24. Jamie

"Alright, time for a quick refresher on media training before we get there," Mina says from the backseat as I pull off the highway toward Mills Family Farm.

I glance over at Adrian in the passenger seat and catch him tense. Mina already gave him the run-down a few weeks ago once he agreed to join me for this appearance. She was thorough, even including general guidelines on what he should wear. He'd diligently taken everything in at the time, but I know the reminder will help ease his anxiety, which is why I suggested Mina drive with us to re-brief him. Wordlessly, I reach over and squeeze his hand.

"Someone from the Cary Chronicle is meeting us at the farm. It'll just be them and one photographer. Jamie, I already sent your answers to the interview portion of the article, so all that's happening today is coverage of your tour of the farm," Mina explains.

"Who's covering this time?" I ask. When I started running for office, I made a point of familiarizing myself with the local reporters that most often cover the political beat. I found interviews to be a lot less nerve-wracking when I could break the ice either with something I had in common with them or by complimenting a past article.

"Shauna Bailey, and I believe she said the photographer would be…" There"s a brief sound of pages flipping. "Someone named Mike."

I relax a little. I don't know who Mike could be, but Shauna covered a lot of my campaign trail the first time around. She also sent me a kind private message (through Mina) after my coming out on Instagram, so I've got a good rapport with her. "Oh, good. You shouldn't have too much to worry about with her, darlin'," I tell Adrian. "She's a sweetheart."

"Speaking of," Mina continues. "Adrian, your job is basically to just support Jamie. At a minimum, follow his lead and act like you're happy to be there. But, since this is more your area of knowledge than Jamie's, feel free to engage with the farm owners. Their names are Peggy and Rick Mills."

"Engage how?" he asks, uncertain.

"Focus on the animals," she instructs. "Jamie will probably ask a majority of the questions, a lot of which will be focused on the changes they've been able to implement with the grant they were able to secure and what needs they and the surrounding farming community still have that Jamie as their representative can work on helping them with." She pauses, letting me know that was as much a reminder for me about my job as it was so Adrian knows what to expect.

I glance at her through my rearview mirror and nod.

"But if there is anything that sparks your occupational curiosity, ask away," she continues. "The more engaged you look, and the more you seem to care about Jamie's community, the better we will be able to combat the bullshit Mitchell keeps spouting about Jamie's lack of loyalty."

"But you don't have to talk if you don't want to," I add. "I'm sure you taking a hands-on interest in the animals would accomplish the same thing."

"That's true. There will be a photographer there, and photos of a hot vet with some baby goats would also be good press," she says matter-of-fact.

"Mina!"

"What?" she asks, indignant.

"Don't objectify my boyfriend," I scold.

"Don't pretend like you aren't actively plotting how you can sneak photos of Adrian with a goat without looking thirsty in front of a reporter," she fires back.

Dammit, why does she always have to call me out like that? I feel my cheeks go pink and hear Adrian stifle a laugh next to me. I glance over again, and he offers me a small smile. Well, at least he seems to have loosened up a bit, even if it is at my expense.

"Also, don't pretend like the same doesn't apply to you," she adds. "Young, attractive politician who cares about his community and cuddles goats is basically the headline I'm hoping for with this article."

"I hate everything about that sentence," I grumble. "But I trust you."

When I see the sign pointing toward Mills Family Farm, I slow down and turn onto a gravel road. After about half a mile, the farm comes into view. Since it's a Monday, the farm is closed to the public, so the guest parking lot is empty save for the car I assume belongs to Shauna and her photographer. I pull into a spot a few spaces down from it and kill the engine.

"Ready, darlin'?" I ask, turning to Adrian.

He takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly before nodding. "Yeah, I think so."

"Then let's get this show on the road. I'm tired of being cooped up in this tiny backseat," Mina says, tapping on the back of the passenger seat impatiently.

"It's not that small," I protest as I undo my seatbelt.

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you sit back here on the way back?"

I catch Adrian chuckle again as he undoes his own seatbelt and gets out of the car. He bends to move the seat forward and extends a hand to help her more gracefully climb out from the backseat.

"I'm not climbing into the back seat of my own car in front of a reporter," I tell Mina, my voice low, once we meet up near the trunk of my car.

"Likely excuse. Okay, quick ‘fit check," she says, stepping back to appraise us.

