Instead she just scoops up some sorbet, licks it from her spoon, Danny’s eyes on her lips.
But he’s not to be deterred.
“For the record?”
“Yeah?” CJ asks, tasting sorbet and wood and some bitter gall at the unfairness of it all, to have him so close and yet so unattainable.
“I don’t think you’re done.”
“Why not?” she asks, rooted in place by the affection in his gaze, the softness of his voice.
“Because you don’t want to be,” he says simply.
“That’s not a good enough reason to keep us in the White House.”
“I’m not talking about the White House, CJ, I’m talking about you.”
“Without the White House-.”
“That’s crap,” he cuts her off gently. “You and I both know that it’s crap. You’re not here, in this job, because it’s the White House. You’re here because you want to do something, to help people. Still work to do, and you’re gonna do it.”