Swear (Landry Family #4)

by Adriana Locke

  “And if you hadn’t been so hateful, you could’ve been coming right now too,” she adds.

  “Really, Violet?” I sigh.

  “Yeah, really. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you!”

  As I make my way into the back room and towards the mini-fridge with the small bottles of cheap wine, she just keeps talking.

  “And you can’t pull that ‘I’m so not interested in this hot guy’ act again because that was no run-of-the-mill hot guy!” She wedges herself between me and the fridge. “Don’t even tell me he doesn’t check off every single one your silly little boxes.”

  “What boxes are those?” I tap my chin in faux-thought. “The ones with all the characteristics of a man I actually want? Yeah, no,” I say, rolling my eyes. “He doesn’t.”

  “What could he possibly be lacking? And don’t tell me if he has a small dick because that would just ruin so many dreams I just had.”

  Glaring at her, I move her out of my way and extract a bottle of vino. “He’s handsome. I’ll give you that. He’s intelligent, or he was when I knew him, anyway. He’s sexy as hell and he’s good with his tongue.” I open the bottle and grin salaciously. “I’ll let you consider in how many ways.”

  “Oh, God,” she almost moans.

  “He most likely has a good work ethic and definitely has a good family name. The Landry’s are definitely good people.” I begin to tip back a drink but stop. “And his cock is huge.”

  Violet falls dramatically onto the pink couch in the corner, one hand falling across her forehead.

  The wine goes down effortlessly, the alcohol no match for my amped up state. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “There’s no shame in your game,” Violet says with a touch of disgust on her face. “I feel like I should join you, but I have a suspicion you aren’t celebrating.”

  “What would I be celebrating, Vi?”

  “Call me crazy, but if any female I know, other than you was asked out to dinner by a man looking half that good, they’d be celebrating.”

  “Most women have no idea the destruction a man looking half that good can cause.”

  The look I give her works. She frowns, holding up her hands as if she’s surrendering.

  I’m grateful that the ribbing stops. My head is going too many directions and her jabs just keep spinning me around. Flopping down next to her, I take a deep breath, glad I no longer smell eau de Landry.

  “This is not what I had planned for today,” I say on a sigh. “Or ever for that matter.”

  “How long has it been since you saw him?”

  “Almost ten years.”

  “Wow.”

  I rest my head on her shoulder. “I started dating him when I was almost fifteen. We were together all throughout high school. I went to public and he went to Providence, a private school across town. We spent almost every evening and all our weekends together from the day we met until the day he left.”

  “Oh,” she draws out, putting things together. “He’s the one . . .”

  “Yes. He’s the one that, after the worst few weeks of my life, signed up for the military and took off.”

  The look of pity is the exact one I’ve tried to avoid. That’s why I never delved into the ins and outs of my relationship with Ford. It’s the same reason I’ve never even really said his name.

  I don’t want pity because I don’t want to seem pitiful. While he may have decimated me in the past, I am where I am because of that. Because of him.

  “I’m so sorry, El. Had I known that was him, I wouldn’t have been so ga-ga.”

  “Yes, you would’ve,” I laugh.

  “Well, probably,” she giggles. “But I wouldn’t’ve been as nice. How’s that?”

  “That’s fair.” Raising my head, I manage a real smile. “I know you look at him and think one thing. I don’t blame you. But don’t blame me for not being in that same boat.”

  She grins. “I don’t blame you for not being in the same boat. I blame you for not being in his bed.”

  “You are a crappy friend,” I laugh, standing and heading back to the fridge. “A good friend would have my back right now.”

  “What must’ve he done to you?” She gasps. “Did he cheat on you? If he cheated on you, that’s it. He just fell from an eleven to a seven.”

  “Just a seven?” I pull out another bottle of wine.

  “I just can’t go below a seven and not lie.”

  “Well, he didn’t cheat. I don’t think he would cheat, actually. It’s not in his makeup.”

  “Good. I’ll bump him to a nine until I hear the offense.”

