"Look, Barrett, I know how Dad can be. But if whatever you said today is what you believe, then by God say it. I've seen people in places you can't imagine that never get the opportunity to speak their minds or stand for anything. You can."
"I know," I sigh. "And you're right. Politically and career-wise, I've done what I think is best. I just hope it doesn't cause a rift in our family."
"It won't." He slaps me on the back. "And now's the time you're gonna find out."
"What do you mean?"
"Dad's here." He walks away from me and into the foyer. I hear him greet our father. After a few minutes, Lincoln joins them and their laughter floats into the kitchen where I'm still standing. Finally, they all make their way to me. My father stops in the doorway, his face now somber.
"Barrett? Can I speak to you a minute alone?"
I shove off the cabinet and follow him through the foyer and out the front door. My father doesn't say anything as we walk, just surveys the grounds like we're taking a Sunday stroll. The nonchalance finally gets to me.
"Dad?"
He stops in his tracks and looks at me.
I sigh, looking at the ground. I shove my hands in my pockets and feel my shoulders fall.
"Barrett, son, I'm sorry I failed you."
"What?" My head whips to him. He's watching me, lines creasing his face.
"I never realized you didn't want to do this, not the way I pushed you to do it. I trusted Nolan and the team because they'd been with us forever.” His eyes blur with unshed tears. “I left you to the wolves, son. I should've been more involved and helped you navigate this. This is my fault."
"Dad, no. It's not."
"It is. I won't lie—I was mad as hell at first. Then your mother sat me down, and we had a long talk and . . .” He shakes his head, his eyes sorrowful. "And I take full responsibility for this. You are my son and you're the best son a man could want."
His voice breaks and I can't take it. I pull him into a hug and fight not to cry. I've never seen my father like this and I don't know what to do.
"Dad. Stop. It's fine."
He sniffles and pulls away, wiping his eye with a handkerchief. "It's fine because you're a lot smarter than me. I've always known you were a better version of me, Barrett. But, even then, I didn't understand what kind of a man you’ve become. I couldn't be more proud of you today. Whether you win or lose, you won in my eyes for standing up to everyone . . . including your old man."
I can't say anything. I just stand there, feeling like a little boy that brought home a good report card. It's silly, yet it's the best feeling I've ever had.
"Barrett!" Graham shouts from the porch, Linc at his side with a shit-eating grin. They point down the driveway and I see a little red car, sounding like a bucket of screws, ambling towards us.
I take off running to the driveway and am at her door before she even gets it stopped. I pull it open and her into my arms. She melts into me, her arms around my waist.
A million things want to come out of my mouth, but none of them do. None of them can. I’m afraid to say the wrong thing, to get too serious too fast, or to apologize when I shouldn’t. If I can just hold her, make her feel what I want to say, that might work best.
Hux gets out of the passenger seat and grins.
“Thank you,” I mouth to him, reaching a hand out and motioning for him to come to me. Instead, he waves, and runs straight for Lincoln.
I can’t help but laugh and realize this is the way things should be. Whether I win or not, this is my world being right.
Ali pulls back and I try to fight her on it, not wanting to spoil the moment, but eventually, I let her. Her eyes are filled with tears, a nervous smile on her face.
“I love you,” I say, looking as deeply in her soul as I can. “I love you so much. I—”
“And I love you. I’m sorry for running.”
“I understand.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I should’ve had faith in you. I should’ve been stronger. I told you to believe in yourself and then I didn’t. No, I did,” she rambles, “I just—”
I kiss her lips, effectively silencing her with a simple gesture that’s more to tell her it doesn’t matter than anything else. “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve believed in me and just done things the way I knew they should be done before today.”
“Before today?”
“Well, yesterday,” I grin. “I fired Nolan. I heard what he said to you and a bunch of other stuff I don’t want to get into. Let’s just say Nolan is at the police department this morning answering some questions.”
“What?” she gasps.
I run my thumbs down her delicate jaw line. “I made a speech today where I said I will support the Land Bill and that you were the love of my life and that I kind of like your kid too.”
“You did?” she whispers, her lip quivering.
“I did. Because I want everyone to know it from my mouth, not from some angled statement from Nolan or Rose or PR. From me.”
She hugs me again and I squeeze her tight.
“I’m never letting you go,” I tell her. “You know that right? If you can’t handle me being overbearing and protecting you and Huxley, doing what I have to do to sleep at night, then you better just get over it.”
“One thing at a time. You have an election today.”
“The vote that means the most is yours,” I say, leading her in the house.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve sealed the deal on mine, Mayor.”
My brothers and father are in the kitchen when we enter. They see us and stop talking, waiting for the verdict.
Grinning, I go to her and pull her against my side. "Guys, meet Alison Baker. Ali, you know Graham and Lincoln." They exchange a small wave. "That's Ford, and my father, Harris."
"Nice to meet you," Ford says with a nod of his head.
My father extends his hand and smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alison."
"Likewise, Mr. Landry." She takes his hand and shakes it.
"Please. Call me Harris."
“Where’s Huxley?” I ask, looking around.
