My chuckle has little to do with amusement and more to do with my struggle to contain the frustration I feel. “Oh, I don’t know. Because we’re your family. Because we don’t see the world through rose-colored glasses. Because we don’t stand to gain from any interactions you have except to see you happy and healthy.”
“I am both,” she says, getting her nerve back. “I’ve never been happier, as a matter of fact. I wish you all would stop seeing me as some little girl that’s clueless and trust me to make my own decisions! It’s like you think I’m not following along Landry protocol so someone has to intervene. I don’t need an intervention.”
“If you want to be treated like a big girl, Cam,” I say, looking her square in the eye, “we’re all happy to do that. Be sure you’re ready for it.”
My words hit their target. She falls back slightly in her chair, the fight leaving her eyes. While it gives me some relief that she hasn’t completely lost her mind, it does cause a little bubble of regret to begin to form.
I sigh. “I know what it feels like.”
“What?” she mumbles.
“I know what it feels like to look around our family and feel …” I struggle to find the word, “… different than the rest of them.”
This gets her attention. Furrowing a brow, she adjusts in her chair. “What could you possibly know about not fitting in around here? You’re Ford. The hero. The one of us that’s never done anything wrong but be a feather in our parents’ cap?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Oh, Cam.”
“What?” she asks, joining my laughter. “It’s true. Even when Barrett was the Mayor, I know Mom and Dad worried about some of his … extra-curricular activities?”
“Nice way of putting it,” I wink.
“And Graham is definitely Dad’s favorite, but even he worries sometimes that G will make the wrong decision or is working too much. And Lincoln …”
Our laughter starts up again, that one not needing an explanation.
“But you?” she shrugs. “You’re Ford, the military boy. The pride of the Landry family. The one that took after Grandpa Landry and went the honorable route. The one that -- by listening to our parents rave to their friends -- can do nothing wrong.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. I’ve never thought about it like that, didn’t think it was like that. It certainly doesn’t feel like it. It never has.
“Did you know I went into the military in part because I didn’t know what else to do?” I ask her.
She responds with a confused look.
“I graduated from high school and had no idea what I wanted to do. I had Dad shoving me towards business. I swear he had this vision of Graham and I working together, his office right in the middle,” I laugh. “Then I had this baseball scholarship sitting there from Texas … and I didn’t know what to do.”
“Good problems to have.”
“I felt so … different,” I say, giving her word back to her. “I couldn’t see myself wearing a business suit every day, crunching numbers and scheduling meetings like Graham. Kill. Me. Now.”
“But that’s what you do now, right?”
“Sort of, but I’m also in a very different time of my life now, Cam. I would’ve hated this ten years ago.” Shoving back from my desk, I stand, letting the chair roll back and bump the window. “The point is that I didn’t want to follow along with what everyone wanted me to do. I couldn’t imagine playing baseball every day. What’s the point in that?”
She grins. “Lincoln found one.”
“Linc found a couple thousand with nice racks,” I laugh. “And good for him. That’s what made him happy. It wouldn’t have me.” Sunshine beats in and warms my skin as I watch the cars below struggle to get to their destinations. “This family is so goal-oriented,” I say, more to myself than to Cam. “It’s all about the next check-off point, the next level, the next dollar. I had a really hard time with that for a while.”
I turn to see my little sister looking at me. She looks so young sitting there and I calculate how old she is. Then I consider how I felt at her age.
I was just starting to figure out who I was then. I’d seen enough, done enough, been exposed to enough to know what I wanted. What I liked. What I hated. If someone would’ve told me at her age I was wrong for feeling a certain way, I’d have been pissed. Just like she is.
I ran away from my problems and fears. At least she’s fighting for hers.
“Talk to me,” I say. “What’s going on?”
Her eyes flip to the floor as she wrings her hands in her lap. “I met a guy.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?” She looks up at me again. “Did Sienna say something?”
“Sienna has your back to the grave.”
“Then how do you know?”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, Cam. It was obvious to everyone weeks ago.”
She fights the smile stretching across her face, and it’s then I know—she’s much deeper in with this guy than any of us thought.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, it matters.” I quirk a brow. “What’s his name?”
“Look—”
“Why are you doing this?” I sigh. “Just tell me his name so I can figure out who the hell he is—and by that I mean who he is to the rest of the world and not just Camilla Jane Landry.”
Her courage is back. She narrows her eyes. “You know why I won’t tell you?”
“I’d love to know.”
“Because you won’t give him a chance.”
Putting my hands in my pockets, I sigh. “Is he that bad, Cam?”
“No. He’s fantastic.”
“But we’ll just hate him right off the bat because he’s so fantastic?” I groan. “I can’t deal with this.”
Falling back in my chair, I open my laptop. The screensaver waits for the password. I start to type it in when she speaks.
“What if I told you,” she says, gulping, “that he’s kind to me? Sweeter than anyone I’ve ever met? What if I said that he’d do anything to protect me, that he’s loyal … like you? What if he was a businessman and started a company from the ground up to take care of his family?”
