Swear (Landry Family #4)

by Adriana Locke

  My hand touches the side of his face as the heat of my tears slides down my cheeks.

  “A few weeks ago, I talked to your father.”

  Just the mention of him causes my heart to flex in my chest. My bottom lip begins to tremble and I can barely see him through the onslaught of waterworks.

  “He gave me permission, and his blessing, to ask you to be my wife.”

  I hear gasps from around the room, but all I can do is watch the man in front of me, on his knee, telling me he did the one thing that matters. He thought of it all.

  “It would be the biggest honor in the world if you would be Mrs. Ford Landry.”

  “Yes,” I whisper. I don’t think twice about it. I don’t overthink it or reconsider. I just go with my gut, and that says to scoop this man up.

  Ford brings a ring out of his pocket. A large but not gaudy diamond sits in a gold band encrusted with tiny diamonds. It’s simple and elegant and something I’d pick myself if I had the choice and resources.

  “The diamonds around the edges are from your mother’s ring,” he whispers just for me to hear. “Your father gave it to me.”

  I throw myself at him, telling him how much I love him and how happy he makes me. It’s a ramble, a tear-filled slug of words that I’m not even sure is coherent.

  He stands, pulling me with him. “I have one final question.”

  “What?” I laugh, wiping my eyes. “What else could you possibly ask me?”

  “Will you marry me right now?”

  I gasp. Mallory gasps. I think everyone might suck in a breath at Ford’s unexpected question.

  “If you don’t want to, we can wait,” he admits. “If you want a big wedding, I’ll throw you the biggest damn wedding Savannah has ever seen. But we have a pastor here and he’s in possession of a wedding license we can sign . . .”

  I search his eyes. I have no fear, no second thoughts—nothing but a smile on my face. “Yes. Let’s get married. Tonight.”

  We take our positions in front of the podium to the cheers of the Landry family behind us. We sign our names to the marriage application and then hold hands as he reads from the Bible.

  Our vows are repeated simply, easily, just like our relationship. And in a few minutes, we, too, are pronounced husband and wife.

  The family nearly attacks us with hugs, kisses, and tears of joy. I’m welcomed to the family by promises of love, offers of goodwill, and warnings to prepare to fight over pie at Thanksgiving.

  It’s simply one of the best moments of my entire life.

  After everyone moves back into the kitchen, with Lincoln suggesting they break out the tequila, I finally make my way to Alison.

  “I’m sorry we just butted in on your wedding,” I say.

  She tosses me a wink. “Ford ran it by us before he did it,” she laughs. “We thought it would be fun to share an anniversary with you.” Pulling me into a hug, she grins. “Congratulations, Mrs. Landry.”

  “Wow,” I say, trying to wrap my head around that. “I mean, to you too. But doesn’t that sound . . .”

  “Amazing?” she offers.

  “Amazing,” I concur.

  It’s in this moment with this family, my family, that I realize I’m truly going to be okay. That the best things in life come when you take a chance and do things because they simply make you smile.

  I look at Ford, my new husband, talking quietly with his father. It’s a simple scene—two men talking with glasses in their hands. My cheeks split as I feel my chest warm in a happiness that I can barely contain.

  “What are you thinking about?” Danielle asks, coming up beside me. “You have a pretty serious look on your face.”

  I tear my eyes away from Ford and look at her. I shrug. “Just how I need to remember that when storms roll in, how beautiful the rainbow is going to be.”

  “YOU DID IT.” FORD CAGES me into the corner of the back room of Halcyon, his lips hovering over the shell of my ear. “I am so proud of you, Ellie. You may have had to take a few extra weeks with everything that’s happened, but you did it.”

  I haven’t stopped smiling all day, the grand opening of the store I’m so incredibly proud of. Twisting in his arms, I see my happiness reflected on his face. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “While I love that, it’s a lie. You did do it without me.” His eyes widen, as if to remind me it’s a touchy subject.

  I giggle. “I didn’t do it without you! You’ve weighed in heavily on some aspects. I couldn’t have finished painting the ceiling without you. Don’t forget that,” I say, tapping him on the nose.

  “I’m so glad I was able to do that. Lord knows you couldn’t have had that done by anyone else.” He takes my hand and leads me towards the front.

  “No one would’ve looked as good as you shirtless,” I point out.

  The crowd we’ve had all day has dwindled. We officially closed almost an hour ago, but how do you kick people out when you’re so grateful they’re there? You don’t. You smile and chitchat and refill the cookie tray by the front door.

  Violet left a few minutes ago, leaving me to enjoy a little time with Ford and his family.

  Taking in the few faces still here, I’m overcome with emotion. That’s been happening a lot lately. Everything makes me cry. Violet thinks I’m a lunatic, and Ford worries I’m unhappy, but in reality, it’s the opposite: I’m just incredibly happy.

  Ford drops my hand and heads off to see Sienna, one of the reasons why we had such a fantastic day. She and Camilla invited all their friends, all of their mother’s friends—practically all of Savannah. With their charm and connections, they took my dreams and made them a reality.

  Sienna reaches up and wipes at Ford’s cheek. I watch his muscled shoulders rise and fall as if he couldn’t care less that my lipstick was imprinted on his face.

