1
December 18th - HOT HQ
General John “Viper” Mendez looked up at the knock on his door. “Come in.”
He’d sent his aide home early today so there was no one to announce visitors. The lieutenant had a new girlfriend and he still needed to find the perfect Christmas present, so Mendez had told him to go. It was only a week until Christmas and time was running out for the kid.
Thankfully, he had his own perfect gift tucked away for Kat. A beautiful white gold necklace with four shining diamonds—one for each of them, and one for each of their children. Though Mendez had never met his son, who’d died in a car accident as a child, Roman was always on his mind. He wanted Kat to know it, too.
The office door opened, and his heart flipped in his chest at the sight of the woman standing there—the very pregnant woman with vibrant red hair that grew longer by the day, and glowing cheeks that said she’d been out in the cold just a few minutes ago.
“Kat.” He bolted up and hurried to her side. She smiled as he put an arm around her and drew her close. “What are you doing here, solnishko? You should be resting at home.”
She rolled her eyes. “Johnny, you cannot be that forgetful.”
It took him a second. Her coat was buttoned up, but he realized that she had a cocktail dress on beneath it. “Oh, shit.”
“That’s right, mister. We are invited to President and Mrs. Campbell’s private gathering at the White House tonight. Your suit will be here in a minute. Ghost went to fetch it for me.”
“You didn’t drive yourself, did you?”
“I’m pregnant, not helpless.”
He knew better than to push her further, but hell, she was his entire world and the thought of something happening to her out there on slick roads—or any roads—was more than he could bear. He’d already lost her once—and lost the son he’d never known—and he wasn’t going to let it happen again.
He closed his eyes as he pulled her close and pressed his lips to her hair. She smelled like sunshine and vanilla and everything that was right in the world. His heart beat for her. For her and the child she carried. He needed them more than she knew.
“I know you aren’t helpless,” he whispered against her temple. “But I love you and our baby, and I don’t want you doing anything alone right now, okay? Wait until the baby comes. Please.”
She squeezed him. “Okay, Johnny. But it’s not dark yet, and the roads are clear. I knew you wouldn’t remember if I didn’t come and remind you.”
“Phones, Kat. We have them. They are these remarkable little devices that connect people across miles. You can say anything you want and the person on the other end will hear you.”
“Smartass,” she laughed as she slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Truthfully, I thought you’d try to weasel out of it if I didn’t show up ready to go.”
He stepped back to blink down at her. Guilt pricked him at the knowing look on her face. “Okay, maybe I would have. Not because I don’t like President Campbell, but you never know who’ll be at these things. I fucking hate politics.”
Kat shook her head. “Baby, you need to take a page from Matt Girard’s book and start saying firetruck every time you want to swear. For the sake of our child’s language. You firetrucking hate politics, am I right?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine, I hate the firetruck out of them. I just want to do my job to the best of my firetrucking ability, not play games with politicians.”
Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him. “Campbell likes you. He owes you nothing less than his life and his presidency, so I wouldn’t worry about games tonight.”
“I didn’t mean him. I mean the others who could be there.”
“Johnny. It’s a private gathering—only the people he likes. Garrett and Grace will be there. You don’t think Campbell would invite his son-in-law to a political meeting, do you?”
Mendez thought about Garrett “Iceman” Spencer for a moment. Ice was as tough as they came. And even though he’d had a mother who taught manners and etiquette for a living and had therefore practiced her skills on him quite a bit, he still had rough edges that he didn’t apologize for. No, the president wouldn’t very likely invite his Special Operator son-in-law to mingle with political donors or senators whose favor he wanted to court. Because Ice wouldn’t pretend to like anyone he didn’t have to.
“No, I don’t think he would.”
“Precisely. Ah, here’s your suit,” Kat finished as Alex “Ghost” Bishop appeared in the open door, carrying a garment bag.
Ghost strode in and laid the bag over a chair. “I’ve got everything covered, General,” Ghost said. “If you’d like to get out of here.”
Mendez looked at his wife and his second-in-command. He was outgunned on this one and he knew it. Kat arched an eyebrow and grinned knowingly. Ghost had a poker face that didn’t give a hint to his mood.
Mendez swept the bag into his hand. “Fine. I’m getting dressed. Kat, sit down. Ghost, stop yanking my chain with that general business.”
Ghost’s grin was sudden. “Sorry, Viper. Can’t help it. I’m thrilled as shit you pinned it on. Everyone is.”
Mendez didn’t have to look down at his uniform to know there was a star on each shoulder. He’d felt the weight of those silver stars every moment since he’d first put them on. “I’m not unhappy about it either. Just not used to it yet. I thought I’d die a full-bird.”
Kat snorted delicately. “As I have informed you many times, you do not know everything.”
He laughed. “No, apparently I don’t.”
“I will tell you something else you don’t know,” she said. “I’m starving! So hurry up and change. The baby and I want to pig out at the White House tonight.”
“On my way.”
“And no sneaking out of the bathroom in that escape tunnel!” she called after him.
Mendez laughed as he shut the door and started to change. If he hadn’t bolted from HOT HQ that day back in the spring, using the false door and tunnel in the private bathroom he currently stood in, he wouldn’t have found Kat again. And he wouldn’t be the happiest man in the world today.
2
The White House was a beautiful building at any time, but especially so at Christmas. Kat and Johnny were admitted after undergoing a security check and then ushered to the second-floor central hall, which was part of the private quarters the president and his wife occupied. President Preston H. Campbell III was a handsome man with iron gray hair and a booming laugh. He came over to greet them personally. His wife Helena joined him, hugging Kat and asking when she was due.
“The thirty-first,” Kat said. “New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh my,” Helena Campbell exclaimed, taking her elbow gently. “I think we’d better get you to a chair.”
Kat laughed. “I feel fine. Really.”
And she did. It was no picnic having a baby at nearly forty-four years of age, but she had always been exceptionally fit. She’d exercised regularly during her pregnancy, jogging right up until the doctor had told her not to anymore. Now she walked, doing at least two miles a day on her treadmill.