  Violet might be my best friend in the entire world, but there are reasons I haven’t told her the details. I haven’t told anyone. I don’t know if I ever will. It’s too embarrassing and makes me sound too weak, too much like a lovestruck teenager.

  “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” she asks.

  I slump back into the sofa beside her.

  Finally, she looks at me and smiles. “Maybe this is the universe’s way of putting you two back together.”

  “Maybe this is Mallory’s way of being a busybody,” I counter. “Or the universe telling me I did fine without him.”

  Violet’s inner romantic is dying over this. She’s plotting out our romance novel already. She’s nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet.

  “This isn’t like you and Luca,” I warn her. “There isn’t going to be some whirlwind reunion like the two of you have every year.”

  “But it could be,” she insists “You’ve been in love with that guy, rightfully so, since the day I met you.”

  My heart breaks a little. I won’t admit that and I won’t deny it either. Neither would make a difference.

  “Love isn’t always enough,” I say. “Besides, I’m not sold on the idea that I loved him anyway. Maybe I loved the idea of him or it was some first-love thing that I haven’t gotten over. That’s normal, I think.”

  Violet just looks at me unconvinced.

  “He didn’t come here to see me, Vi. He came here to do business.”

  “You could’ve been his business, methinks.”

  “Burn me once, shame on you,” I say, standing up. “Burn me twice, shame on me.”

  “Burn me three times, he must be really hot,” Violet winks.

  She wraps her arm around me and says the first thing she’s said today that makes sense. “Let’s grab that other bottle of wine and get back to work.”

  Ford

  THE SOUND OF THE DOOR shutting echoes through the foyer of Graham’s house. I march through the marbled hallway towards the lights in the back. The house smells like cilantro and pepper and it makes my stomach rumble. After the shock of the afternoon, I forgot to have lunch.

  I’ve held myself back from calling Graham about Ellie today for three reasons. One, I needed to wrap my brain at least halfway around it before I faced their—meaning Mallory’s—onslaught. Two, I know they expected a call and it would drive them crazy not knowing what I was thinking. Three, I wanted to do this in person.

  My self-restraint was worth it. The looks on their faces as I waltz into the kitchen is everything I imagined it would be. Shock. Anticipation. Maybe even a little fear.

  So worth it.

  Graham is standing behind the island, facing me, a large knife in one hand and a cutting board filled with vegetables in front of him. Mallory is at the stove, but quickly turns away from me like whatever she’s cooking is the most important thing in the world.

  “How was your day?” I ask. Swiping a piece of cauliflower off the board, I head to the dine-in table. I don’t sit. I’m entirely too keyed up to relax.

  My blood pulses through my veins at a heart-attack tempo. It’s not that I’m mad, because I’m not. Ellie is the reason I accomplished not even a piece of paper’s worth of work once I got back to the office. She’s why Hoda got to go home early today. It’s because I saw her that I feel like I’m walking on air and my b
rain is firing on all cylinders.

  I set my gaze on my brother.

  “I had a fine day,” Graham says carefully. “What about you?”

  “My day was peachy.” I motion towards Mallory. “What about you, Mal? How did your day go?”

  “It was good.” She tries to sound chipper, but I hear the stress in her tone. I almost laugh.

  “I thought you would’ve called me today,” Graham says, looking at the green pepper in his hand.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Oh, just . . . you know . . .”

  “What you pulled today deserves way more than a phone call. This deserves a personal visit.”

  Graham makes a face as he slices the pepper. He’s still trying to figure out how to play his hand, and I’m not giving him anything to go on. He’s frustrated—that’s clear. Curious, too. But I’m not about to make this any easier on him. It’s too much fun watching him squirm.

  I start to speak again when we hear footsteps and it’s just a few seconds before Camilla comes in.

  “Do any of you knock?” Graham asks, looking between Cam and I.

  “You don’t at my house,” I point out.

