Swear (Landry Family #4) Page 8

  “I have really mixed emotions about him,” I admit.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. I’m not sure where to even start. Besides,” I say, getting to my feet, “I could probably talk through it for hours and be as confused as I already am.”

  She laughs, standing as well. “Can I cross one more boundary and say something else?”

  “You’re going to do it either way, aren’t you?”

  “Probably,” she grins. “Look, I know it’s been awhile since you’ve really spent a lot of time with Ford. It’s been years, Graham says.”

  “Almost ten.”

  “Right. So, I wanted you to know that while I don’t know what Ford was like growing up, I do know him now. He’s a giant pain-in-my-butt, eats all the pie, and routinely gets Graham so worked up that I think he’s going to have a heart attack and die.”

  Despite the words out of her mouth, Mallory has a smile stretched from ear to ear.

  “He’s also ridiculously intelligent, funny as hell, and the kindest Landry in the bunch.” Mallory’s voice softens. “No one has a bigger heart than Ford. No one looks at people and immediately sees the good, not the bad, like him. He’s pretty special, Ellie. I wouldn’t have sent him your way if he wasn’t.”

  My shoulders slump. “I spent so many years being mad at him. Venomously angry at first, then more bitter, I guess, as time went on. It’s weird now to see him face-to-face after having felt that way for such a long time.”

  “I bet it does, and I didn’t think about that.”

  I drag in a deep breath and blow it out, hoping to push away some of the confusion in my brain. “When I hated him, at least I knew how to deal with that. It was almost safe, in a way. But now . . .”

  “Now what?”

  “Now I’m not sure how I feel.”

  It’s the most honest thing I can think of to say. After mulling it over for hours, having his smile flit through my mind at random times, hoping I run into him at the gas station—I don’t want to know if I want to know how I feel.

  “Liking him is too easy,” I concede. “It’s that boyish grin that does me in.”

  “Not that I’m looking because I’m not, but it might be his body that does me in if I were you,” she winks.

  I can’t help but laugh, knowing just how right she is. But physical attraction isn’t my problem. I’m a red-blooded female, after all. The problem is something deeper, something more difficult to see.

  “Let me ask you something, Mal.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Is he really the good person you say he is? What I mean by that is does he date a lot? Does he go through women like crazy? You know, is he nice to people?”

  Holding my breath as she considers my question, I wonder if she’ll be completely truthful. Will she try to sell me on the guy she likes or will she dig deep and find the one time he was a jerk, like leaving a girl high and dry after he realizes he doesn’t want to be with her.

  Like what he did to me.

  Her features soften. “He hasn’t seriously dated anyone since I’ve known him. Sure, he’s been with girls but none that he’s brought around any of us. So that should answer that part of your question.”

  “What about the other?” I ask, my chest tightening with anticipation.

  “He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met.”

  The simplicity in her statement speaks louder than anything. It’s like those few words say everything she can say. There’s nothing else to add.

  My shoulders sag at the sincerity in her tone. “That’s good to hear,” I whisper.

  “I know getting involved with someone, anyone, is hard. You really put your heart out there and hope they treat it kindly. When I gave in to Graham, I remember hoping he wouldn’t treat me like a contract closure if he decided it didn’t work between us. I worried about that.”

  “That’s the thing . . . Ford did treat me like that before. He didn’t want to be with me anymore and it was just like, ‘bye,’” I sigh. “I’ve had guys do that before, obviously. We all have. But he’s not just another guy. He’s Ford. He was my first love, my first everything, to be honest. There’s so much more tied up in things with him. A part of me feels stupid for even considering getting involved with him right now when Halcyon is getting off the ground, I just moved back home. Why invite the possible drama?”

  “Life is complicated, Ellie. Look around at the people you know. Are any of their lives easy?”

  “Yours seems pretty cush right now,” I tease.

  “I spent an hour this morning arguing with Graham about a mug that was left in the sink last night,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t trade Graham for anyone in the world, but let me tell you, it’s not easy dating someone like him.”

  “He’s pretty intense, right?”

  “And high maintenance,” she laughs. “The man has to have everything done a certain way. His clothes have to be facing a specific way in the closet. Can you believe that?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yup, but I’m breaking him. Slowly.”

  I think about her words as she jogs off to welcome a few customers. Ford certainly is complicated, but being with him is also so easy. It always has been. But maybe that means it’s so easy because there’s nothing too deep about it. Maybe it’s a sign that our lives will cross from time to time, but there’s nothing to put roots in.

  Mallory’s hand lands on my shoulder, making me jump. “It’s about time to start class. But I wanted to give you one last piece of advice I’ve learned since I met Graham.”

  “Shoot.”

  “If you can walk away from Ford, do it. That means he’s not the one for you.”

  My heart pulls at the thought of not seeing him again. It already hurts to think of going days, months, years again without having him in my orbit.

