“What time are we leaving in the morning?” Vernon asked as they drove through the White House gates.

  “Six thirty.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  “Thank you for working late on a Sunday.”

  “No problem.”

  When she entered the White House, Harold, one of her favorite ushers, greeted her with a warm smile. “Evening, Mrs. Cappuano.”

  “Evening, Harold. Is the president upstairs?”

  “He is, ma’am.”

  “Thank you. Have a nice night.”

  “You do the same, ma’am.”

  Sam trudged up the red-carpeted stairs, feeling far more exhausted than she should have been after a week-long vacation. But the so-called vacation had been filled with far more drama than they’d anticipated, making it much less restful than it could’ve been.

  She looked in on the sleeping twins and then on Scotty, who was watching a Caps game. “Who’s winning?”

  “Caps are up by two in the third.”

  “How’s the book?”

  He gave her a withering look. “It’s horrible. Worst thing I’ve ever been forced to read.”

  Sam sat on the edge of his bed and scratched behind Skippy’s ears, making the puppy sigh in her sleep. “I remember having to read stuff that just didn’t interest me and how painful it was.” Especially with undiagnosed dyslexia. Those were some seriously unfun years.

  “‘Painful’ is a good word for it.”

  “I’ll get that study guide for you right away.”

  “You’re the best. Thank you.”

  “Anything for you, kid.” She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Don’t stay up too late.”

  “This book will put me to sleep in no time.”

  Smiling, she said, “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She went into the suite she shared with Nick to find him tucked away in the small office attached to their bedroom. Each night, he drafted handwritten responses to ten letters from citizens in addition to reviewing the massive briefing books he brought “home” from the office.

  Sam cleared her throat so she wouldn’t startle him.

  Prior to him becoming vice president, she would’ve snuck up on him and taken great pleasure in scaring him. That wasn’t as much fun now that he lived with endless threats to his life.

  He turned to her, smiling. “There’s my favorite wife. I was just about to check on you.”

  “Here I am.”

  “How’d it go?”

  “A lot of wheel-spinning so far.”

  “I heard you might’ve interviewed my AG.”

  “You heard correctly.”

  “How’d that go?”

  Sam thought about how she should answer that question. “I think it’s best if we don’t talk about that.”

  “How come?”

  “Because he works for you, and he’s part of my investigation. If we’re ever asked, it’d be better to say we never discussed it.”

  “Are you becoming a political wife right before my very eyes?”

  Sam scoffed. “Hardly.”

  He stood and came to her, putting his hands on her hips. “It’s kinda hot when you anticipate political concerns.”

  “You think everything I do is hot.”

  “That’s very true.” He nuzzled her neck, which had her leaning into him. “Today was a long day without you after spending most of a week together.”

  “For me, too. As much as I love my job—most of the time, anyway—I find myself thinking more often lately about what it will be like to be, um, retired someday.”

  His head whipped up, eyes gone wide with shock.

  She laughed at his reaction. “Oh, shut up. I’m not saying any time soon. Just someday. In the far-off future when we don’t have a million things competing for our attention all the time.”

  “I can’t wait for that day.”

  “I would say me either, but I don’t want you thinking I mean soon.”

  “Gotcha. But it’s something to look forward to.”

  “For sure.”

  “Until that far-off state of nirvana, we have the Canadian state visit to contend with this week, as well as the meeting with my mother on Friday.”

  Sam frowned when she thought about meeting with his mother—voluntarily. Nicoletta had requested the opportunity to speak with them, hoping to make things right. In Sam’s mind, that wasn’t possible, but it wasn’t up to her. Nick was curious about what she had to say, so they would take the meeting at their home on Ninth Street. Sam drew the line at having the woman to the White House, which she suspected was Nicoletta’s ultimate goal.

  “I’ll be ready for all of it. I have a fitting with Marcus tomorrow afternoon. He’s coming to HQ, and Lindsey is loaning me the morgue so no one will see it.”

  “Not sure how I feel about my first lady having a dress fitting in the morgue.”

  Sam laughed. “It does sound funny when you put it that way.” She rested in the comfort of his embrace for another minute. “I need to run up to talk to Avery and see Shelby for a few minutes. Are you almost done?”

  “I need another half hour.”

  “Meet you back here in thirty?”

  He kissed her. “It’s a date.”

  She went upstairs to the third floor to knock softly on Shelby and Avery’s door.

  Avery answered, looking tired but happy. “Come in.”

  “How goes it in baby central?”

  “Busy and exhausting, but great, too.”

  Sam held up the evidence bag. “This is Forrester’s encrypted work phone. Anything you can do with it?”

  “I’ll deliver it to our lab.”

  Sam handed it to him. “Obviously, time is of the essence.”

  “I understand. I’ll put a rush on it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Heard you interviewed the AG.”

  “Was it on the news or something?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Is that a rhetorical question? When the first lady, in her capacity as a homicide detective, interviews the U.S. AG after the murder of a USA, that tends to make the news.”

  “Why does that have to be news?”