  “Hey.”

  I look to my right and see Camilla.

  “Cam, I just wanted to thank you again for—”

  “Will you stop it?” she laughs. “You’re family, Ellie. We take care of our own.”

  I feel the burn in the bridge of my nose that tells me I’m going to be fighting tears any moment.

  “You and the little one,” she says, touching my stomach. “I’m pulling for you to be a girl.”

  “I’m not sure Ford can afford me if I have a girl,” I laugh. “I’m not even a girly-girl, but if this one turns out to be . . .”

  “Girl,” Camilla says, putting a hand on her hip, “if I get a niece, you better watch out! Dani says we spoil Ryan, which might be true, but a girl? All the things, Ellie. All the things.”

  Her cheeks redden a bit, her eyes sparkling. A weird look flickers across her face as her smile just grows.

  “Cam?” I ask curiously. I can’t help but return her smile.

  “You guys are giving me baby fever,” she giggles. “I just want to hold a baby, cuddle it, breathe in that baby scent. I could hold Ryan all day if Lincoln would let me.”

  I yelp as someone bumps me from behind. Ford’s arms go around my waist and pull me in to his chest. He rests his chin on the top of my head. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “I—” Cam begins, but is interrupted by the husband of one of their mother’s friends.

  “Good to see you, Ford,” he says. “How’s life going?”

  “She’s pretty good.”

  The man looks confused and then down at me. With a slow nod, he gives Ford a small smile. “That’s good. We are heading out. I just wanted to thank you, Mrs. Landry, for opening another business to take all of my money.”

  We all laugh as he and Ford bid their farewells and he exits, followed by the last two shoppers. Violet motions that she’s going for a coffee down the street and slips out behind them.

  The sun begins to set outside, the sky lit up with a spectrum of pinks and purples. It’s a beautiful evening, the perfect cap to a perfect day.

  I twirl the coin in my pocket that
Huxley gave me as I watch Sienna make her way across the room.

  “That went over well,” Sienna says. “What a day, Ellie!”

  “I know. But my feet hurt,” I wince.

  “Let’s get you home and in the bath.” Ford grabs my hand and squeezes it. “You two need to hit the road.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Camilla laughs.

  I look up at my man and silently ask him if I can start the plan we’ve talked about since yesterday afternoon. He winks.

  “I want to invite the two of you to our house this weekend,” I say, trying to quell the burst of excitement in my belly. “I’m going to make dinner and would like you all to come.”

  “You do realize there are a bunch of us, right?” Sienna laughs. “You’re cooking for us all?”

  “Yup.”

  “Even Mom usually hires a caterer at this point,” Camilla giggles.

  “I want to do it,” I say fervently. “And I’d love for you to be there.”

  “Only if I can come early and help.” Camilla pulls me into a hug. “I don’t want you stressing my little niece out.”

  “Wait,” Sienna says, holding a hand up. “It’s a girl?”

  “We don’t know,” Ford says. I elbow him in the gut and he winces.

  Sienna’s brows pull together as she assesses the situation in front of her. “You guys know something. What is it?”

  “It’s a secret,” I say, giving Ford a look to be quiet. “One that you can be in on if you come to dinner on Saturday.”

  “Count me in,” Camilla says.

  “You,” Ford says, pointing at his blonde sister, “can only find out if you bring whoever it is you’re seeing.”

  Cam sighs, rolling her eyes. “Stop it.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “No, he’s not,” I say. “Of course, he’s welcome, whoever he is. But you can come without him.”

  “Just bring him, Cam,” Sienna gripes. “I’m tired of being in the middle about this.”

  “I can’t.” Camilla’s voice is a clear warning to her twin to tread lightly. “You know I can’t.”

  “You can. You just won’t.” Sienna gives Ford and I quick hugs and heads to the front door, Cam at her heels. “I’ll see you Saturday, I guess.”

  “Bye, guys,” I call out.

  As the door closes, I nearly fall backwards into Ford’s arms. I yelp as he picks me up, my legs dangling over one of his powerful arms, and look into his handsome face.

  Just looking at him makes me smile. Not because he’s my husband or so incredibly good-looking with his sun-kissed skin and rugged jawline, but because of what I see buried in those blue eyes.

  It could be described as love. Maybe respect. There’s a possibility it could be lust. But I think it’s more than that. It’s the look of forever.

  “I love you,” I whisper to him, my hand finding the side of his face. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

  He grins. “Pinky swear?”

  “Pinky swear.”

  The End

  Read more about the Landry family:

  Sway (Barrett)

  Swing (Lincoln)

  Switch (Graham)

  Swink (Camilla—coming summer 2017)

  Continue on for an excerpt from Sway,

  and a taste of my standalone novel, Sacrifice,

  both available now.

  Alison

  “THIS IS A SINGLE GIRL’S paradise.”

  “No,” I grimace, blotting the spilled cheese sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical island with a hot cabana boy at my beck and call . . . and an endless supply of mojitos.”

  Lola laughs, the sound barely heard over the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting instructions, event planners panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy endeavor.