  “Or mine,” Cam says, also helping herself to the veggies in front of our brother. “I don’t even have the ability to go on a date without a series of questions. So, yeah, I think walking into your house is acceptable.” She crunches on a carrot. “How are you, Mallory?”

  She looks over her shoulder at my sister before accidentally meeting my gaze. She turns back quickly to the stove. “Good,” she mumbles.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Swink?” I ask, using the family nickname for Camilla.

  “Sure. But why?”

  “I’ll be the one asking questions.” I stand tall and look at my brother. “I’d like to blame this on you, G, but I have a feeling the guilt lies . . . elsewhere.”

  Mallory rolls her shoulders up and down but still doesn’t turn around. A grin tickles the corner of my lips, but I fight it. I don’t want to give them something to go on quite yet.

  You could hear a pin drop as they await my next move.

  “How’s yoga going, Cam?” I ask, knowing it’s only going to drive Graham even crazier. “Have you been attending classes regularly? Really working on your flexibility?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been working on my Handstand Scorpion,” she offers. “Why all the interest?”

  “No reason. What about you, Mal? How have your classes been going?”

  “Great. Enrollment is up. It’s going well.”

  Graham drops the knife with a sigh. “I can’t take this. Cut the shit. How’d it go with Ellie, Ford?”

  “Oh, crap,” Camilla mumbles, leaning away from me like I might explode.

  “Did you know about this?” I ask her.

  “Um . . . kind of?”

  “Let me ask you all, since you’re co-conspirators from what I can gather: What on the face of the Earth made you think it was a good idea to send me to see her with no warning?”

  They all start to talk at once, Mal’s hands flying through the air, Camilla bouncing off her chair, Graham holding his hands out in defense. I whistle as loud as I can and they stop mid-sentence.

  “Mallory? You’re up,” I say, flashing her a look.

  “I put two and two together a couple of days ago.”

  “How? Did she say something about me?”

  “Not exactly,” she admits. “She mentioned being from here and said just enough about a guy that she never named that matched with things Graham or you have told me. I couldn’t help it, Ford. I didn’t think you’d be mad.”

  Leaning back against the table, I blow out a breath. “This isn’t a blind date. Ellie and I know each other. There’s a history there and that makes it entirely more complicated than a blind date. And you,” I say, turning to Camilla. “You were in on this?”

  “I wouldn’t say I was in on it,” she winces.

  “Oh, you were too!” Mallory cries. “You helped me get the plan together.”

  “And you went along with it.” I look at Graham. “Fuckin’ A, G. I didn’t expect this out of you. Don’t you have enough shit to do than worry about what or who I’m doing?”

  “I’ll have you know I was against this at first,” he says, popping a cherry tomato in his mouth. “But when I realized it was Ellie, I thought these two were on to something for once. Maybe you needed to see her and get some closure or whatever it is you need.”

  Mallory steps towards me with a look of determination on her face. “I didn’t think this was overstepping, but maybe it was. I just want you to be happy, Ford.”

  “Maybe my happy doesn’t look like your happy,” I suggest.

  She moseys up to Graham’s side and wraps her arms around him. “Don’t lie to me. You want what we have so bad you can taste it.”

  “I can taste it all I want and not have the responsibility,” I wink.

  “You—” The ringing of her phone cuts her off. She looks at the screen sitting on the counter and then at me. “It’s Ellie.”

  “Answer it.”

  “But—”

  “Mallory . . .” I warn.

  She scoops it up and holds it in the air. “Fine. But I’m talking to her in the living room.” I hear her greet Ellie, and I find myself holding my breath. Graham is watching me and so is Camilla, but I’m mentally walking into the other room with Mal.

  I wonder what Ellie is saying and if she’s angry or amused or upset. I had to fight myself all day from going back to Halcyon or digging up her phone number and calling her. But why would I call? To apologize? I wouldn’t for showing up today. That was a gift I’ll thank Mallory for later after I’ve managed to screw with her some.

