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Swink

Page 12

by Adriana Locke


  “Not while you have my kid you don’t.”

  “I forgot about that little shit,” I joke. “This blows, you know it?”

  “If you believe what you say, it does. I happen to think you’re full of crap.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yup.”

  “Look at our mom,” I say, going to a place we don’t often. “Her parents were decent people. Good people. She got with our sperm donor and look what happened to her. It was like that Jack Nicholson movie where he’s not crazy, but they make him believe it and he kind of is at the end.”

  “But—”

  “Or Keeley,” I say, wincing as his features drop. “She was a hell of a mom to Ryder and a good wife to you. She loved you and that kid. Then she got hanging around with Bond’s ex-wife, took the needle in her vein, and was dead in six months.”

  Nate runs his hand over his face, still not completely over the death of his ex-wife. They’d divorced when he found out she was hooked on heroin and he got custody of Ryder. He loved her, even then. There’s no doubt he always will.

  “I can’t let that happen to Cam,” I say quietly. “She has the world, Nate. Everything anyone could ever want, she has it. The only direction she can go is down and she can go so fucking far down if she turns the wrong way that . . .”

  My head shakes side to side, my eyes forcing closed not wanting to imagine Camilla as anything as she is right now. Happy. Bright. Lively.

  “I’m afraid I can’t protect her from all that shit, Nate.”

  He looks at me with the pity that I’ll only take from him. I’ll take it from him because he understands my plight. He’s been there. He knows the anguish even more than I do. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying.”

  “Cam’s a hard girl to distance yourself from,” I grin. “I tell myself if I’d realized it when I met her, I would’ve stayed away. But I know that’s a lie. There’s nothing in the world that would’ve stopped me from seeing her, just like I’m having an impossible time telling myself to stop seeing her now.”

  “Do you have to though? I mean, it’s not about money, and she’s not some chick from the bar or whatever. She has a house. A gate. Security if she wants it. She can kind of take care of herself.”

  “Then what good am I? Why would she keep me around if I can’t even protect her?”

  “The dick?”

  “This isn’t funny,” I say, but find myself laughing anyway.

  “To answer your question,” he says, making his way to the door, “you could love her. And be there for her. And support her. That’s what I think about when I think about the good times with Keeley. That’s what I miss. I miss seeing her eyes light up when I’d bring her home little gifts or the way she’d look at me like nothing else mattered. Like we were a team. We’d talk about what we wanted in life and how we were going to get it and dream and plot and plan and laugh at how dumb we were.”

  With a little smile, he opens the door. “I gotta go or I’m going to be late. Be home later.”

  “See ya.”

  The door snaps shut and I’m left standing in the kitchen. The picture is crooked on the wall where Nate tried to rehang it after my tantrum yesterday. The picture itself is one from my grandmother’s kitchen. It hung in there my entire life. It reminds me of ham loaf and mashed potatoes and Gospel songs on the radio while we ate with plastic silverware in front of the television.

  With a sad smile, I head down the hallway to check on Ryder.

  Camilla

  “THOSE ARE SUPER CUTE.” JOY points at my new yoga pants and smiles. “Where’d you get them?”

  “Halcyon,” I say in reference to Ellie’s store. “She has a new line in and they’re amazing. I love them. She has these in green too.”

  “I might run by there tomorrow. Cute workout clothes make me want to wear them which, in turn, gets me off my butt and into the gym. Sometimes.”

  We go back to stretching after our yoga routine. I planned on skipping today, but after yesterday, my body needed the release.

  I kept my phone in my pocket all evening yesterday and even took it into the bathroom while I soaked in the tub just so I wouldn’t miss his call in case one came through. I warred with myself whether or not to just call him but decided he might need the space after dealing with my brothers. Maybe I needed a little time, too, to let things marinate.

  “So,” Mallory says, plopping down beside us, “Sienna said Ford and Linc met your mystery man yesterday.”