Reflexively, I smooth out my navy blue polo, making sure it's still neatly tucked into the jeans I wore so I'd look more relaxed and down to Earth—because, in the words of Mina, politicians wearing suits or even chinos to visit farms and factories always looks a little out of touch.

"Are you sure I don't need to be more professional looking?" Adrian asks as he fiddles with the pushed-up sleeves of his henley.

I take a step closer to him and rest a hand on his lower back. "You look great," I say, resisting the urge to press a kiss to his cheek.

"And you are dressed professionally," Mina adds. "You're a vet, not a politician. You're dressed exactly how I'd expect a visiting farm vet to dress. Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, but I don't," he mutters under his breath.

"Mina, can you give us a minute?" I ask.

She gives me a confused look, apparently not having heard Adrian, but nods. "Sure thing, boss." She pulls out her phone and starts tapping away on it as she walks a few feet away to give us space.

When she's gone, I turn to Adrian and slip my hand into his and squeeze to get his attention. I offer him a small smile. "Hey, this is going to go great. I promise."

"How do you know that, though?" he asks, his eyes focused more on the barn in the distance than on me.

"Because you're great," I say with emphasis.

His eyes cut to mine.

"You are smart, kind, and personable—and I know you don't think you are because you say you generally hate people, but we both know that's not true. People like you."

He nods, but there's still a small furrow between his brows. It takes some serious restraint not to smooth it out with a kiss.

"What are you worried about?"

"I guess I'm just worried I'm going to make you look bad if I'm too quiet or… I don't know. It's just that I see the kind of scrutiny that politician's wives get put under, and I know that's doubled because we're queer. And I know the purpose of this was to—" he stops short, realizing anyone could hear us even if we don't see anyone. He blows a frustrated breath and stares down at his feet. "But it seems like it might be doing the opposite with everything Mitchell is saying, so I just wonder if it's worth—"

"Darlin', look at me," I say seriously. "Let me worry about Mitchell, okay?"

He opens his mouth to protest, but I continue on, lowering my voice.

"The only reason he's saying half the shit he is about me is because he thinks it's his one advantage. He's banking on being able to get people to question my loyalty because it's easier than getting them to question my capability. I am younger than he is and the incumbent."

"But the polls," he points out.

I inhale sharply, then let it out slowly. "I know. This is a close race. But it was always going to be a close race. If none of this happened, if the photos had never come out, if he didn't have our relationship as ammo, he would have just found something else to use against me. I knew that before I met you. Hell, me knowing that is why I met you. I went to The Lavender Gimlet that night to blow off steam because of how stressed I already was about this election."

"And then you were outed," he mumbles.

"Yeah, and that sucked," I admit. "But you started to say that you wonder if this is worth it, and I would say, without a doubt, that it is. I like you, Adrian. I like having you in my life, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let Mitchell's words take you from me."

His breath catches, and his hand tightens around mine. "Jamie…"

With a soft smile, I lift his hand to my face and kiss his knuckle—the most I can do right now without probably creating another scandal. "We really need to go, but I want you to promise me that you'll let me worry about Mitchell, okay?"

"Okay," he says with a nod.

With one last kiss to his knuckle, I let our hands drop to our sides, then lead him over to where Mina is still furiously typing on her phone.

"Ready, sir?" she asks.

"Ready," I confirm.

We walk together up to the barn that acts as a welcome center and market on the weekends when the farm is open to the public. Shauna Bailey and the photographer are already there, talking with Peggy Mills, who greets us with a friendly wave when she sees us. As soon as we reach the door, Adrian drops my hand and stays a step behind me.

"Mr. Montgomery, thank you so much for coming all the way out here," she says.

"It's my pleasure, Mrs. Mills. I'm looking forward to seeing the improvements you've been able to make," I say, offering my hand for a handshake before turning to Shauna and the photographer. "Ms. Bailey, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Mr. Montgomery," she says with a smile. "This is my photographer, Mike Hall."

"Nice to meet you, sir," he says before adjusting the camera equipment on his shoulder to offer a handshake.

As Mina offers her own handshakes, I turn to Adrian and motion for him to come forward.

"And this is my partner, Dr. Adrian Wilks."

Peggy extends her hand. "You're a veterinarian, correct?"