  I don’t know what I’ll do if Mallory comes back in here and tells me Ellie is adamant I don’t show up again, if she decides she really doesn’t want to see me again after our encounter today. There’s no way in hell I can go about my life and pretend I don’t know she’s living and working in Savannah. This is something I’ve not even had the courage to hope for over the last few years and here I am—in the same city with her. Both of us unattached from what I can tell. And we both feel the connection we’ve always had. I know that to be a fact.

  Camilla’s hand hits my bicep. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “These two came to me with this idea—” Graham begins before Camilla interjects.

  “Easy on the blame game there, G.”

  “I told them to stop getting in your business,” he continues. “But then I thought about it and realized they’re right.”

  “Thank you!” Cam says. “I went to the late class rather than the morning one like I usually do when Mallory called me asking about Ellie and I realized it might really be her. Sure enough, it was. I had Joy do all the dirty work of finding out if she was dating anyone or seemed like she’d gone off the deep end since I saw her last. I did my homework, Ford.”

  “They kind of made me proud when they came to me with a plan in place,” Graham almost beams.

  “Watch it or I’ll be taking your job,” Camilla laughs.

  They banter back and forth, and I struggle to hear Mallory’s end of the conversation. Her voice trickles into the kitchen, but not loud enough to make out words. I’m relieved when she appears in the doorway. Her phone is at her side. My eyes are glued to it, hoping that maybe Ellie is still on there and wants to talk to me. But when I look back at Mal’s face, I know it’s not true.

  “What did she say?” I ask, a hint of nerves in my tone.

  “Not much . . .” She continues her pace across the room until she’s standing at Graham’s side. “She’s a little angry, I think. Maybe it’s more just shock. I’m not really sure.”

  “Did she say anything about me specifically?”

  She considers this. “Yes. Of course. But . . .”

  “But you aren’t going to tell me, are you?”

  “I can’t,” she sighs.
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  “You did this,” I point out, flashing Graham a quick look too. “I should be a hell of a lot more pissed off than I am because I’m still reeling from it. Ellie’s just not another girl, and you two,” I say, motioning to my siblings, “know that.”

  My chest rises and falls beneath my white dress shirt. Suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe deeply enough. I work to undo the top two buttons, but my fingers fumble. Camilla takes pity on me and reaches up and helps me out.

  “Answer me this: are you sure she isn’t in a relationship?” I ask.

  “She’s not,” Cam replies. “She told Joy she hasn’t been in a serious one in a long time.”

  My brain roars to life, processing a thousand memories, a million ideas, in a few short minutes. “Is she going to have a serious problem when I show up there again?”

  “You’re really going to go?” Mallory asks with a wide smile. “She said you mentioned it, but she thought you were just kind of blowing off at the mouth.”

  “Do I ever do that?”

  “Yes,” Camilla says at the same time Mallory says, “No.”

  “You three should’ve handled this differently.” I look pointedly at Graham. “For how smart you are, you can be really fucking stupid.”

  “But . . .” Mallory goads.

  “But I can’t worry about that right now because I have to figure out how to make her not throw me out of Halcyon when I show back up there.”

  Camilla squeals, clapping her hands. “It worked!”

  “It didn’t work yet,” Mallory warns, her grin slipping. “Ford may have his work cut out for him.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I’m a working man then, huh?” I wink. Walking by the island, I snag another piece of cauliflower. “We will revisit this subject later.”

  “Hey, Ford!” Mallory calls.

  I turn to look at her.

  “I told you I saved the best for last,” she winks. “Does this mean I’m right?”

  “No,” I say, heading to the door. “It means you stepped in shit and just happened to come out smelling like a rose.”

  Ellie

  I SLEPT LIKE CRAP IF I even slept at all.

  All night, I was buzzing around like I’d drained a pot of coffee. I cleaned the kitchen cabinets, scrubbed the bathroom floors, and found and matched up all the socks strewn around the laundry room. Basically, I did all the chores I put off because I couldn’t sit still.