  I eye my sister as she sits in between Mallory and I. “Yes. They met Dominic.”

  “Oh, he has a name,” Mallory teases. “You know, I feel like I’m ostracized from information because of Graham.”

  “You know, you feel right,” I laugh.

  “Okay, but you guys directed me to him,” she protests. “It isn’t fair that I don’t get to be one of the girls.”

  “Whoa!” Joy says, cutting in. “Did you say Dom had lunch with your brothers?” Her eyes are wide, her jaw hanging open. “I know none of you want to hear this, but that’s like alpha heaven right there—no offense, Mal.”

  “That’s gross,” Sienna flinches. “Except for the Dom part. I’ll agree with you there.”

  “Hey!” I laugh.

  We break into a fit of laughter, each of us mentally erasing a different part of that statement. It’s Mallory that brings us back to topic.

  “So,” she says, “this non-info thing. It’s not fair. It’s not like Graham is going to marry me or something.”

  She rolls her eyes and tries to make it seem offhanded, but it’s not. There’s a pain on her face that Sienna and I both pick up on.

  “What’s going on with G?” Sienna asks.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Mallory frowns. “I’ve left every possible hint that something needs to happen. There’s a bridal magazine on the coffee table. I’ve been talking about flowers and good months for weddings. And . . . nothing.” She worries her lip between her two bottom teeth. “Look, I know in the grand scheme of things we haven’t dated that long. I get it. But, hell, I live with the man. I can’t as much as look at another guy without him taking me home and . . .”

  “Yeah, just trail off right there,” I wince.

  “No. Don’t. I’ll take details,” Joy jokes as Sienna elbows her.

  “We’re together. I can’t imagine not being with him, and I don’t think he has plans to not be with me,” Mallory laments.

  “He definitely doesn’t,” Sienna agrees. “It’s Graham, Mal. Everything has to go on his time. At his pace.”

  “On his schedule,” I add. “Maybe he’s scared. He’s never really done the serious girlfriend thing before.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want that with me,” she says. “I see everyone in your family getting married, having babies, and I just want to be a part of that. I watch Dani with Ryan and I get . . .”

  “Baby fever?” Joy offers.

  “Yeah. That.”

  “I think the Landry boys do that to everyone. Sorry. Again, no offense,” Joy adds.

  “None taken,” Mallory sighs. “I know he loves me. He bought this place for me. We’re married in every way that counts . . .”

  “Except for the one that does,” I finish. “I’m sorry, Mal. Want me to talk to him?”

  “No,” she says, getting up. “I don’t. I just need to stop feeling sorry for myself and enjoy what I have.” She flashes us a smile that’s only mildly happier than her frown. “I have another class to teach. Talk to you guys later.”

  “I have to go too,” Joy says. “I need a shower after all that visualizing.”

  “You’re so gross,” I say as she and Sienna trade goodbyes. Once she’s gone, my twin looks at me.

  “What are you doing today?” she asks.

  Pulling my legs together like a butterfly, I shrug. “I don’t know. I need to go by Dom’s in a little bit and grab my laptop. I left it over there and I need it to send a few emails about the charity thing coming up.�


  “How’d it go yesterday? You didn’t call so I was afraid to ask.”

  “The actual meal didn’t go too bad . . .”

  “What’s wrong, Swink?”

  “I don’t know. I just . . . Dom said some things that bothered me.”

  “What about?”

  I look at my sister. Her eyes reflect my concern. “A lot of things. Me. Him. Us.”

  “You didn’t break up because you’re not in bed crying.”

  “No,” I chuckle. “We didn’t. I don’t think. I mean, we didn’t talk much when he did call because he had Ryder and was distracted. But he seemed fairly normal and insinuated he’d see me today.”

  We exchange a look.

  “Let me give you a ride over there,” she offers. “That way if things aren’t all abs and awesome, I can take you home. And if they are, I can leave you and you can figure out how to get home on your own.”

  Standing up, I laugh. “Abs and awesome?”

