’s hot, she seems sweet, she’s got a great kid.”

“Smart kid,” Linc chips in, laughing.

“But can’t it wait a few weeks until this thing is over?”

Graham’s question is cut short by another knock and the opening of the door. Nolan rushes in, his glasses hanging off the end of his long nose. A stack of files in his hand, his suit looking rumpled, he drops into a chair beside my brother.

“Can’t what wait a few weeks?” he asks, looking from one of us to the other.

I shoot Graham a look. “A vacation. Lincoln wants to go to Australia and swim with the sharks.”

He chokes on his apple.

“Good,” Nolan says, flipping open a folder. “I thought you were talking about some girl you were seen with at the game last night.”

My cheeks heat. “What do you know about that?”

“People tell me things,” Nolan says. “This isn’t my first walk in the park ... or ballpark, either. I’m sure Graham is in here now trying to talk some sense into you, warning you to keep your nose clean. And he’s right, Barrett. There’s way too much riding on this for you to be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid,” I protest. I glance at Lincoln and he rolls his eyes, his disdain for Nolan palpable. “I’m just friendly with her. That’s all.”

“Keep it that way. She’s divorced, had assault charges leveled at her in New Mexico by a member of the press.” Nolan takes his glasses off and looks at me like he’s won some victory.

I narrow my gaze. “I understand you’re doing this because it’s your job. But I need you to back the fuck off, okay?”

My head spins with this new information, but I can’t let him see that. It’ll show a ding in my armor and I don’t want him trying to exploit it. Still, I’m shocked at his accusation and wonder if it’s true and, if it is, what the story is behind it.

“I’m going to assume,” he mocks, pulling his hand away from his face, “that you’re going to listen to your brother.” He looks at Graham and Lincoln. “Graham. Not that one,” he says, nodding to Linc. “And stop this before it causes us a lot of problems to fix. Years of work have boiled down to this moment, Barrett. Don’t blow it for, well, a blow.”

I laugh, but Nolan blanches at the anger laced none too quietly in the sound. “Here’s your problem,” I say through gritted teeth. “You know nothing about Alison other than the secondhand, or maybe thirdhand, information you’ve acquired through your back channels. And you, of all people, should know just how many times they get the facts right.”

“Are you defending her?” he asks, his brows lifted.

“Yeah, I’m fucking defending her. She’s a good person and it pisses me off to hear you act like she’s some kind of cheap date.”

“Let’s be honest,” Nolan says, standing, “that’s your typical method of operation.”

“I—” I start, but Graham stops me before I get going.

“Let’s all just settle down,” my brother says, looking me in the eye. “Our focus needs to be on the election, not Barrett’s flavor of the week.”

My mouth opens quickly to send him a message, but the look he flashes me stops me in my tracks.

“Now, let’s talk about Monroe,” Nolan says, sliding his glasses back on his face. “I know you’re having some rebellious feelings towards the Land Bill, but if you want elected, you’re going to have to be logical.”

“Logic says that it’s the wrong thing for the people of Georgia,” I point out. Again. “If that bill gets passed, a bunch of wealthy families, like my own, make more money. If it doesn’t, businesses come in. People go to work. The economy flourishes.”

“That’s great in theory, Barrett, but it’s never going to happen. Hobbs has already guaranteed Monroe he’ll vote for the bill. We know Monroe favors you, at least somewhat, because you’re the same party and your families have been friends. But this bill is important to him.”

“Because he stands to make twenty million dollars,” I snarl.

“He’s right,” Graham gruffs. “You’re going to have to make some decisions. You have to decide what you want in life and make a plan and follow it.”

The innuendo isn’t lost on me and I want to lash out. But I don’t. Because at the end of the day, these men want what’s best for me.

“I’ll think about it,” I say. That seems to pacify them all, except Linc who looks disgusted by it all. “I have some meetings, so if you all can excuse me ...”

They get the point and head to the door. Linc is the last to leave. Before he exits, he turns to me. “You know what I have to say about all that, yeah?”

“What’s that?”

“Fuck it. Do what makes you happy.”

The door closes behind him and for the first time in my life, I take my youngest brother’s advice.