The Landry Family Series: Part Two

by Adriana Locke

  “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.”

  Seventeen

  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.

  “Ugh,” I grimace but take another sip anyway. I don’t know what’s up with Graham, but after everything else, I need a little fortification.

  On cue, the doorbell rings. Wine glass in hand, another drink tumbling down my throat, I spy G on the other side and pull it open.

  His look is lethal. I almost drop the glass.

  “What’s wrong?” I stutter, watching him charge by. “Graham?”

  Sitting my wine glass on the entry table, I latch the door and turn on my heel. He’s glowering at me from the other end of the foyer.

  I’ve never seen my brother, any of them, so angry. Ever. His eyes are narrowed, wickedly so, as he heaves air in and out of his body. “Just saw Ford,” he says, his words measured. “He said he had lunch with you and Lincoln yesterday.”

  “Yes,” I say, equally measured. It’s suddenly all clear why he’s so angry. Ford told him he met Dom. Thinking fast, I decide to go on the defensive. “And with Dominic.”

  He smiles, but there’s no kindness to it. No amusement. “And Dominic. So, tell me, Camilla, what do you know about Dominic?”

  “All I need to.” When his eyes narrow even more, I see where this is going. Storming by him, I don’t even look his way. “You can see yourself out.”

  “I’m not done here yet,” he barks after me.

  “I am.”

  My steps smack off the tile as I enter the kitchen and position myself as far away from my brother as I can. Knowing this is about Dominic changes everything.

  I generally listen to G. I value his opinion, but I won’t stand in my own house and listen to him take his opinions on a man he’s never met and twist them all around and throw them at me.

  My blood boils, my own eyes narrowing as he stands across the room. “What do you want, Graham?”

  “Let’s start with this: I had breakfast with our mother this morning.”

  “Good for you.”

  “She said Paulina called her last night.”

  “Fuck Paulina,” I say with more emphasis than I even intended.

  He lifts a brow.

  “Yeah, Graham. Fuck Paulina,” I hiss, watching him absorb a very un-Camilla-like display. “Oh, wait, you already did.”

  His eyes darken, making him look more like my father than I’ve ever realized. “Choose your words wisely, Camilla.”

  “The same goes for you.”

  “What’s gotten into you?” he growls. “Is this what he’s is doing to you? Making you some crazed lunatic?”

  “This is a crazed lunatic?” I laugh. “Really? It seems to me that being accosted in my own home and standing up for yourself is a little less lunatic-y than barging into your sister’s house and making her feel like some kind of criminal for nothing.”

  His lips twist together, dismissing me. “I want you to take a good look at yourself in the mirror, little sister, and see if you like what you see.”

  Imagining what Graham is seeing causes me to smile. It’s something he’s never seen before. It’s something I’ve never felt before. Determination.

  I’ve fought with Lincoln before and sparred with Ford, but never Graham. He’s always been so much older than me that our conversations have always been logical, even-footed. Him the older brother and me the younger, more submissive sister. Not today.

  Today it doesn’t matter if I make him mad. I don’t care if he thinks I’m an idiot or calls me foolish. I have absolutely no need to humor him or try to see things from his perspective because he is wrong. On so many levels.

  “Dom has made me see things differently,” I admit. “It’s making me see people differently.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It’s absolutely right.”

  He grabs the back of a barstool at the island and squeezes the top. “Are you aware that your … what is he? Your boyfriend?”r />
  “He’s whatever I want him to be.”

  “Of course he is,” he scoffs. “I’m sure he’s a modern day Romeo.”

  Heaving a deep breath, I look him in the eye. “Graham, I’m trying very, very hard to remember that you’re my brother and all this probably, hopefully, comes from a good place. You’re making it extremely difficult.”

  He considers this. Shifting his weight to the other leg, his eyes never leave mine. “Ford says he thinks it’s serious between the two of you.”

  “Did Ford tell you that they got along? That they had a decent conversation and that he was helping him out with a few things?”

  “I also talked to Lincoln.”

  “Oh, yes, by all means, listen to Lincoln for the first time in your life,” I laugh, which only makes Graham’s anger return. “You should listen to him, actually. You want to know why?”

  “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

  “Because at least Lincoln had the guts and class to meet him and decide for himself. You haven’t bothered to do anything but listen to what you don’t want to hear!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me for not wanting to hear that he’s cocky—”

  “Lincoln,” I say, letting him know I know where he heard that.

  “Unable to take care of you—”

  “Ford,” I sigh.

  “And looks like, and I quote, ‘a man that just walked out of a federal prison,’” Graham concludes.

  “Paulina. Maybe Raquel,” I sigh dramatically. “Did they also mention that he’s smart, has a day job, a night job, and a part-time job,” I say, counting the fighting as a part-time gig. “Did they mention that he makes me feel special? That he’s as overprotective in a lot of ways as you are,” I glare, “or that he’s never been in prison but might just end up there if he heard how you’re talking to me right now?”

  Graham rolls his eyes, making a show of his annoyance. “Are you aware Dominic is Nolan’s nephew?”

  I nod, taking a long, strangled breath. “Yes. I am aware of that.”