Anxious to see him, Sam hustled up the ramp and used her key in the door. Inside she was greeted by the smell of something mouthwatering and candlelight flickering in the dining room. He emerged from the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel with his BlackBerry tucked into his shoulder.

“You’re sure you’re okay with staying with Sam’s sister Angela and her family Saturday night?” He paused to listen. “Right, Jack’s parents. You met them at the dinner at Sam’s dad’s house. They’ll drive you home on Sunday.” Nick laughed and winked at Sam. “I’ll be there at noon on Friday. See you then, buddy. Okay. Bye.”

“How’s Scotty?” Sam asked.

“All kinds of excited about me signing him out of school on Friday.” Nick had met the twelve-year-old at a state home for children in Richmond, and the two had formed a fast friendship based initially on their shared love of the Boston Red Sox. The boy had spent a recent weekend with Sam and Nick, and hadn’t seemed to mind following Nick around on the campaign trail. Sam suspected there was nowhere the boy wouldn’t go if it meant he got to spend more time with Nick, something she could certainly understand.

“Did you remember to order his tux?” she asked.

“All taken care of.”

“Of course it is. Do you ever screw anything up? Forget something? Ever act like a normal person who occasionally drops one of the seventy-five thousand balls he has in the air at one time?”

Smiling, he said, “Once in a while.”

“Will you let me know the next time it happens? I’d really like to savor the moment.”

“You got it.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and took her coat, hanging it as he always did in the front closet. Sam would’ve tossed it over the sofa. Why hang it up when she’d just need it again in the morning?

“How was the fitting?” he asked.

“It was great, and the best part? It was the last one.”

He chuckled. “How’s it looking?”

Sam made a face and shrugged. “Eh. You know. A dress is a dress.”

“Are you trying to lower my expectations?”

“I’d really hate for you to be disappointed.”

With his fingers on her chin he tilted her face to meet his intense gaze. “You could wear a burlap sack, and I wouldn’t be disappointed—as long as you’re in it, and as long as I get to take it off you afterward.” He punctuated the statement with a sweet kiss.

Whenever he looked at her in that particular way, she positively melted. “Now you tell me! You couldn’t have saved me all those damned fittings by telling me that six weeks ago!”

That smile of his… Whoa, so potent.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starved. What’s for dinner?”

“Roast chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables.”