The sun is dipping as we pull to the front of the Farm. The evening rays spread from behind a few clouds, creating beams of pinks and oranges in the most breathtaking sunset.

We roll to a stop and Troy turns off the ignition. He's around the Rover before I can get my seatbelt off and opens the door for me.

"Mr. Landry asked that you meet him behind the house. Follow me," he says, leading the way.

The path, illuminated by solar lights, slips between the trees, scents of evergreen filling the air. Troy steps out of the way and I stop in my tracks.

Tucked away behind the trees, invisible from the house, is an open air structure. There are four masonry pillars on a concrete slab. White fabric is tied against each pillar like in a classical painting, and if they were untied, they'd give another layer of privacy to the interior. The back wall is solid with a large see-through fireplace built in.

Taking a step closer, I spot a large wooden table that could seat ten people running down the center of the room. Oversized outdoor sofas and chairs with royal blue covers and bright white pillows with gold accents create small, cozy spaces.

Overhead, a cupola caps off the structure, the glass reflecting both the final rays of sunshine and the light from the oversized crystal chandelier that hangs over the table.

It's incredible.

"If you need anything, I'll be in the house," Troy says. I begin to turn to reply when I'm halted in my tracks. Coming around the corner is the most spectacular thing I've seen all night.

Barrett gives me a smile as he saunters towards me. He's wearing dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt with black, leathery-looking edging.

He looks like he just walked off the pages of a magazine and not from around the corner of a fireplace. Sexy and edgy, beautiful and classic. He's everything.

“You are gorgeous,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear.

My pulse quickens as he approaches, his cologne filling the air. His grin widens as he reaches me and kisses me gently on the cheek. The simple contact has my body rioting, my thighs clenching together to dull the ache that's rapidly growing between them.

He saunters by me and undoes the ties that hold the fabric back. In a few seconds, the front of the structure is draped with the gauzy, flowing fabric, and it only adds to the romantic ambiance of the setting.

When he turns to face me, a wicked grin lays on his lips. "Thank you for coming," he whispers, taking my hand. He holds it in his for a long second, letting the warmth of the contact mingle, before leading me to my chair.

We reach the elegantly set table with pillar candles in large, glass vases and white sand. Fresh flowers spring from containers in the center, as well as more food than either of us can possibly consume in one night.

"This is beautiful," I breathe. There are two places formally set at one end with crystal wine glasses and china that clearly didn't come out of the local department store. I glance down at my clearance rack sundress and release a breath.

At one point in my life, I would’ve been right at home in this scenario. I had a closet full of expensive clothes that wouldn’t fit in my car when I left Hayden. I had routine visits with a hairdresser, fresh manicures, and expensive make-up.

I try not to get embarrassed in the comparison of the before and after because this is where I am now and this is who I am. And I’m for the better because of it in all the ways that matter.

Pulling out a chair, he motions for me to sit. "I hope steak and Petrus Pomeral will do."

"I'll be honest," I say as I lower myself into the chair. "I love steak but I have no idea what the other thing is."

His laugh fills the air, floating on the gentle breeze that flutters the candlelight. "It's a French wine. My favorite. You do like wine, don't you?"

"Do I like wine?" I scoff. "What kind of question is that?"

"A question someone asks someone else when they want to know more about them.”

I grin as he sits across from me. I love watching him move, his muscles flex as he bends and pushes.

He lifts the silver lid in front of him and I do the same. Sitting beneath the cover is a large steak, heat still rising from the plate. I have no idea how he managed to put all of this together, but I suppose it’s easy when you’re a Landry.

“Did your day get any better?” I ask, watching a shadow roll over his face.

“Not really. It won’t get any better for awhile.” He looks up at me. “As far as work goes, anyway.”

A smile stretches across my face and I’m happy to see it returned.

“How was yours?” he asks.

“I got a little studying done before I left for work. I’ll have to finish it when I get home. But otherwise, it was good.”

“You could’ve brought your homework here,” he suggests. “I could’ve helped you study.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Sure. It would put you to sleep.”

“If I can stay awake in meetings about a dog park, I’m pretty sure I can stay awake watching you read. I’d probably even like it.”

Flushing, I take a sip of my wine. It’s rich and delicious.

“Did your son have a good day fishing today with your father? They went again, right?”

“Yeah,” I laugh, remembering his call on the way here. “They had fun.”

“Did his father ever do that kind of thing with him?”

I look away. “No, not really. Hayden was always busy.”

“I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I just don’t think about that any more than I have to. I avoid it at all costs, really.”

“I can understand that,” he smiles softly. “Hux just seems like a great kid. Lincoln loved him.”

Laughing, I place my glass back on the table. “Because he called you out about your pitch.”

Barrett chuckles.

“Hux liked Lincoln too. He pretty much thinks he met a rock star.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because they’re probably interested in the same things. Baseball and girls.”

“My son doesn’t like girls!” I exclaim.

“Give it time,” Barrett chuckles. “They’ll be calling your phone all hours of the night.”

“I’m not ready for that,” I say, feeling a bit of panic. “I don’t even have a gun.”

Barrett bursts into a fit of laughter. “I’ll let you borrow Troy. He can be Hux’s new security guy.”

He seems to think nothing about what he’s just said, but I do. I watch him slice his steak, but I can’t shake the idea that if something did happen between us, Hux might actually need a security guy. The thought really bothers me.

“What’s the matter?” Barrett asks, setting his fork down.

“I know we’re eating and conversation is usually kept light, but what you just said made me think.”