  She stands too and tosses an arm over my shoulder. “Are there two better words to describe Dominic?”

  As we head into the sunshine and towards her SUV, I concede. “No, I guess not.”

  My knock is light, not sure if Ryder is awake or asleep, and also because I’m a little less enthusiastic about being here than I was. Dom’s car isn’t outside. That was a little deflating. I shot him a text that I would be here, but didn’t hear back.

  As I’m ready to tell Sienna we should just go, the door flies open. Nate is on the other side, his face breaking into a smile as he sees us. “It’s not every day you open the door and see not one but two beautiful women on your doorstep.”

  “How are you?” I grin.

  “Good. You?”

  “Decent. I left my laptop in Dom’s room. Can I grab it?”

  “Sure. Come on in.” He pulls open the door and lets me and Sienna inside. “Dominic’s at the gym. He’s been there for a few hours, so he should be back if you want to wait.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Should I?”

  “What she means,” Sienna says, “is give us the dirt, Nate. What’s he saying that she isn’t supposed to know?”

  Nate belly laughs and I see Sienna’s gaze go to the sliver of abs that’s visible as his shirt slides up. “Just get to the point, Sienna.”

  “It’s how I roll,” she shrugs. “So spill.

  “He’s not saying much.”

  “And you lie.”

  “He’s my brother,” he emphasizes. “If Priss told you shit, would you tell me?”

  “No.”

  “And you expect me to tell you stuff?”

  “Yes,” she sighs dramatically. “The bro code isn’t the same as the sister code. You still have to tell us stuff.”

  Nate looks at me, shaking his head. “How do you deal with this?”

  Laughing, I plop down on the sofa. The cushions squeak as they sink into the old springs beneath them.

  “Oh!” Nate says, “Check this out.”

  He grabs a set of papers from the kitchen and spreads them on the coffee table in front of me. Sienna sits beside me and we take in a bunch of paint samples, light fixture images, and flooring options.

  “Nate, if you didn’t know, I love design,” Sienna squeals, sorting through the items like a kid in a candy store.

  “That’s what I heard,” he says. “I like this one for the floor. It’s durable and—”

  “And keeping it looking nice will be a disaster,” Sienna says, tossing it to the side. “Now this one is durable and would be easy to keep clean.”

  “But how are you ever going to match what’s already there with that feel?” I ask. “Unless you’re changing the trim and bar and all that, it’ll look crappy. Even with paint, the styles don’t match.”

  My sister’s gaze flies to mine, her eyes shining. “You are good at this.”

  “She’s good at a lot of things.”

  Our heads twist to the side to see Dominic standing in the doorway. Dressed in red mesh shorts and a sweaty white t-shirt, the sight of him alone makes my entire body clench.

  His hair is a mess, his cheeks still red from the workout. Not to mention he’s wearing yesterday’s stubble like it’s a high-fashion accessory.

  “We didn’t hear you come in,” Nate says. “I was showing the girls the stuff for the bar.”

  Dom’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Cam, why don’t you come here for a minute?” He shoves off the doorway and heads down the hall.

  “Go on,” Sienna whispers. I can barely hear her over the blood rushing by my eardrums. “I’ll stay out here with Nate.”

  Forcing a swallow of my own, I head down the hall and find Dominic sitting on his bed. I step inside the small room and close the door behind me. My feet stop just a few inches from the threshold as I try to make sense of the look on his face.

  He doesn’t smile, doesn’t glare. Gives me nothing to base a decision off of.

  “Are you okay, babe?” I ask softly.

  “Come here.”

  The gravel in his tone skirts over my skin as I take the three steps to the bed. His arms are around me, his cheek pressing into my stomach before I can even get situated in front of him.

  He holds me tight, almost knocking me off-balance. I rest my arms on his shoulders, cradling the back of his head as he nuzzles against me.

  Instead of talking, I run my hands down his back until I hit a spot that makes him wince. As he pulls back, I catch a flash of pain in his eyes.