I consider this. “I’d ask to meet him to see for myself.”
“What if I’m not ready for that?”
“Cam …” I bow my head. “I can’t guarantee you that I’m not going to search around and see what I can find out.”
“Ford—”
“But,” I say, giving her a look, “I will promise you that when the time comes that we meet, I will give him the benefit of the doubt.”
This puts a twinkle in her eye. “You will? Honestly?”
My shoulders slump as I admit defeat. My natural inclination is to go all crazy-brother on her right now, but I know better. I know how she feels. She needs someone on her side, someone that knows what it’s like to want to color outside the lines a little bit. Someone to tell her it’s all right to break protocol.
“As long as he treats you well—”
“He does!”
“And he doesn’t get you involved in anything dangerous or illegal—”
“He wouldn’t do that, Ford.”
“Then I’ll meet him with an open mind. Soon,” I say, giving her a warning look. “I’ll meet him soon.”
“Soon … ish,” she responds. Waltzing around my desk, she places a kiss on my cheek. “I knew you were the logical one.”
“That may be true,” I tell her. “But remember one more thing, Cam.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll also be the first one to kill him.”
She giggles as if she thinks I’m playing and almost skips towards the door. “Thanks for talking to me, Ford.”
“Any time,” I sigh.
“One more thing,” she says, her hand on the knob. “You said you left in part because you didn’t know what else to do. What was the other reason?”
My shoulders fall. “Story for another day, Cam.”
“Fair enough. See ya later, Ford.”
I know for the first time what Graham must feel like. Thank God I’m not him.
Twenty-Five
Ellie
I glance at his text again.
Ford: I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t wear anything nice.
It’s three minutes until seven, he isn’t here, and I’m dying to see him.
My fingers begin to fly across the keyboard, demanding information, when I hear a knock at the door. Just knowing it’s him makes my heart flutter.
It’s so funny how having someone in your life that’s supposed to be there changes everything. Mornings are a little easier because I might get to see him. Laundry isn’t as mundane when you’re mentally putting together outfits so you look on top of your game when you see him -- a man that always looks great no matter what. Each minute can be changed by a single thought of him and something he said or a way he looked at you.
I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning. He had a family commitment last night that I was invited to, but didn’t feel comfortable attending. Today was a hellish day for both of us at work. It feels like too long since I saw him and that’s nerve-wracking.
“Hey,” I say before the door is even pulled open.
He doesn’t greet me with words, just a deep, soft kiss that is almost as if he needs the contact or he may suffocate.
Pulling away, I giggle. “Nice to see you too.”
“I been trying to get over here for the last forty minutes,” he groans. “There was an issue with the event Landry Security is doing tomorrow night and the organizer from their end is incorrigible.”
“That sucks.”
“It does. But now I’m here and everything is better,” he admits.
“Not everything,” I sigh. “I was just texting you.”
“What for?”
“Well, I was antsy, really,” I laugh. “But your instructions to dress down have thrown me a little. I dress down already, so dressing more down …” I make a face.
“You could keep dressing down, and I think I’d like it even more.”
There’s a hint of innuendo in his tone, a little shimmer in his eye, and I take a step back. Pulling the neckline of my shirt down to expose a sliver of cleavage, I say, “Oh, dress down like this?”
I’m over his shoulder before I know what’s happening, my shrieks of laughter filling the house. One hand squeezes my butt, holding me firmly against him.
“What are you doing?” I laugh, pointing to the bedroom door. In a matter of seconds, I’m on my back and he’s on top of me.
“Exactly what you just asked for,” he grins.
“I don’t recall asking for anything.” I run a fingernail down the side of his face.
His eyes heat, his Adam’s apple bobbing so sexily that I almost gasp. His fingers work the button of my jeans and they’re slipped down and discarded, along with my shoes and socks.
The air is cool as it touches my skin, but my temperature rises as I watch Ford undress. He maintains eye contact the entire time, ridding himself quickly of his attire.
As he climbs back on top of me, I drape my arms over his neck. I press a kiss to his lips. “Just looking at you is like foreplay,” I admit. “Damn it, Ford.”
He grins, allowing me to roll him over and sit my pussy over his cock. I can feel the heat radiating off me, my wetness making our bodies slip as I gently rock my hips back and forth.
“I can’t wait,” he says, lifting his hips. He palms his length. As he positions himself against my opening, I lick my lips.
“I want you inside me. I want you so deep that you—oooh!”
In one deft movement, he slides in me. My body feels amazingly full, like every sensory organ is being overwhelmed in the most delicious way.
“Like that?” he growls.
“Yes.”
Moaning, my head falls back and the ends of my hair swish against Ford’s thighs. He digs his hands into my hips and I rock back and forth, craving as much contact as I can make.
“Damn,” I hiss, rolling my hips slowly. “This is heaven.”
He lifts his hips, sinking even deeper into my body. I feel my wetness when I reach behind me and palm his balls.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, throwing his head back into the pillows.
