“No one hammers things home quite like my cop.” He smiled as he kissed her. “Want some company in the shower?”

“Always.”

“How much longer until we can go back to doing it in the shower?” he asked a few minutes later as they stood together under the warm water.

Sam grimaced at the thought of assuming that position. “Not for a while yet.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. “This will have to suffice in the meantime, and it’s hardly a consolation prize.”

“Note to self—a broken hip is the ultimate cockblocker.”

His low chuckle made her smile. “Thanks for this perfect start to what promises to be another crazy day.”

“Always a pleasure to start the day naked with you, even if my hip is cockblocking us.”

“We’ll make up for it in Bora Bora.”

“God, I can’t wait for that. And in the meantime, I owe you—as well as several family members and friends—another weekend at Camp David to make up for the lost vacation.”

“Let’s do that after the State of the Union.”

Sam kissed him. “It’s a date.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Vernon and Jimmy delivered her to the morgue entrance just over an hour later. She’d helped get Scotty and the twins up for school and had breakfast with them before leaving Celia in charge until they would leave with their respective details. Thank God for Celia, who was always there when Sam needed her and seemed to be loving her new life in the White House. She’d told Sam that everyone she knew was jealous that she got to live there and be part of their grand adventure.

Sam was glad she saw it that way. After they’d lost Skip, she’d worried about Celia, who’d not only been his wife but also his devoted caregiver for the last four years. It gave Sam great pleasure to give her beloved stepmother something exciting to partially fill the gaping void Skip’s death had left in both their lives.

The move to the White House had done that for Sam, too, if she was being honest. It had shaken things up and removed them from their Ninth Street homes, where the ramps they’d never need again were a constant reminder of their loss.

Sam stepped through the door by the morgue and nearly ran smack into Ramsey. She recoiled, her hip twinging in response to the unexpected movement.

“Get out of the way,” he growled as he brushed by her.

“I’m not in your way.”

He slammed out without another word, thankfully.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked Lindsey, who’d stepped out of the morgue.

“I heard he had a screaming fight with Erica Lucas, but I haven’t gotten any of the details.”

“I’ll see what I can find out. What else is going on?”

“I finished the exam on Woo and sent the report over.”