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things. When she turned back to face Shep, he was watching her with an expression she couldn’t read.
    “Nothing is going to change between us,” he finally said. “We can’t start over. It’s too late and I don’t want to.”
    “What does that even mean?” she said, exasperation warring with exhaustion. Stupid man . “We’re married. We’re going to stay married.” The words hung in the air with a finality she could tell he felt as clearly as she did.
    “I don’t know what it means,” he said. “But I don’t want to lie to you.”
    “Save it,” she said, turning away before he could make some kind of big confession that would salve his conscience and just piss her off further.
    She wasn’t aiming for true love and happily ever after. She’d lost her illusions about white knights years ago, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to be queen.
    Ignoring him, she headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Maybe she’d finally be able to get more than five hours of sleep and the creases developing around her eyes would go away. Maybe her husband would get his head out of his ass and stop doing things to jeopardize her future. Maybe pigs would fly.
    When she came out of the bathroom, Shep was gone. Pulling down the comforter, she climbed into bed, grateful her two hundred-dollar eye cream was more reliable than the man she married.

O WEN HAD BEEN RIGHT. HAVEN still couldn’t believe it, but the fact that his data was better than the SBE’s made his projections even more important. It also made finding someone to act as a go-between crucial. Regardless of how much money the campaign paid him, she’d never get him to agree to travel. She was still a little surprised she’d gotten him out of his cave and to Florida, but she suspected that had more to do with the Skull Island: Reign of Kong ride in Orlando than his desire to please her. She’d also never get him to talk civilly to the people on the ground. He made even the senior staff twitchy. The captains wouldn’t stand a chance.
    She rubbed at the crease in the center of her forehead that threatened to become a permanent line every time she thought of Owen and the tech stuff. Closing her laptop, she set it on the hotel nightstand. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tired. Catching catnaps on the bus was no substitute for a full night’s sleep in a real bed. And two days crammed in the bus with the Walkers had frayed her nerves to within a thread of breaking. She debated texting Justin to tell him to forget about dinner; she was exhausted enough to go to bed hungry.
    They’d worked through their last dinner break, making sure the national press had access to the senator and handling the local stuff themselves. By the time the bus stopped at the motel for the night, she was starving. Unfortunately, it was too late for room service and aside from a dodgy-looking twenty-four-hour convenience store, there wasn’t anything within walking distance. Justin took a fistful of bills and went searching for the vending machines while she finished up with the voting projections.
    An insistent knock sounded on the door to her hotel room. She crossed the room, flexing her bare feet as she went and peered through the peephole. Justin stood in the hallway, juggling drinks and an armload of brightly colored wrappers. Haven let him in, glancing from his laden arms to his bulging pockets and shook her head.
    “Not a lot of options in Chester after midnight.” He shrugged his shoulders and dumped his vending machine haul on the small desk.
    Not exactly nourishing, but at least she wouldn’t go to bed hungry. She really needed to stop somewhere and grab some power bars or something. It’s not like it was the first time she’d missed a meal. She and Justin, along with the rest of the team, had been going balls to the wall since Florida. Despite the primary reversal in the Sunshine State, it felt like the campaign had real forward movement, liked