Sway (Landry Family #1) (19 page)

“I had no idea,” I say in astonishment.

“I was frozen, Barrett. How could I choose what I wanted, which was to keep the baby, and risk so much that affected so many others? It was a terrible position to be in.”

I nod, understanding her position way better than she even imagines.

“But at the end of the day, I was the one that had to live with it. And I couldn’t live thinking that maybe, somehow, it would work out. And I valued that little baby’s life as much as I valued yours, or Graham’s. So I chose to go through with the pregnancy.

“Your father wasn’t pleased. He thought I was being cavalier about it, risking my health for something that may or may not even be feasible. But I made my choice because it was mine to make. And, as we all know, it worked out.”

“But what if it hadn’t?” I say, my brain spinning. “What if you had died or Ford hadn’t made it?”

“It was possible. Nothing is guaranteed. But living and not knowing would’ve been worse than playing it safe. Sometimes, Barrett, you have to take some risks.”

A grin slides across my face, her words as poignant as ever.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You are very welcome. I want to have lunch with you soon if you can swing it. I miss seeing your handsome face.”

“I’ll figure something out this week. I have to meet Monroe in the morning . . .”

She takes in a quick breath. “One more thing—Paulina said she was happy to arrange a dinner for you with some of her friends. I know one’s a prosecutor and one is a tremendous benefactor at the hospital in Mason. Maybe that would help?”

I know Paulina’s dinners all too well, and they always end up with her and me getting it on. I’m normally game for that, but things have changed. Majorly.

“I really don’t have any openings in my calendar for something like that,” I say, trying to dissuade her from pushing the issue.

“She said it’d be something small, something intimate.”

I bet.

I try to hide my chuckle. “It’s probably not a good idea, but please thank her for me.”

“Will do. Get some sleep. We’ll talk soon.”

“Love you,” I say, kicking off my shoes.

“Barrett?”

“Yeah?”

“Trust your instincts. They’ll never let you down.”

Barrett

STEAM ROLLS OUT OF THE
bathroom as I push the door open. It follows me into the bedroom. I pull the towel tighter around my waist, feeling better after the near-scalding water beat down on me for awhile.

My phone buzzes on my nightstand and I scurry across the room to get it. I haven’t seen Alison in a few days, not since the night she agreed to try things with me, and her calls and texts are the only bright spot in a never-ending life of exasperation.

The thought of her displayed just for me, her shy smile, her sweet voice makes my dick hard. I need to see her.

Picking up the phone and swiping it without looking at the screen, a wide grin is planted on my face when I answer. “Landry.”

“Hey, Barrett,” Daphne croons. “How are you, sugar?”

My eyes roll back in my head, my hand finding my hair. Stifling a groan that begs to erupt, I sit on the edge of my bed.

“Not much.”

An awkward pause settles over the line. Finally, she huffs, taking my lack of interest in her pussy personally. “Barrett? What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. I haven’t heard from you, haven’t seen you around at all. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me,” I mutter. “Look, Daph, I’m just busy these days.”

“Let me relieve some stress, sugar.”

I suck in a deep breath and wish I hadn’t answered this call. “That’s okay.”

“You never turned down pussy, especially when it’s mine, and I promise to wear that black lacy thong you love so much.”

Sighing, I try to keep composed. “I’m tired.”

“Too tired to fuck me, huh?” she tempts. “Remember how much you like it when I ride your cock? How you tell me how tight I am, how you love to watch my ass bounce on you when I ride you reverse cowgirl?”

“Daphne. Stop.”

“Why? It’s true. You love how wet I get for you.”

I look at the ceiling like there’s some divine intervention that’s going to happen by studying the crown moulding.

“Look,” I say, my voice raspy, “let’s not go there, Daph.”

I need to make her feel good about getting brushed off. I need her Dad’s endorsement; I can’t have her pissed. That’s not going to help anyone.

“Whoever you’re fucking right now isn’t going to last, Barrett. You know that. You always come back to me.”

“Why make this hard, Daph?”

“I always make it hard. You know that.”

I struggle to not roll my eyes. “Whether that’s true or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m busy tonight. And I will be tomorrow and the next night too, if you’re wondering,” I add.

“So it’s true,” she chirps. “You know our friends are saying she’s not one of us. That she might even be a waitress.”

“Excuse me?” I bellow. “What the fuck does that even mean and why in the hell is it any of your business?”

She laughs in the phone. “That says it all.”

“Don’t you talk about her like that. Like she’s beneath you somehow.”

“Defensive, are we? Wow. She must be a helluva lay to get the playboy Barrett Landry wound around her finger.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Daphne.”

Her laugher gets louder, causing my blood to nearly boil.

“That’s no way to talk to a lady,” she snaps.

“It’s a good thing I’m not talking to a lady then, isn’t it?”

“Touché.”

I hear her dog yap in the background, her doorbell rings. She laughs again.

“I gotta go, Barrett. I have company.”

“Hey, Daph?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t call me again.”

I end the call and toss my phone on the bed. It sinks into my blankets and I wish I could sink in with it.

There’s a raw spot in my gut that I can’t shake. Daphne is a cocktail waiting to explode. She always has been, it’s a part of her DNA. Normally it doesn’t matter, but now that Alison is woven in this situation, it’s unnerving.

