I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, popped it open, and gulped down a long, refreshing swig before collapsing down into one of the captain’s chairs. When I met my bodyguard and best friend, Ty’s, disgusted gaze, I cocked my brows at him. “What’s that look for?”

“Do you seriously have to ask?”

“Are you now going to police my available pussy?”

Ty rolled his eyes. “You know I never object to pussy.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“It’s more about having to hear someone else getting it on while I’m on the job, not to mention the fact that we’re thirty-six thousand feet up and I can’t go take a walk until you’re finished.”

Waggling my eyebrows, I said, “Did that operatic orgasm get under your skin a little?”

Ty cleared his throat as he shifted in his chair. “Let’s just say I deserve a hell of a raise for putting up with you and your fuck brigade.”

The captain’s voice interrupted us. “Mr. Callahan, I wanted to let you know we’re now thirty minutes outside of DC and we’ll landing soon.”

I crinkled my brows in confusion. “Wait, did he just say DC?”

“He did.”

“Why the hell would he say DC? We’re supposed to be going home to New York.”

“Your father phoned about twenty minutes into your operatic fuckfest to change

the flight plan. He wants to meet with you ASAP.”

Scrubbing my face with my hands that smelled like Evangelina, I groaned. Nothing good ever came from the last-minute meetings my father called—or any of his meetings. Several months ago, he had summoned me to my family’s summer home on Martha’s Vineyard. After ushering me and my twenty-year-old sister, Caroline, into his study, he had gotten a secure video call in from my brother, Thorn, an army captain serving in Afghanistan.

It was then he told us he had finally decided to heed the call to run for the highest office in the land. While I knew members of his party had been encouraging him for years, I still felt shocked as hell to hear the words come out of his mouth. He had just turned sixty. It was a time in a lot of men’s lives with they started to slow down or even retire. Now he was thinking of taking on one of the most mentally and physically demanding jobs in the world.

Don’t get me wrong—it wasn’t that I didn’t think he should run, or that he wouldn’t be a good president. I couldn’t imagine anyone doing a better job than my dad. He’d been preparing for this moment all his life. Like the Kennedys and the Bushes, the Callahans were another rising political dynasty. My grandfather, James Thornton Callahan Sr., was the son of a self-made millionaire. He had spent over forty years as a senator from New York. His brother, Charles, had been a two-term governor of New Jersey. From those two brothers, the northeast saw several Callahans in office, from mayors to representatives to senators. My dad was serving his thirtieth year in the senate.

Although he hadn’t needed our blessing or our approval, he still wanted it; that was just the type of guy he was. Even though he’d been in politics all my life, he had never been an absentee father. I didn’t know how he had managed to make it to so many football games of Thorn’s and mine as well as Caroline’s dance recitals.

Despite what misgivings we children might’ve had about the toll it might take on Dad, we each wished him well and vowed to do whatever we could to help him get elected. Now that he had won in two primaries, it was game on. “Guess he’s putting out the bat call to summon me to make appearances on the campaign.”

Ty nodded. “Have you given any thought to how you’ll respond?”

“I’ll have to say yes to at least a few days a week on the road. I can always work from the jet.”

“If you’re not fucking a member of the press corps.”

I laughed. “That is true. Of course, I’ll probably be spending most of my time on the Callahan Express.”

The campaign had recently purchased three buses to transport my father and his entourage around the country. They had been dubbed the Niña, Pinta, and Santa María after the ships that brought Columbus here. I’d been given a tour last weekend, and I had to say, they were pretty posh. My dad would certainly be given the rock-star treatment when he was onboard. A roving campaign was like a band in a lot of ways. You needed an amazing crew to make it run smoothly, and then you also had the press that rode along to cover events. In the end, it was a giant operation to plan and execute.

Evangelina emerged looking fresh-faced and sexy as hell just as we started our descent. After we landed, I gave her an apologetic smile. “Ty and I have to get off here, but the captain will see you back to New York.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind.” After bestowing a kiss on my lips, she said, “I don’t know what I’ll do without you to keep me occupied.”

“You could always think about me while you get yourself off,” I suggested.

“Now there’s a nice thought.”

“Make sure you video it for me.”

Evangelina placed a finger on her chin. “On second thought, I think I’ll wait. I don’t want anyone making me come but you and that fabulous dick of yours.”

“Don’t forget my masterful tongue,” I added.

“Jesus Christ,” Ty grunted as he threw one of my bags over his shoulder before brushing past us to wait on the jet door to open.