Chapter 29

“So,” Summer smiled before dropping the bomb. “When are we going to have dinner together?”

We were sitting side by side, flying cross country for a series of campaign events on the West Coast. Houston had been terrific for me, while New York and Boston were pretty crowded for Sam. The home stretch was right in front of us and things looked good going into the convention. As long as we were careful about every single little thing, we should wrap up the primaries with a unanimous nomination in two weeks during the Thursday night session.

Summer and I spent time on the plane talking about anything and everything to take my mind off of campaigning. She was a source of unending wonder to me as we bonded without kissing in public, (other than that one time and it was all her fault), sleeping together in private, or being caught by the rabid media.

“You know that I’m ten years older than you, right?” Her smile looked nervous when she brought up our age difference.

My smile was not at all nervous. “You know that I’m ten years younger than you? How do I know you are up to the rigors of life with a young, handsome, virile and sexually starved man?” If we were going to worry about a slight age difference, then I intended to have fun with it.

Summer caught my sarcasm almost before I spoke and her smile solidified when she heard how insignificant it was to me. “I do remember that Evelyn was also ten years older, wasn’t she? Are you some kind of kinky guy that sweeps older women off their feet when they least expect it?”

“Maybe,” I was attempting to look like the sage old hand at relationships. Summer laughed at me and her laughter ended in a very cute fit of giggles when I tickled her side.

She laughed at me!

My body ached for to keep holding her tightly. The heat of her body sucked me in like nothing I could remember. Maybe every time I fall in love the feelings are so strong that I forget how it was each tine before. I knew that keeping my hands on her was a sure way to get in trouble. And I wanted to avoid it until after the election, but the flesh was far more willing than my spirit was strong. For the moment, I kept my hands on her and gently held her, throwing caution and the national press to the wind.

“We need to talk about this ‘us’ thing,” I said, smiling. “Are you prepared for the storm of phony outrage that will come from the press when they find out that you and I are both single AND heterosexual, and that we dared to fall in love without their express written permission?”

From the shock on her face I don’t think Summer heard all of my question. The only thing that seemed to hit home with her was the only thing she wanted to discuss. “Are you really telling me that you love me?

“You do know that other than one kiss, which I literally had to steal from you, we’ve barely held hands, haven’t even imagined having sex, or even seen each other in anything but dress up clothes. And yet, despite all that, you sit there saying that you love me?

“Really?”

Her expression was a combination of confusion, hopefulness and arousal. Somehow putting my true feelings in words brought out the whole woman in her. It was an amazing thing to sit and watch her wrestle with the outfall of my declaration. A flush crept up her neck to take over her face, and both hands shook as she held my wrist, unable to let me go.

In times of serious stress, I find it is always a good preventive measure to help my women find some sort of balance. To help Summer over that hump I kissed her hard enough to make my point. She sat stock still throughout the kiss and then grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me in and kissed me hard enough to cause me to forget my phone number.

When I was certain I actually had her attention, I said, “We need to do something about our relationship as soon as Sam accepts the nomination next Thursday. In the meantime I need you to examine your feeling and decide if you feel the same other worldly attraction to me that I feel for you. If you do, then we need to get somewhere alone where we can seriously talk this through, because I’ve never felt so drawn to someone that I knew for such a short time before and I like it.”

Summer had no intention of thinking things through. “Thomas, I know how I feel. You should know how I feel, because I literally threw myself at you. It physically hurt to be on this plane with you,, day after day, wanting you so badly I had to excuse myself and change my panties whenever you as much as made eye contact.

“Thomas I am wildly in love with you. Don’t you get it?” Her eyes were alive with her tumultuous emotions. She needed reassured.

“Summer, I know this is crazy, but right after the nominating convention, will you PLEASE go away with me for week and let’s see where this whole thing is going?”

Please?”

The campaign continued right up to and including the nominating convention without the press tumbling to our growing no sex, love affair.

It was finally time.

That special Thursday that we’d been aiming for ever since Sam asked me to be on the ticket with him had mercifully arrived. The day started with a flurry of meetings that gave way to a series of press interviews. My last scheduled interview was with Summer. She looked positively edible in a summer-weight peasant dress that no peasant could ever have afforded. Her golden hair was piled on her head in what looked like a haphazard fashion, just like that pivotal night on the campaign jet, when she let me in on some of her secrets.

Summer’s summer dress accentuated her thirty-four “C” chest. Those perfect breasts called out to me like the mystical sirens of the high Greek mythology. She dressed just to make me sweat. I know she was. And the sweat was gathering everywhere beneath my clothes. It felt like a river had sprung forth at my hairline and saturated everything south to my shoelaces.

When this final interview, before the nomination would be ours, I was going to need a long cool shower, along with a full change of clothing. Even her perfume got under my skin. I couldn’t care less what the stuff was named. Its real name should have been, “Make My Man Sweat, Like A Dirty Dog,” because that’s what it did to men. Instead of an interview she sat like there a statue and allowed me to stare. That was among the nicest gifts anyone ever gave me.

A few hours later Sam and I sat patiently, while the delegates assembled for our nomination.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the ballots have been distributed and collected. Do we have a motion from the floor?” The Chairman of the party called everyone to order and cut right to the chase. After only one day of deliberation, it seemed like the party was ready to nominate Sam Brownbock and he was ready to officially choose me as his running mate.

“I see the Delegation from Kansas requesting to be recognized. The Chairman from Kansas is recognized.”

“Mr. Chairman. The Kansas Delegation proposes the following motion. First: That all nominations be closed and that Sam Brownbock from the Great State of Kansas be declared the unanimous nominee for the office of President of the United States by acclimation!”

The thunderous applause was far too loud to allow the Chairman to continue until it settled down. That took a while.

“The Chair recognizes the Chairman from North Carolina.”

“Mr. Chairman, the Great State of North Carolina SECONDS the Motion and further motions that the Secretary cast One Vote and that Sam Brownbock and Thomas Morrison be unanimously nominated as per our rules.”

“Is there any discussion? Seeing none, the nomination is official. Please stand and state your acclimation for our nominees and next President and Vice President of the United States, Sam Brownbock and Thomas Morrison!!!”

More pandemonium and a party began that exceeded my imagination.

With the work out of the way, the delegates were ecstatic to avoid the usual infighting, multiple motions, numerous ballots and unending bickering. Instead of pitched fight from the floor, we were present for the party to end all parties.