  “What happened?” I ask, moving around him. Climbing on the bed, I lift the edge of his shirt. There’s an angry, red burst on the right side of his back, halfway between his shoulder and hip. “I’ll grab some ice.”

  He looks at me over his shoulder, his blue eyes clear. “Just stay with me. Tell me about your day.”

  The simplicity of his request both worries me and comforts me. Before I answer, I help him lie back, probably more help than he needs, and prop his side up with a pillow. He grins the whole time as he tells me it’s unnecessary.

  “I don’t care if it’s necessary,” I groan. “Let me make myself feel better about this.”

  Once he’s settled, I lie next to him. “You smell like sweat.”

  “You like it and you know it.”

  “I didn’t say I don’t,” I smile. “I was just pointing it out.”

  “What did you do today?”

  “Went to yoga. Talked to Mallory and Joy for a little while and then came by here to grab my laptop.”

  He runs a finger down the centerline of my face. “You didn’t come here to see me?”

  “I hoped you were here,” I admit. “But you didn’t answer my text so I wasn’t sure.”

  “I was training. My fight is coming up and the guy I’m going to fight has a helluva ground game.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  He grins. “I know you don’t. Keep it that way.”

  “But I want to know. I want to understand you. What those things mean, why you like fighting.”

  “I don’t think you can understand it. You’re not cut from that cloth.”

  There’s a finality in his voice, one that tells me he’s made up his mind. Before, it was more open-ended. Until today, there was a little window of opportunity that was left dangling out there for another time and place. That’s closed.

  “I could learn that cloth,” I offer.

  He kisses me simply, easily, just a sweet gesture that turns me to mush. “You’ll be happy to hear that I think this is my last fight.”

  “I am happy to hear that. But what changed your mind?”

  “My body isn’t cut out for it anymore,” he says, curling his nose. “It hurts when you get hit.”

  “I thought you didn’t let them hit you.”

  “I don’t. Not on purpose,” he laughs. “My reflexes are starting to catch up with my age and fighting is a young man’s sport.”

  “Quit now. Don’t get hit anymore.”

  “I can’t. I
need this payday.”

  The thought of him taking abuse for money makes me physically ill. “Dom, if it’s about money, I—”

  “Don’t.” His eyes back up his insistence, the combination chilling me. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “What you were just about to do. I’ll take care of myself.”

  “I don’t understand you.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  The wall between us is back up. I can feel the gate locking in place. Reaching out, I touch his arm. Tracing the tattoo of the cross for Joey, I try not to lose the easiness between us, but it’s already gone.

  My phone rings in my pocket and I fall on my back and pull it out. “Hey, G,” I say, looking at the ceiling.

  “Where are you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No, actually, it doesn’t. What matters is that I’m going to arrive at your house in about thirty minutes and I need you to be there. Can you do that?”

  I look at Dom. His eyes are closed, his breathing even. “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “See you then.”

  The line clicks dead. Putting it back in my pocket, I roll over and press a kiss to Dom’s cheek.

  “Where are you going?” he asks sleepily.

  “I need to go home and take care of a few things. Do you need anything?”

  “A kiss.”

  I lower the few inches to his sweet lips and let my own pucker against them. He moves his mouth against mine—slow, steady, and sinful. When I pull back, breathless, his eyes are open. He doesn’t smile. “Call me later, Cam?”

  “Will you answer?”

  “Yeah.”

  His eyes close again as I climb off the bed. I get to the door but stop and look at him. “Dom?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I miss you.”

  “You’re with me.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He looks at me and nods. “I miss you too.”

  Camilla

  I DON’T EVEN LOVE WINE, but I take a gulp anyway. It’s strong and bitter, and I realize I should’ve checked to see if wine expires before taking as large of a drink as I did. This bottle has been in my refrigerator since Sienna came back home for Barrett’s campaign. That’s been . . . a long time.

 

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