  Avery laughed a little harder this time. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “I’m just doing my job. Why does everything I do have to make the goddamned news?”

  “As we stand in your residence at the White House, you can ask that?”

  “Shut up. You’re supposed to be my friend.”

  “I am.” He wiped away laughter tears that irritated her.

  “Where’s your wife? I like her better than you.”

  Chuckling, Avery gestured for Sam to lead the way into their suite.

  Chapter Six

  Shelby, who was on the sofa with the baby asleep on her chest, smiled when she saw Sam. “Hey there. Come meet our Maisie Rae.”

  Sam sat on the footstool in front of them and leaned in for a closer look at the sleeping angel. She tried to ignore the too-familiar pang of longing. Why was it so easy for some people to have babies, but impossible for her? “She’s gorgeous.”

  “We’re pretty smitten, even if she has her days and nights mixed up.”

  “That’s happened with all my nieces and nephews. Fortunately, they eventually figure it out.”

  “Noah did, so I’m hopeful for her, too.”

  “Where is my little pal?”

  “Sleeping over with my sister Ginger to give us a minute with Miss Maisie. He was so excited to meet her earlier that we feared he’d be up all night if he was here.”

  Avery handed Sam his phone. “Pictures.”

  Sam scrolled through the photos of Noah holding his baby sister and then one of the four of them together. “Beautiful.” She was deeply moved by the pure love on Noah’s little face as he gazed at his new sister.

  She handed the phone back to Avery. “How’re you feeling, Shelby?”

  “Like I got hit by a bus, but glad it’s over and that she’s finally here.”

  “We’re so happy she’s here.”

  “Imagine that she’ll be able to tell everyone for the rest of her life that she came home to the White House after she was born.”

  “I love that,” Sam said, smiling.

  “Would you like to hold her?”

  “Oh, um, if you’re sure it’s okay. She’s so little.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Shelby carefully transferred the sleeping baby to Sam’s arms. “Don’t worry if she wakes up. It’s almost time for a feeding.”

  Sam held the tiny bundle close to her chest, gazing down at her perfect little face. “Good Lord, she’s beautiful.”

  “We think so, too,” Shelby said with a giggle.

  Avery went to the sofa to sit next to his wife and held her hand while Sam gazed at the baby in awe.

  “What an angel.”

  “You should hear the lungs on her,” Avery said.

  “She’s a steel magnolia, like her mama,” Sam said.

  Avery smiled at Shelby. “God help me.”

  Shelby rested her head on his shoulder, seeming almost back to her old self after the horrifying home invasion she and Noah had endured.

  As Sam studied the newborn, her eyes filled with tears of happiness tinged with the usual sadness. “Welcome to the family, Miss Maisie Rae Hill. We love you already.” She kissed the baby’s soft cheek and returned her to her mother. “I’ll let you guys get some rest. I just wanted to check on you and see our new little love.”

  Shelby glanced at Avery. “We’d like you and Nick to be her godparents, if you’re willing.”

  “Of course we’re willing and honored to be asked.”

  “Home to the White House with the president and first lady as her godparents,” Shelby said, sounding awestruck. “What a way to start a life.”

  “We do what we can for our people.” Sam stood and leaned over to kiss Shelby’s cheek. “I’ll check in tomorrow, Tinker Bell. Congratulations again. You make the prettiest babies.”

  “Thank you for everything. Being able to hide out here after what happened has been such a blessing to us.”

  “Our home is your home. Always.”

  Avery walked Sam to the door. “I’ll check in tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good, and congrats, Dad.”

  “Thanks for everything. I’m working on getting us out of here.”

  “Don’t stress about it. We’re not.” Sam gave him a kiss on the cheek and left him to head back downstairs, stopping halfway down when a wave of emotion overwhelmed her. She sat on one of the red-carpeted steps to give herself a minute to get it together before she rejoined Nick.

  With her head in her hands, she let the emotion take over.

  Just for a minute.

  The baby fever didn’t strike as often since Scotty and the twins had come into her life. However, as strong as she was the rest of the time, any time a newborn was placed into her arms, she was reminded of what she would never have. She’d made peace with that fact of her life, but it still hurt sometimes. Along with the joy of a new little person to love came the pain of her previous losses and the reality that she would never carry a baby she and Nick created together.

  When his arm encircled her shoulders and his familiar scent filled her senses, she leaned into him. “I’m okay.”

  “I know.”

  She had no idea how long they sat there before he helped her up and kept his arm around her as they made their way down the rest of the stairs and into their suite.

  After he closed the door, she turned to him. “How’d you know?”

  “You weren’t back for our date, so I went looking for you.”

  “I’m glad you did.” She wiped the last of the tears off her face. “I’m really fine. I swear.”

  “I know you are, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel a little sad every time we welcome another baby into our lives.”

  “I have nothing at all to be sad about.”

  “Sure you do.”

  She shook her head. “I’m so, so satisfied with our amazing family. We can’t take a vacation without nonstop chaos. Can you think of any other two people who have less business bringing a baby into their lives than we do?”