  I step to the side to allow Isaac, a fellow server and Lola’s gorgeous friend with benefits, to scamper to the ballroom a few feet away. He’s tall with a head full of dark curls and a laugh that makes you involuntarily smile. Lola is crazy for keeping him at arm’s length, but that’s how she operates. He has little money; she has limited interest.

  “Cabana boys may have hot bodies and virility, Alison, but they lack two very important qualities: fame and fortune.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that you’d take a limp dick over a hard one? Interesting,” I say, rolling my eyes and tossing the sauce-soaked rag into the linen bin.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid cock. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all and I wouldn’t care.”

  “If that’s the case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “there are tons of opportunities out there to not get fucked.”

  I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s not kidding.

  Lola and I are a lot alike. We both come from meager backgrounds and Luxor Foods is our second job. There’s no doubt we both would rather not be here because serving rich bitches can be a very humbling experience. But they are also the best parties to work because they tip. Very well. Of course it’s so they can feel above us most times, but we’ll take it. It’s money in our pockets, and if they get off on it in the process, good for them.

  That being said, Lo took this job to afford her manicures, pedicures, and eyelash extensions. I do it to take care of my son, Huxley. Lola’s first job is working at a salon and her career goals include marrying up in the world. I, on the other hand, work at Hillary’s House restaurant during the day and go to school for journalism in hopes to one day write pieces that might inspire someone.

  “Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes aglow, “did you see Mayor Landry?”

  “I love how you segued into that,” I laugh.

  “It’s a linear comparison. Tell me that fucking isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think of him, and I’ll call you a liar.”

  Of course it’s the truth. It’s the first thing that comes to mind . . . and maybe the second and third too.

  Thoughts of the recently crowned Most Eligible Bachelor make me a swoony mess. Barrett Landry’s thick, sandy brown hair that always looks perfectly coiffed, his broad, friendly smile that makes you feel like you could tell him your darkest secrets without judgment, his tanned skin, tight body, wide shoulders—the list goes on. But it all leads, as Lo so candidly pointed out, to thoughts of him stripped down and wearing only his charismatic grin.

  I shiver at the thought.

  “See?” she grins, waggling her finger in my face. “Linear comparison.”

  “I’ll give you that. He’s so seriously fine.”

  “Have you had a chance to get close to him? To breathe him in?”

  “Breathe him in?” My laughter catches the attention of our boss, Mr. Pickner. He twists his burly body our way, letting us know we’d better get to work.

  “I haven’t,” I say, turning back to Lola. “Even though I’ve been around men like Landry before—well, not quite like him, but as close as a mortal can be—I don’t think I could handle it, Lo. He scrambles my brain. I’d probably fall face first into him and dump the drinks in his lap. Then we’d both be wet.”

  She swipes a tray off the table and shoots a wink at Isaac as he walks back in. “It would so be worth it if you played your cards right. You could probably get away with running your hands through his hair and maybe even licking his stubbled jaw. A kiss would probably be over the top, but his Southern roots would keep him from causing a scene and asking for security.”

  “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” I ask in mock horror.

  “Of course I have and every other woman in here has too. Hell, half the men probably have,” she giggles. “In my fantasy, he gazes at me with those emerald green eyes and leans in and—”

  “Ladies! Back to work!”

  We sigh as Mr. Pickner barrels by. He’s an overwe
ight, balding, temperamental asshole of a man, but he owns the premiere catering company in all of Georgia. So we deal. Barely.

  Lola bumps me with her hip. “Seriously. Stop being so goody-two-shoes and go out there and snag you a man and a retirement plan.”

  I bite my tongue. We’ve had this conversation a number of times before and she just doesn’t get it. I don’t fault her though. Most people don’t. They see the glitz and glamour, the designer labels and fine wine and get drawn in like a Siren’s call. That life looks too good to resist, too good to be true.

  The thing is—they’re exactly right. It is.

  She reads the look on my face and we start towards the door. “I know, I know. You lived like that once. It’s a fantasy, smoke and mirrors . . .”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, I say I’ll play in the smoke as long as the mirrors make me pretty.”

  I snort, pushing open the door to the ballroom. “You go right ahead and dig that gold all the way down the aisle.”

  “I’ve got my shovel right here.” She shimmies her backside in my direction. “See that one over there?”

  Following her gaze across the room, I see a man I know is one of the Landry brothers. There are four of them and two sisters, twins, if I’m not mistaken. I don’t really follow that kind of thing much, but they’re basically Georgia royalty, and even avoiding current events as I do, you can’t help but pick up on some of their lives. Every newscast, it seems, has something Landry-related even when it’s not election season.

  “I’m going to check him out,” Lola says and takes off, leaving me standing with my tray of ridiculously overpriced champagne.

  I roam the outer edges of the elegant ballroom, giving a practiced smile to each person that plucks a drink off the tray. Some smile widely, some try to chit-chat, some completely ignore me like they probably do the paid staff at home. It’s fine by me.

  A few years ago, I attended events like this. Married to my college sweetheart, a newly minted judge in Albuquerque, we went to balls and galas and swearing-in ceremonies often. It was a magical time in my life, before the magic wore off and everything exploded right in my face.