  “In every other relationship I’ve ever had,” Mallory adds, “I’ve always felt like I could leave and survive if I wanted to. I know if I tried to leave Graham, he’d come after me. And I’d want him to. I’d need him to.”

  With that, she heads to the front to greet her customers, and I’m left sitting on the mat to think.

  Ford

  THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN BEATS down, heating the interior of Graham’s SUV. I crank on the air conditioner and get a snarl from my brother.

  “What is it with you and the AC?”

  “It’s ninety degrees in here,” I say, pulling the collar away from my neck. “I’m sweating like a motherfucker.”

  “Remind me to make you drive separately next time,” he laughs.

  “I’d be happy to, especially since you failed to inform me you have a meeting after ours that I’m going to wait out.”

  He looks at me over his shoulder. “I didn’t know about that until we got in the car. I’ve waited to talk to this guy for two weeks. You’re going to have to deal.”

  A sign catches my eye and I squint through the sunlight. “Hey, Halcyon is like two streets over.”

  “So?”

  “Drop me off there.”

  Graham huffs. “Do you think I’m your dad? Like, ‘Hey, Graham. Take me here and then come back to pick me up’?”

  “Would it kill you?” I deadpan.

  On a dime, the SUV takes a right and heads north.

  “Ah, thanks, G,” I grin.

  “You can be such a child.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” I laugh as we take another right and pull up in front of Ellie’s store, “you’ve made this child very happy.”

  “Get out of my car before I’m late,” he says, smiling. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way to get you.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Asshole,” he mutters as I climb out and slam the door.

  I jog the few paces to the front door, my heartbeat picking up. I tell myself it’s because of the burst of exertion, but I know better.

  There’s been no exchange between us since I left he
r standing, covered in paint. It’s killed me not to call her or send her a text. Hell, it’s been nearly impossible not to just drive to her house and scoop her up and kiss the ever-loving fuck out of her.

  I knew once I broke the barrier, things would change. Seeing her respond to me in such an intimate way, watching her put her guard down and let me in, only solidifies how I feel.

  She’s mine.

  Not in some mock-caveman way. It’s not like that at all. She’s mine because as much as she belongs with me, I belong with her. The catch is I’ve said a lot of stupid things, made a lot of promises, and set up a lot of things that I didn’t follow through on. She won’t trust my word. She shouldn’t. It’s up to me to show her who I am and how I feel.

  That I love her.

  The cool air of Halcyon hits me in the face as I step inside. Violet and Ellie are on the floor, sandwiches and chips in front of them.

  “Hey, ladies,” I say, nodding quickly at Violet and then setting my sights on Ellie. A pair of cut-off denim shorts showcases her toned legs and a plain black tank top is stretched across her ample breasts. With her messy ponytail, she’s a sight I could watch for days.

  “Hey, Ford,” Violet chirps.

  “Hi.” Ellie smiles at me, absentmindedly combing a hand through her hair. Green smears are laced through the dark strands. I pretend not to notice.

  “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” I say. “I was riding with Graham and he had a meeting. I thought I’d see if you ladies needed any help instead of waiting in the car for God knows how long.”

  “We were just wrapping up lunch,” Violet says, mischief in her eyes. “I do hear you’re a good painter though.”

  “Violet!” Ellie hisses, making us all laugh.

  “That’s what she says, huh?” I tease.

  “She did,” Violet continues, dodging a thrown water bottle from her friend. “She said—”

  “Don’t you dare!” Ellie springs to her feet, a smile on her face. “Between the two of you, you embarrass me to no end.”

  I pin my eyes to hers. “Baby, there is absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  Her cheeks ratchet up a darker shade of pink. “Can we change the subject?”

  “Yes,” Violet offers. “Let’s talk about that little smear of green paint on Ford’s forearm that conspicuously matches the green in your hair.”

  Ellie charges back, threatening Violet, as I chuckle. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I see Sienna’s name on the screen.

  I motion to them I need to take the call and head to the back. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Ford! Are you busy?”

  “It depends on what you want.”

  “Well, I need a ride.”

  “Why?”

  She sighs dramatically into the line. “I rode with Camilla to get manicures and she went first. She was finished when I was just starting, so she said she was going to run a few errands and come back to get me. I can’t get her to even respond to my texts now, and I’m tired of sitting here. I’m only a few blocks from Landry Security, so I thought maybe you’d take pity on your baby sister and come get me.”

  “You could walk,” I offer.

  “It’s a hundred degrees out there!”

  Ellie’s voice drifts to the back and I get an idea. “Can I call you right back?”

  “You aren’t going to leave me sitting here too, are you?”

  “Get an attitude and I just might leave you to an Uber.”

  “Call me back,” she growls and hangs up.

  Moseying to the front, it’s Violet that catches my eye first. I toss her a wink.