  “We’d find a way to make it work, but like you, I’m more than satisfied with the family we have.”

  “I’m so incredibly blessed, which is why I get so mad with myself any time this happens.”

  Nick hugged her. “Don’t be mad with my favorite person. She’s the best mom ever.”

  Sam laughed even as she dealt with more tears. “No, she isn’t.”

  “Our kids think you’re the coolest person on earth.”

  “They do not. You’re the president. That makes you the coolest.”

  “No, Sam, they think you are. Scotty even said so after we got home earlier. ‘How cool is Mom with the lowdown on study guides?’”

  “He said that?”

  “He did, and he’s right. You’re the mom he knows he can count on to help him with anything, even things he should be doing on his own.”

  Sam shuddered. “No one should have to do Beowulf on their own.”

  She loved his laugh and how his mountain of worries seemed to fall away for a while when they were alone together. Sometimes she felt guilty for being a somewhat crappy first lady—okay, she felt guilty about that all the time. But the one area where she truly shined was in giving him respite from the never-ending storm that came with being president.

  That was her superpower.

  “Take me to bed, Mr. President. I’ve got an early wakeup.”

  “There’s nowhere I’d rather take you, my love.”

  They changed their clothes, brushed their teeth and crawled into bed a few minutes later, meeting in the middle as they always did, arms and legs intertwined, her head on his chest.

  “Ah,” he said on a sigh. “That’s what I’ve needed all damned day.”

  “It was a long, damned day from vacation ending abruptly to now.”

  “Sure was, even if I had a nice day with the kids.”

  “I’m sorry I missed it. I hate missing stuff with them.”

  “They know that.”

  Sam’s phone chimed with a text. She groaned. “I’m afraid to look.”

  Nick reached for the phone on her bedside table. “It’s Lilia asking for a minute tomorrow to go over the schedule for Tuesday.”

  Sam took the phone from him and texted her back. The only minute I have tomorrow is first thing. Can you do 6?

  I’ll be there.

  So sorry for the early hour.

  No worries at all. See you then.

  Sam adjusted her alarm to five fifteen and put the phone back on the table. “Just lost forty-five minutes of sleep.”

  “Thanks for taking one for the team.”

  “Anything for you.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion that helped to relax her into sleep. Tomorrow would be there soon enough, and the craziness would begin anew. For now, though, they were just a husband and a wife, settling in for the night, not the most powerful couple in the world.

  * * *

  Sam entered her office in the East Wing at one minute before six the next morning, still half asleep and groggy. She carried the to-go cup of coffee that Nick had made for her while she was in the shower. Ten cups wouldn’t be enough to jumpstart this Monday morning. Of course Lilia was there waiting for her, looking fresh, pretty and put together, as always. Today, she wore a black suit with a teal silk blouse.

  “How do you do that at the butt crack of dawn?”

  Lilia knit her brows. “Do what?”

  Sam flopped into one of the chairs in front of Lilia’s desk. “Look so freaking perfect with every pearl in place at this ungodly hour.”

  Lilia laughed. “I took a shower and got dressed.”

  “I did the same thing, and you’ll note there’s a big difference between how you look and how I look.” Sam wore jeans, a sweatshirt and running shoes in anticipation of a long day. “Elegance meets roadkill. I still say we need to have you play me for the next three years—except in the bedroom, of course.”

  Her adorable chief of staff turned bright red. “Stop it. No one in this world could play you better than you.”

  “Oh, please. Anyone could, and we all know it.”

  “What would Mr. President say?”

  “He’s biased.”

  “Yes, he is, and his opinion is the only one that matters in this debate.” Lilia handed over a printed sheet. “That’s the schedule for tomorrow, beginning with your tea with Courtney Hutchinson, the prime minister’s wife.”

  “Do I have to drink tea? I hate it.”

  Lilia’s lips quivered with amusement. “We can have some coffee brought in for you.”

  “Make it decaf, or I’ll be awake all night.”

  Lilia made a note. “You got it.”

  “What am I supposed to talk to her about?”

  “I made a list of potential topics, including family, children, your favorite causes and hers.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Anticipate what I’m going to ask you and be ready with an answer.”

  “That’s my job. We’ve worked together for a while now, and I’d like to think I understand what you need. Most of the time, anyway.”

  “All the time. You get me. It makes a huge difference, and I’m not sure I tell you often enough how much it means to me to have you and Roni and the others making me look good when I’m barely ever here.”

  “We enjoy making you look good. Speaking of that, Roni would like to schedule some time on an upcoming weekend for a photo shoot to use for upcoming social media needs.” Lilia handed over another sheet of paper with a long list of pending dates, holidays, religious occasions and other important things that would need commentary from the first lady. “Our thought is to take maybe half a day, six to ten different outfits, with hair and makeup on standby to change things up here and there. That’ll cover us for the next couple of months. And before you can balk, we’d do all the work. You’d just have to show up and smile.”

  “God, that feels so fake.”