Lincoln laughs. “Where do you think? Getting my baseball stuff out of my car. Come on, Ford,” he says, “let’s go play some catch.”
“Sounds good.”
My youngest brothers head outside and my father and Graham head into the den, leaving Ali and I together.
“What happens now?” she asks, biting her lip.
“My sisters will be coming in today and . . .”
“Not with that, Barrett. With us.”
“Well,” I grin, trying to compensate for my nervousness, “I had a talk with Huxley last night.”
“What?” she exclaims.
I shrug. “He called me. We talked.”
Gasping she says, “I had no idea!”
“Well, I told him he could call me anytime and he took me up on that. We talked about you and me and him and how we were going to deal with this whole thing.”
Her cheeks turn pink and I stroke them with my thumbs.
“And we decided,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her lips, “that Hux needs help with you, so I volunteered for the job.”
“He needs help with me?”
“Apparently you were crying in the shower . . .”
She looks to the floor, but I won’t have it. I tip her head back so she’s looking into my eyes.
“There will be no tears, Ali, unless they’re from laughing so hard you cry. After tomorrow, we will sit down, you, me, and Huxley, and we’ll decide where we go from there. Because wherever I go, you both are coming with me. Okay?”
The look on her face is better than any response she could give me.
Alison
Barrett leads me up the stairs, going left at the top instead of right. We walk down the hall and into a room at the far end. I can hear the guys playing on the lawn and it makes me so ridiculously happy that Huxley is accepted in this family that I could
burst.
We enter a plush bedroom, all done up in whites and pale yellows. The bed is oversized with the fluffiest looking blankets and pillows I've ever seen. It's almost like a cloud, a giant marshmallow of a room. The afternoon sun shining through the windows makes it seem like a dream, a vision of happiness.
The door closes behind me and his arms wrap around me at once. "Thank you," he whispers, resting his chin on the top of my head.
"For what?"
I feel his body shrug behind me, a long breath escaping his lips. "For being you. For wanting me. For making me see the things I needed to see."
"I didn't make you see anything," I say. "You chose to do that."
"I never would've done it without you. Tonight is the first night I'll go to sleep without a million pounds of guilt sitting on my shoulders. I feel freer than I ever remember feeling."
I twist in his arms to face him. His jaw line looks more angular than I remember, his features edible. My hand cups the side of his face, my thumb stroking his cheek. "That makes me happy," I whisper.
"You know what would make me happy?"
"What's that?"
"Showing you how much you mean to me. Is that all right?"
My knees go weak as he licks his lips, his gaze boring into mine. "Yes. Please."
He scoops me up, my legs over the side of his arm, and carries me across the room. His gaze doesn't leave mine as he lowers me onto the bed, the blankets dipping with my weight. He covers my body with his, the heaviness mixed with his scent overwhelming my senses. He kisses me like he's never kissed me before—with precision, almost methodical. It's as if every movement he makes is a lesson to be learned, a point to be taken.
I lay back and feel his lips cross over my cheek, down my jaw, and down my neck. His lips lingering before moving on. My hands find his hair and twist in the sandy strands, feeling how real he is in my arms. For the first time, he's mine.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers in my ear as his fingers fumble with the button of my jeans. "So fucking beautiful and so fucking mine."
"I was just thinking that," I say, lifting my hips so he can slide the denim off my hips. He removes them, tosses them to the floor, and disposes of his pants as well. Before I know it, he's on the bed and I'm straddled over him.
His eyes twinkle. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere but right here right now."
My hips swivel, my pussy rubbing against his rock-hard cock. I feel his length under me, my body already wet for him. "Me either."
Barrett lifts me up, grabs his cock, and lowers me inch by inch over him. I feel my body expand, making room for his size. His eyes widen as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, his fingertips dipping into the curve of my hips.
"Damn it, Ali," he murmurs as he sinks completely into me.
I take a second to adjust, to feel the fullness. It's heady, a complete turn-on to feel him inside me while I look him in the eye and see that. That indefinable look in his eye that makes me feel like the most important, sexiest person in the universe.
"Ah," I breathe, grinding myself against him. His cock rubs against the walls of my vagina, the contact causing my clit to stroke against his body. His gaze is heavy on me, stroking my skin in its own way. I'm completely owned in this moment by Barrett Landry, and it feels unbelievable.
It's different this time—more intimate, more sensual, more personal.
"I feel it too," he says, reading my mind. He raises his hips, pressing farther into me. I can't stifle the moan that escapes my lips.
Pulling off of him in the most subtle way, I mix up my motion. I rock in a circle and then pump up and down, the differences in stimulation working me into a frenzy.
"That feels so good, babe," he says as he lifts my shirt off over my head. My breasts bounce inside the red lace covering them. "And that looks just as good. My God."
He meets me thrust for thrust, the intensity in his eyes picking up. My entire body is on fire from his touch, his cock, his gaze, and I feel like I'm going to combust.
I shift my weight onto my feet and slide my body down his shaft. A smirk covers his face.
"Keep it up and this will be over before it's really even begun."