“What I just said?” He scrunches his face, trying to figure out what I’m referring to. “About Troy?”

I lean back in my chair, putting a little distance between us. “We keep talking and seeing each other. And I can’t imagine that stopping anytime soon.”

“God, I hope not.”

My cheeks flushing, I try not to swoon and stay focused. “But then what, Barrett? What would that mean for Huxley?”

He considers my question. He takes a sip of wine before responding. “Well, you’re his mother. It’s your decision.”

“I mean, I know this might not go anywhere,” I say hurriedly. “I know it’s awful timing for you, and I’m not even sure I want it to go anywhere anyway—”

“I do.”

I force a swallow. His bluntness, his quick interruption, startles me. I search his face for a moment of, Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that, but I don’t see it. It’s not there.

“You do?”

“Even though you’re right—this is the wrong time to be starting a relationship with someone. Not even just that, I’m basically the guy you’ve been avoiding and I know that puts extra pressure on things. I want this to go somewhere. I want to see if it can. And maybe it can’t,” he adds with a small smile, “but I don’t want to always wonder.”

My eyes squeeze shut. He’s saying the things any woman in the world would love to hear him say, yet I don’t know if I can reciprocate them.

“I’m scared,” I admit. “I don’t want to be in the media or Huxley to lose his freedom. I don’t want to be harassed for questions and ...” I look at him with as much seriousness as I can. “I don’t want to be embarrassed publicly.”

“I would never embarrass you.”

“I know. I believe that. But sometimes, you know ... What if you get elected? Then you move to Atlanta and all of a sudden there’s media everywhere asking questions, sticking cameras where they don’t belong? I’m getting déjà vu thinking about it.”

“Why?” he snorts. “Because you married an imbecile that thought he was king because he got a job as a judge?”

“Yes, actually. Because what if you go up the ladder and leave me behind?”

The thought causes a flash of panic to tear through me and I have to look away. It’s not the idea of being alone, that I can do. It’s the feeling of being unnecessary.

He tosses the linen napkin from his lap onto the table. His eyes are fiery. “Why would I do that?”

“I know how these things work.”

“No, you know what you’ve seen. But you haven’t seen me. You haven’t given me a chance to show you how I feel, how I act. How I feel about you won’t change whether I win the election or not. I don’t know exactly what will happen if I get the job. It’s something we’d have to figure out then together.” He grins. “What happened to that whole ‘Speak as you find’ thing?”

He’s making it way too easy to cave in. I look away from his beautiful eyes and sexy smile, from all the temptations that lure me in.

“What about Huxley?” I ask, figuring if there’s a deal breaker, it’ll be him.

“What about him? I’ll just have him do my baseball public relations work.”

Chuckling, I look at him. His features are softened in the candle light, his smile so authentic it makes me swoon.

He wants me. And Hux.

“How can I make sure he’s protected?”

“Protected how? Like physically?”

“Yes. In every way. I don’t want him loving you and then having you walk away.”

He looks away from me this time, and I hold my breath.

“If we take things slow, keep them out of the media, I don’t think he’ll have many ramifications to this. And taking it slow gives us a chance to see if it’s going to work out before we go all in. I don’t want to hurt either of you, Alison.”

He leans towards me and picks up the golden peacock feather necklace that lies between my breasts. The back of his hand rests against me for a second longer than necessary, and I know he can feel the thundering of my heart beneath it. The contact stops my breathing, and I just watch his hand turn over the emblem.

"This is beautiful." He places it where he found it, gently pressing it into my dress. His gaze locks on to mine, and he sinks back in his chair.

The air between us is thick, like a warm blanket on a cool evening. I feel him looking at me, and my cheeks flush as my eyes find his.

"What do you want out of life, Alison?”

I think about it for a long second. “I want to build a good life for Huxley and I, one that I can be proud of. One that can’t be taken away.”

“Dig deeper.”

“What?”

“Imagine yourself in fifty years,” he instructs. “What stories do you want to tell your grandkids?”

“Well,” I begin, trying to muddle through my mind, “I want to tell them about all the times I laughed, the times I cried because I was so happy. I hope I can show them pictures with lots of smiles and recall silly little picnics and tons of special moments.”

“So you want to be happy?”

“Yes. I want to be happy.”

“What does happy look like to you?”

You. Feeling like I feel when you look at me. Having this little ball of giddiness when I see you smile, this level of comfort that I haven’t felt with a man before.

But I don’t say that. Instead, I consider my options. “It looks like fall afternoons on a porch swing, summer afternoons with a glass of lemonade by a pool. Happy looks like late night talks under a pile of blankets with a man that loves me like I love him.”

Barrett’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. He just soaks in the words, the imagery, and leans forward. “You have a way with words.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You just took the ideas in my head and said them more eloquently than I ever could’ve.”

My breath catches, my heart thundering in my chest.

“Will you try to find those things with me? Just see if we can.”

“Slowly?” I ask, my voice shaking.

I want this, I know I want this. Damn it, I want this so much it’s strangling me. It’s a risk, a shot in the dark, hope hung on the laurels of a devilishly handsome politician. But when I look in his eyes, I see something I’ve never seen in someone’s eyes before. And I want to see that for a long time.

“Fast, slow, sideways, if that’s what it takes. But I’m kind of dying over here,” he mutters, a tremble in his voice too.

As soon as I respond, my heart and vagina are all tied up. I know this. But I get the binding ready.

“Yes,” I breathe, my blood pressure soaring. “Let’s try it.”