Sway (Landry Family #1) (23 page)

“Alison,
with all due respect
, you aren’t intruding.” He looks at the ceiling before finding me again. “You’ll be my guest. How’s that?”

He snickers at my reaction.

“Yeah, that’ll go over really well,” I say.

“Exactly. You show up with me, and I’ll guarantee you Barrett will fall all over himself to be with you. He’s not going to leave us alone together,” he winks.

“I’m taking that to mean you’ve had arguments over girls before?”

“Nope,” he says, popping the last sound, “because my brother has never had one before you that would’ve been worth my time.”

My cheeks heat at his words and his cocky little grin goes wider. A dimple sinks into his cheek just like it does Barrett’s.

“Today, my brother needs you,” he says, laughing as Huxley comes barreling down the hallway with a grin a mile wide. “So if you think as much of him as I think you probably do, which is half as much as you should think of me,” he smirks, “get your stuff and let’s go.”

Barrett

“Motherfucker,” I grimace, feeling my blood pressure soar through my veins. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not kidding about any of it,” Nolan says through the phone. “Apparently she’s saying you knocked her up a couple of years ago and paid for her to abort the baby.”

“It’s bullshit,” I say, exasperated. I fall back into my chair and peer at the lawn of the Farm through my office window. “I only dated her for a couple of months. I barely even remember her.”

He laughs, but it’s not one of amusement. “I’m sure. The faces must bleed together at some point.”

“Very funny, Nolan,” I groan. “Just deny it. I don’t fucking know. Make her come up with proof because there is none that ties it to me.”

“You know she volunteered to not say anything if you cut her a check for fifty thousand.”

“I’m not paying her fifty cents. This is extortion.”

“This is politics on a grand scale, Barrett. She won’t be the last, so prepare yourself.”

I can hear the judgment in his voice, the sound that says without saying that he’d be a lot happier managing Graham or Ford than me.

My head begins to pound harder than it’s pounded all day. I’ve been working since before the sun came up with no break for lunch or even coffee. The bag of food Rose brought in at some point midday is sitting on the table by the window untouched.

He ends the call without a goodbye and I sit watching the driveway. Standing, I see Troy’s Rover coming down the bend and I glance at the clock. “Shit,” I mutter, looking at the stack of papers I have left to work on, even though the day is done.

The car rolls to a stop and a number of doors open and slam. I hear voices, more than Troy’s, one in particular that’s a little sweeter than the others.

What the hell?

I see Alison standing next to my driver as Lincoln and Huxley head to the lawn beside the house. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt, her hair pulled into a messy knot, and has no makeup on. And I don’t think I’ve ever found her to be more beautiful than I do right now.

She looks at me, a hesitant smile ghosting her lips. I flash her a finger to tell her to hold on and take the steps down the staircase two at a time. When I reach the porch, she’s sitting on the swing, watching Hux and Linc.

“Hey, you,” I grin, sliding into the seat beside her.

“Hi,” she breathes, her hand falling into mine. We lace our fingers together and I give hers a gentle squeeze.

“I want to kiss you,” I say, “but I don’t know if I’m supposed to do that in front of Huxley or not.”

The breeze picks up her laugh and carries it across the yard. Lincoln looks up and catches my eye and just nods. I nod back, knowing he arranged for this after seeing me nearly having a breakdown this morning.

“Well, I’d like to kiss you,” she replies, “but I’m not sure if I’m even supposed to be here.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

Shrugging, she watches her son toss a ball back and forth with my brother. “Are we interrupting anything? Linc just showed up and basically dragged us over here . . .”

“So you didn’t want to come?”

Her face twists to mine, her eyes soft. “Of course I did. But I don’t want to be a thorn in your side. And Huxley is here, and I don’t know—”

“I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad he’s here too.”

“You are?”

“He’s part of the deal, right? I mean, I can’t take you and not take him, even if he doesn’t think I’m the coolest Landry brother,” I wink.

“No, he certainly comes along with the package.”

“And I happen to like your package,” I whisper, making her laugh as a ball is overthrown and rolls to the porch.

Lincoln and Huxley race to retrieve it, landing in front of us. They’re laughing, out of breath, and Linc leans on the railing. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, his Arrows hat pulled low over his eyes.

“So,” he says, not looking anywhere but at me.

“So,” I say back, trying to keep my face as blank as possible. This just amuses him more and I can’t help but let my lips part into a grin. “Nice job.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, knowing exactly what I’m thanking him for. “I told Ali if you didn’t want to see her, I’d be more than happy to hang out with her.”

I start to respond with a big “Fuck you,” but remember Huxley is standing right there. “You’re pushing it, Linc.”

He bursts into laughter and looks down at his new friend. “Can your mom play baseball?”

“No,” Huxley groans. “I don’t get a lot of practice in because she and my grandma kinda stink. Sorry, Mom.”

Alison laughs beside me. “It’s okay. It’s true.”

“So, your dad or uncle or brother aren’t around?” Lincoln asks, making me cringe internally. I don’t want the kid to have to start talking about things I know aren’t easy for him or his mother.

“I don’t have a dad,” Huxley says, his words enunciated very carefully. “Or a brother or an uncle. I have a grandpa, but he works a lot. So it’s just me and my mom and my grandma.”

Hearing the words come out of his mouth twists at my heart. I can’t imagine my life without my father or my brothers or sisters. They’re a built-in network of support, even though half the time I want to kill them. But I’d rather have them annoying me than not have them at all.