"I can't help it," I whimper, feeling his cock stroke my clit as I lift up and then lower down again. "Fuck, this feels so good."
I bounce harder, his hands finding my breasts. He frees them from the lace, cupping them in his hands. His eyes squeeze shut, his mouth hanging open far enough so I can hear his quickened breaths.
His cock swells inside me. His muscles flex as his eyes shoot open. "I'm warning you. You better stop if you don't want me losing it."
"Lose it." I slam down, grinding my body against his. The friction hits every stimulus, his hands squeezing my breasts. He leans up just enough to take my mouth with his, pressing a kiss that’s a tattoo on my lips.
"Ali . . .” Flopping back against the pillows, I watch him enjoy me and it's enough to put me over the edge.
I grind harder, trying to touch his body with mine at every possible point, and I light up from the inside out.
Warmth erupts from my groin, surging through my core and to my cheeks. Fireworks flash before my eyes, my head trying to comprehend all of the sensations and feeling like it's going to explode.
Barrett groans beneath me, the sexiest thing I've ever heard. It only intensifies everything I'm feeling.
The world-shattering high lasts longer than I expect and it seems like eternity before I float back to Earth. Once I do, my hair sticking to my skin with sweat, my breathing ragged, I find him watching me with a smile on his face.
I blush. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"I don't know," I giggle, my cheeks flushing again.
"Like that was the first time that's ever felt that way to me?"
My heart swells because I believe it. I can tell he means it by the look in his eyes.
"That's what I'm looking forward to, babe. That's what I've been missing my entire life. But now I have it and I won't let it go."
I climb off of him and snuggle against his side. He pulls a blanket haphazardly over us before kissing my head.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?"
"For being the first person to make me feel like I'm worthy."
"Oh, Ali, I believe it's the other way around."
"Hmmm . . .” My lashes flutter closed. The stress of the last few days disseminates as I lie in his arms.
"It's you that's changed me. In every damn way." He presses another kiss into my hair. “Make me a promise.”
“What’s that?”
“That we can start every day off with something like this. Without the speech, of course,” he chuckles.
“I’d like that.”
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
Barrett
EVERYONE IS IN THE DINING room when we go downstairs awhile later. Lincoln is eating a bowl of cereal, with Hux at his side, playing some kind of video game. Ford is messing around on a computer. Graham is at the head of the table, sorting through a stack of papers with a red pen. He looks up as we enter.
"Good news!" he says, smiling brightly. "The feedback from your little speech is altogether positive. People seem to have responded to your stupidity, one even going as far as to call you, and I quote, 'People's Choice.' They're saying you're the candidate of the people, the first real candidate in recent memory."
"So, like, he's the MVP of the race?" Lincoln asks, sitting his bowl on the table.
"Seriously, Lincoln?" Ford sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at me. "I'm reading about you right now. Listen to this, Barrett Landry surprised us all when he gave a press conference this morning. Speculation ran rampant, some going so far as to say he’d be addressing rumors of a rift in his campaign and others expecting an engagement announcement. They were all right, yet wrong. The Mayor took to the podium and gave an off-the-cuff response to his candidacy, one that has resonated strongly with
the people of Savannah. While his handlers looked apprehensive going into the conference, the voters looked confident heading into the polls today. The ‘Vote Landry’ buttons we've been seeing spring up in the past few weeks are out in full force this morning."
My father beams, placing both hands on the table. "Well, I'll be."
"I'm shocked," Graham says, resting his hands on a stack of papers in front of him. "The early polling data is strong. Monroe made a statement right after your speech earlier, but I think it's too late to do much damage. Not to mention it was heavily tempered from what I expected. I think he's afraid of making you an enemy at this point."
"Fuck him," I snarl.
"I—" my father begins but is cut off by the door opening.
"Where y'all at?" With the muted Southern drawl, it’s obvious it’s Sienna. She took off for Los Angeles a few years ago and has adopted a semi-California accent now, much to my parents’ dismay.
In a couple of seconds, she rounds the corner with a bright smile. She’s identical to Camilla, except she’s dyed her hair a richer blonde. She’s dressed in camouflage pants, a tight black t-shirt, and Chucks. "I'm the last to show up. Naturally."
"Hey, I told you to come last night," Lincoln says.
"You should've come last night," my father says, standing straight and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I had things to do. Besides, it’s not like I waited until the last second.”
"Painting pictures isn't an acceptable excuse," Dad says.
She gives our father a look. “Hush, Daddy.”
“Come here,” Dad says, shaking his head. Sienna waltzes over, knowing he’s putty in her hands, and kisses his cheek before turning to me.
"Good speech, B. I saw it online on my way over. I’m over the red ties, though. Let’s freshen your style up a little," she teases.
"I’m good. Thanks," I laugh, taking a quick hug from my baby sister. “Sienna, this is Alison Baker.” I take a step back and pull Alison towards me. “Ali, this is Sienna, the missing piece of the Landry puzzle.”
Sienna flashes Alison a wide smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Alison says, returning Sienna’s grin.
Sway (Landry Family #1) Page 29