I massage them, watching the look of pure delight dance across his face. “Feel good?”
“So fucking good.”
As I release him, he flips me to my back. My foot goes flying, knocking over the menagerie of things on my bedside table. The sound of little candies pouring onto the bed rattles through the room.
I giggle, trying to move so the hard pieces don’t get under me. It’s futile. Every adjustment I make allows more to roll beneath me.
“Shit,” I laugh. “That’s kind of a mood killer.”
“That’s all it takes to ruin your mood? Guess I’ll have to work at getting you back where I want you.”
I lie still, watching him methodically pick up one piece of candy in each color. “Be still,” he warns as he places a red one in the hollow of my throat. “Don’t move or it’ll fall.”
He shoots me a devious grin as he places another candy between my breasts.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to stay still.
“Shh …”
A purple candy sits just beneath my chest and a yellow one is placed in my belly button. With a smirk to die for, he watches my reaction as he sets an orange one at the apex of my thighs.
My breathing gets more ragged as he positions himself between my legs. His hair is mussed up, his eyes downright sinful.
“What now?” I whisper.
He shuffles to the side, placing a green one on the peak of my closed lips. Maintaining eye contact the entire time, he lowers himself push-up style and swipes the candy from my lips. I grasp his biceps, feeling the muscles flex under my touch.
As my jaw slacks in response, he takes advantage and enters my mouth with his tongue. He kisses me with a fervor I reciprocate.
When he pulls back, I pout.
“Trust me,” he winks. Lowering himself again, he forms an O over the candy at the base of my throat and sucks it into his mouth.
I hiss, sucking in a deep breath. My nipples harden, peaking, begging for attention. “This better not take too long.”
“You’re going to have to be patient,” he warns, swallowing the candy.
He moves down my body, appreciating every curve and bow of my figure with squeezes and kisses as he goes. I feel his cock hard against my leg as he repositions himself. My pussy clenches in response.
He draws my nipple into his mouth, rolling the hardened bead around his tongue. I knot my hands in his hair and pull, letting out a drawn-out moan.
“You’re killing me,” I tell him, dying.
His tongue drags hot and wet across my chest, catching the candy on the way to my other nipple. Using the candy as a prop, he rolls it over the tip of my breast. I writhe against his body, beginning to lose my mind.
He moves lower down my body, swiping the next candy and then sucking the piece from my belly button. His mouth is hot, his tongue heavy as he drags it across me.
I suck in a quick breath, my skin on fire. Goosebumps spatter the surface, my hips rising, begging for action.
Looking up at me as he gets settled between my legs again, he grins. “Need something, El?”
“Yeah. You. Inside me.”
“I’ll be happy to do that. In just a second …”
I growl, falling back into the pillows.
Nudging my thighs apart with his elbows, he presses a kiss to the inside of each of my legs. I feel small bits of pressure parting me and I look down to see him pressing candies along my slit.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my jaw hanging open.
Ford splays his hand at the bottom of my belly and uses his thumb to apply pressure to my clit.
“Hold still,” he smirks.
“Hurry up, Ford,” I groan. “You’re being mean.”
“I’m about to be very,” he says, leaning forward, “very,” he hovers his mouth over my opening, and as I begin to moan, he whispers, “nice.”
His breath trickles over my opening, warm and heady. Just as I begin to object, he runs his tongue up me, capturing the candies with his tongue.
“Oh my God,” I say, as he grins devilishly at me. Before I can process anything, he buries his face between my legs.
“Ah,” I say on an exhale, trembling. My knees literally quake, my eyes squeezing shut as he makes another leisurely pass to my clit.
“Hurry up. Ah!” I voice as he dips a finger inside me.
“Hurry up?” he laughs. “Baby, I’m just getting started.”
Twenty-Six
Ellie
He takes me in head-to-toe as I fix my hair. I ran a brush through it after our detour to the bedroom, but it’s still wild.
“You look perfect,” he beams. “Go get in the truck.”
We lock up, toss my fishing poles in the back, and take off down the road a couple of hours later than we anticipated.
The windows are partially down. My hair begins to blow like crazy around the cab of the truck despite the elastic securing it. I’m trying to smash it down when he reaches behind my seat and retrieves a Tennessee Arrows baseball hat.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it and pulling it snug over my head.
Ford takes my hand, locks our fingers together, and rests them on the middle console. He holds it tight, brushing his thumb against the side of my palm. They fit perfectly together, his hand nearly encompassing mine.
“I had an interesting conversation with Camilla the other day,” he says, rolling up the windows so we can hear.
“Oh, yeah?”
“She was telling me that whoever she’s gotten involved with makes her happy. Her eyes lit up, you know?” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve never seen Cam like that. I keep thinking about it.”
“Is this the guy that you were looking for? At The Gold Room?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “The Gold Room. I mean, if that name doesn’t tell you everything you need to know.”
The Landry Family Series: Part Two Page 14