My heart breaks for this kid, and as Linc forces a swallow and looks at me out of the corner of his eye, I know his does too.

“The next time you come out here, we’ll bring a glove for your mom and Barrett, and we’ll teach them to play. That way, when I have to go back to Tennessee, you’ll have someone to practice with.”

“When do you have to leave?” Huxley asks.

“In a few days. But I come back a lot to visit. Otherwise, my mom cries. You know how that goes,” Lincoln says, rolling his eyes for effect.

“Yeah,” Hux huffs, making us all laugh.

Lincoln takes off his cap, a purple hat with a golden A on it, and plops it on Huxley’s messy head. “I gotta get a drink. I’ll be right back.”

He disappears in the house and as I start to speak, Alison’s phone rings. She looks at the screen.

“It’s Luxor calling,” she says. “I need to get this and confirm my schedule for the next couple of weeks.”

I nod but realize how much I hate it that she’s catering jobs with assholes like me. She should be getting to stay home and take care of her kid and focus on school and whatever makes her happy.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I look at Hux. We’re alone, the two of us, and I have no idea what to say to a child. I don’t watch cartoons. He doesn’t read papers. What could we possibly have in common?

As my brain scrambles for something to say, Huxley does me a favor: he takes charge.

“You like my mom, huh?”

Shocked, I try to compose myself. “I do,” I say, going for the truth. “She’s pretty special.”

He nods and ponders his next question. “How much do you like her?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I like her a lot. She’s nice and smart and really pretty,” I wink, hoping he at least kind of likes girls at his age. I liked them as soon as I could see, so I’m hoping we have some bond there.

He rolls his eyes.

I wince.

“I think my mom likes you too.”

“Do you now?”

He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “She’s a lot happier lately. She sings songs in the shower and while she cooks and doesn’t get so mad about the baseball cards all over my bed when I forget to put them up.”

“I’m glad she’s happy.”

“Me too.” He kicks at a rock. “You will be nice to her, right?” He looks at me with the most sincere little eyes I’ve ever seen.

I lift off the swing and kneel at the edge of the porch so we’re eye-to-eye. “I promise you I’ll be nice to her. And if you ever think otherwise, you can call me or come talk to me, and we’ll discuss it.”

“Really?”

“Really. She’s your mom, Huxley. I respect you wanting to protect her. That’s a very big job.”

He grins, just like Alison when she’s on the verge of being embarrassed. If I weren’t trying to solidify my position in their world, I’d laugh.

“My dad wasn’t very nice to her.” The pain in his voice is raw, so visceral that it slices me to the quick. “She cried a lot, and I don’t want her to cry, Mr. Landry.”

I reach out, hesitantly at first, and adjust Lincoln’s cap on his head. “I don’t want her to cry either. And I don’t want to make you worry, okay? I want to be her friend and make her keep singing while she cooks.”

The lines around his eyes start to fade and I almost see a smile.

“And Huxley? I want to be your friend too. I know I’m not as cool as Lincoln, but if you give me a chance, I know some fun stuff. And I can get passes to the water park all summer.”

“Really?” he asks, in total awe.

“Yup,” I say, never more appreciative of the little perks of my job. “And, like I said, if you ever have problems with anything, you call me. Man to man.”

“Man to man,” he repeats. “I will, Mr. Landry.”

“One more thing. Call me Barrett. Only people that want to fu—,” I catch myself. “Only people that want something from me call me ‘Mr. Landry.’ Okay?”

“Okay,” he grins a wide, toothy grin.

Barrett

I TOSS THE FOLDER ACROSS
the desk. It slides over the glass top and smacks the side of my pen holder.

“Damn it, Nolan. He had no problem with the budget until now. You know as well as I do that Monroe’s called him and put pressure on him to, you know, put pressure on me.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Nolan pushes his glasses to the end of his nose and looks at me from across my desk.

Groaning, I push my chair back and give myself some space.

He flips through some papers and pulls out another sheet. “This was sent today certified mail.”

He tosses it on my desk and I sweep it up, a feeling of dread sinking into my stomach. “What’s this?”

“It’s a letter from the attorney of a Gabriella Winston, also known as the mother of your unwanted baby. She’s raised her price to a hundred thousand,” he sighs.

“Not happening.” I wad the letter up and toss it into the garbage before looking at Nolan again. I shoot daggers, not necessarily at him, but at the idea that someone would use a topic so sensitive and make it up out of thin fucking air to hurt someone else. “Does she not have a fucking conscience?”

“These are things you ask yourself before you get involved, Barrett.”

“She’s out of her damn mind if she thinks I’m enabling her on this. Fuck this and fuck her.”

“She’s going to go public.”

“Good for her. Let her. And watch us torch her back in the press. She wants to play, we’ll play.”

“We can’t do that, Barrett. Unlike her, you have a public image to consider.”

“Which is exactly why she’s doing this! She’s going to tank my image to profit, using an abortion as the kicker. That’s fucking sick.”

He starts to argue when a knock raps at the door. Graham pokes his head around the corner. “Am I interrupting?” he asks.

“No,” I grimace, sitting up in my chair. “Come on in.”

He nods to Nolan and shuts the door behind him. Striding across my office, he takes a seat. “I come bearing bad news.”

“Great,” I sigh, wishing this day was over already. “Give it to me.”