"That's correct," Adrian says, smiling a little stiffly as he shakes her hand. "I mostly work with household pets, but I really enjoyed my farm rotation in vet school, so I'm excited to be here."

She grins. "Well, then let's get moving."

I nod and gesture for her to lead the way. As we move, Adrian's hand slips into mine. He doesn't feel tense, though, and I can't help but feel a little relieved at that.

The tour starts with the farm's cheese and soap making facilities, which, according to Peggy, should be running well enough to start going back to farmer's markets in about a month. They had to shut down that part of their operations when they started having trouble managing taking care of the goats. But thanks to the grant covering animal care and farm maintenance, they're able to start production again. From my team's research, it sounds like their story isn't an uncommon one. The ability for farms to participate in farmer's markets just keeps getting harder and harder with the lack of government support.

"Are you expecting more rescues soon?" I ask as Peggy brings us to the newly constructed barn, which isn't currently housing any goats.

"Actually, we are. That's why my husband wasn't able to be here for the tour today. We got a call last night from a nearby farm that needed to re-home some of their livestock," Peggy explains. She goes to slide open the barn door for us to look inside, but is interrupted by a young woman running up, looking a little frazzled.

"Peggy!" She slides to a stop in front of us, panting slightly.

"Ellie, what is it? I'm giving Congressman Montgomery a tour," Peggy says, giving the girl a pointed look.

"Sorry, Mr. Montgomery, but it's urgent," Ellie says to me before focusing her attention back on Peggy. "Freya went into labor, but I think she might have dystocia because she seems really distressed. I tried calling the vet, but they said he's out at another farm, so—"

"Can you tell what position the kid is in?" Adrian asks, his sudden interjection surprising me.

While he hasn't seemed too anxious during the first part of our tour, he has been quiet. Although, knowing how seriously he takes his job, it makes sense how he'd immediately push his introverted nature to the side in the wake of a potential animal crisis.

"Sorry, I'm a veterinarian," he explains with a small grimace when Ellie looks at him startled, like she hadn't noticed he was there next to me, holding my hand.

"Oh, um, not really. I definitely saw hooves, but I couldn't tell past that," Ellie says hesitantly.

"The kid's head may be tipped back," Adrian says with a calm seriousness I've never heard from him before.

"Dr. Wilks, I know you said you work with small animals, but would you maybe be able to help?" Peggy asks, sounding considerably calmer than Ellie, but still worried. "Mr. Montgomery, would you mind?"

Adrian glances at me out of the corner of his eye, as if searching for approval, and I squeeze his hand once before letting go.

"Not at all. He's all yours," I say.

"Lead the way," Adrian says.

We all take off in the direction of the older barn, with Peggy, Ellie, and Adrian all moving at a significantly faster pace than the rest of us.

"Sorry, this isn't exactly the story we promised you, Ms. Bailey," Mina says as we walk.

"Are you kidding? My editor is going to love this. Plus, I've never witnessed a goat birth before," Shauna says with a grin. She speeds up slightly, Mike on her heels, evidently not wanting to miss a moment.

By the time we get to the barn, Adrian has suited up in some sort of spare coveralls and a pair of plastic gloves that go up past his elbows. He catches my eye as he steps into the pen where the mama goat must be, and I give him a quick reassuring smile. Although, it doesn't seem like he really needs it. For as high-stress as this situation is, I don't think I've ever seen him this calm. He exudes confidence as he gets to work, checking out the mama and her incoming baby, calming her down in a way that almost seems like magic. It's kind of beautiful to watch. It also makes him at least ten times more attractive.

I lean against the railing as he starts to assist the mama in pushing out the kid, clearly having fixed whatever the heck dystocia is. I feel Mina lean on the fence next to me, but I can't tear my eyes away.

"Well, this isn't the press I had planned, but I'm not mad about it," she says in a whisper.

I hum distractedly.

"Sir?"

I blink and turn my head toward her. "What?"

"Oh my God," she mutters. "He's covered in goat birth, and you're making googly eyes at him."

"I like watching him in his element," I say defensively.

"Yeah, well, rein it in while there's a reporter still here," she warns gently. "I'm happy that you're so smitten with him, but you look doe-eyed and lovesick."

And yeah, I am smitten. Completely smitten.