I’ve always handled Daphne with some charm and cock; I can’t do that now. Moreover, withholding both from her will only direct any reaction to Alison, the one person I don’t want to feel the crazy.

Picking my phone back up, Alison answers in a few rings.

“Hello?” she asks sleepily.

“Hey, you.”

“Barrett,” she says. I hear sheets and blankets being moved around. “Are you okay? It’s late.”

I press my fingertips to my forehead. “Did I wake you? Or Huxley? I’m sorry. Shit.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says quickly. “You just scared me, that’s all.”

Blowing out a breath, I imagine what she looks like in bed with no makeup and some sleepy eyes. “I miss you.”

“Ah, Barrett. I miss you too.”

“How was your day? Did you get your paper done?”

“No,” she groans. “I have another few pages left. I had to work a few extra hours at Hillary’s and then Huxley’s homework was out of control. You should see the amount of stuff he has to do every night. It’s incredible.”

A vision of me sitting at a table with Hux going over science problems and history questions flashes through my brain. I can see it so clearly.

“Is he doing well though? Does he need a tutor or anything?” I volunteer.

“No. He’s as sharp as a tack. It’s just so much work that it cuts into the time I have for mine. It’s the life of a single mother,” she says easily. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“If you need any help with any of it—”

“We’re fine, Barrett.”

I hear the warning in her voice, to not step too close. I hate it. I hate having a barrier between us, being told to keep any sort of distance. I want to help her, take the loads off that I can remove without any problem.

“I know you’re fine, Alison. I’m just saying that I’m willing to help.”

“I know and it’s appreciated. But it’s important to me that I do this on my own.”

“Do what on your own? Life?” I gruff.

“No,” she sighs. “Not exactly.”

“You do realize I’m not trying to take anything from you right?” I ask. “I want to . . . add to it. Make it better, easier if I can.”

She doesn’t respond for a long while and I give her time to wrangle whatever it is she’s thinking. I wish I were there with her, wrapping her up in my arms. It would make so many things so much better.

“I don’t mean to push . . .” I say, letting my words fall.

“You aren’t pushing, Barrett. I love that you care.”

“Of course I care,” I snort.

“I just don’t need a knight in shining armor. In my world,” she says, pausing, “I am the knight. I’m the one that saves the day.”

“I can respect that. Just let me be the stallion you ride in on.”

She laughs, a free, flowy kind of laugh that makes me join in. “Barrett Landry, you’re impossible.”

Relaxing back on my pillows, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of her voice. It’s what I needed, my antidote.

“I do need to get back to bed,” she yawns. “I have the breakfast shift in the morning, so my mom will be here super early to get Hux up and to her house to get ready for school.”

“Okay. But I wish I were there with you.”

“I do too,” she whispers.

“I can only imagine what it’s like to wake up next to you.”

Her giggle races through the phone. “We wouldn’t be able to get out of bed.”

“I wouldn’t let you get out of bed,” I growl.

“Which is why it’s a good thing you aren’t next to me right now,” she says. “Okay, I’m going. Call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Talk to you then.”

“Goodnight, Barrett.”

“Goodnight.”

Barrett

MY HEADACHE HAS STARTED TO
wane after an incredibly long morning, but I can feel it lingering right behind my left eye. I'm in a bad mood, especially after reading a new article ripping me to shreds in the press.

I paste on a smile and wave to a little group of women eyeballing me from the corner of the hotel that houses Picante, a restaurant where Nolan and I are meeting Monroe.

Nolan keeps his face forward and pretends not to notice the waves and gestures from my little fan club. It makes the women happier, we've learned, to think they had a “moment” with me. Ridiculous but true.

I usually give them a quick once-over, just check them out a little bit, see what’s being offered. Normally, if I’m feeling particularly interested, I’d mosey over, make small talk, and grab a phone number for later.

Or two.

Hell, sometimes three.

Today I have zero interest.

"Now, when we get in here, I want you to remember that you're here to appease him," Nolan says under his breath.

"We'll see," I mutter.

The elevator door opens and we walk inside. Nolan presses the button to close the doors before anyone can get on with us. We ride in silence for the few seconds until the door chimes and opens into Picante. It's a small restaurant that's used by the wealthy. You pay a membership and they provide you with excellent food and privacy to boot.

The hostess recognizes me immediately and I can see her replaying our rendezvous together a year or so ago. I can’t help but remember her bent over the hood of my car either.

Her lips fall apart and her eyes glaze over, and I try to give her the least encouraging smile I can.

“Mayor Landry,” she breathes, batting her lashes. “How nice to see you again.”

Nolan bristles at my side as I clear my throat. “I believe we have a table waiting on us.”

She nods, blushing, and leads us through the room. “I was hoping it was you and not one of your brothers when I saw the reservations,” she says sweetly as Nolan sticks an elbow in my side.

"Don't forget," he whispers. "You have the Garalent Gala coming up."

The thought makes my temple start to throb again. I don't want to think about that. At all.

“Here you go.” She steps to the side but manages to brush up against me. If Alison weren’t in the picture and this conversation wasn’t going to ruin my mood, I’d probably make plans to see her again.

I glance up at her and she winks.

Today’s not her day.