  “Who was that?” Violet asks carefully, trying to make sure that’s what I intended her to do.

  “My sister Sienna. She’s stranded at a nail place and needs a ride.”

  A look of understand flickers through Violet’s eyes. “Weren’t you dropped off here?”

  “Yup. I told her she’d have to take a cab or something.”

  Violet looks at Ellie. “Why don’t you take Ford to get her?”

  Ellie’s jaw drops as she looks at Violet and then me. “Um, well, I . . .”

  “You totally don’t have to,” I say. “Really. She can call someone else. It’s fine.”

  “But you were just saying you needed to run out and grab some thumb tacks and stuff, right?” Violet prods. “Let me finish what we were doing and you run Ford to grab his sister.”

  “But I . . .” she gulps. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Violet says, nudging her towards me.

  “If you don’t want to, Ellie, it’s fine,” I grin.

  She searches my face and I can almost see the cogs turning. Finally, she throws back her shoulders and smiles. “Let me grab my keys.”

  Ellie

  What the hell am I doing?

  It takes two attempts to get the keys in the ignition. Ford is too close, looking entirely too sinful, and smelling way too freaking good to think clearly.

  In my little car, he completely dominates the space. It’s like my brain refuses to work with him in the passenger’s seat next to me. Where he could reach out and touch me. And move his fingers to my—

  “Ellie?”

  “Ah!” I say, jumping back in my seat. My hands clasp over my heart as it stalls in my chest. “You scared me!”

  “Saying your name?” he laughs. “What on Earth is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” I mutter, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes in hopes he doesn’t see me blush. “Where is Sienna?”

  He gives me the address, and I pull out onto the street. We drive for a few miles with no sound besides the radio quietly playing a hip-hop station Violet had on this morning.

  “Do you listen to this?” he asks, turning the sound up. “This is horrible.”

  “It was all Violet,” I laugh. “I usually listen to country.”

  “I knew I loved you.”

  Pressing a swallow, I try to let those words go in one ear and out the other. I’m sure it was just a slip of the tongue, a casual use of words people say each and every day.

  I knew I loved you.

  I gulp again.

  A song by a popular artist comes on the radio and he taps his foot against the floorboard in rhythm. The insistent tip-tap begins to drive me up the wall.

  “Okay,” I say, flipping off the radio. “Let’s talk.”

  “Okay. Let’s talk,” he repeats.

  “What are you? A canary?”

  “A canary?” he laughs. “You mean a parrot.”

  “No, a canary. Canaries talk.”

  “Do they? I don’t think so.”

  “Look it up,” I laugh. “We had a canary when I was little and it talked.”

  He gives me the cutest, silliest look. “I’m sure it did.”

  I smack him on the shoulder. That’s all it takes for the air to shift. He must feel it too because he cranks up the air conditioner.

  “I’ve been hot all fucking day,” he grumbles.

  I want to comment that he looks fucking hot every time I see him. I could make a note about how hard his shoulder just was when I hit him and how I’d like to roam my hands down his biceps and feel him flex his body while he’s up against mine. Or on mine. Or under mine. Or inside mine.

  “Hey!” he laughs, grabbing the top of the steering wheel. “Pay attention or I’ll drive.”

  The car evens back out as I feel every ounce of blood rush to my face. “Sorry.”

  “You feeling okay today?” he grins. “You’re flushed.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yes, you are,” he whistles. “I keep thinking about last night.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that, actually,” I gulp.

  Glancing at him over my shoulder, there’s a look of surprise on his face.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” I start.

  “I know what came over me. All over me, actually . . .”

  “Damn it, Ford,” I blush. “Stop.”


  “Fine. I’m sorry. Continue.”

  He’s not sorry. Not a bit. The smirk set deep in his cheeks tells the truth.

  Sighing, I take a left towards the salon.

  “Look, El. I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but I’m not sorry about what happened,” he says. “If you want me to say it was a mistake or apologize for something—”

  “No,” I say hurriedly. “I, um, I don’t want you to apologize. I just didn’t expect that to happen, and I’m not sure what kind of signal it puts out.”

  I can tell he’s grinning as he shifts in the seat so he’s facing me. “What kind of signal it puts out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sexy as hell? Does that work?”

  I don’t look at him. If I do and see his eyes on me like I think they are, I might pull over and ravage him on the side of the road.

  “If you’re insinuating that I think it meant anything more than you wanting something I could give you in that moment, I don’t,” he says, all teasing gone from his tone. “I’ll be honest and say I hope it means that you’re opening up to the idea of maybe spending some time with me.”

  “Seems like a slippery slope.”

  “I’ll have you know I’m passing a huge innuendo with that one,” he laughs.

  “You have a one-track mind today,” I grin.

  “That’s your fault.”

  I sense movement to my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his arm reaching forward just before his palm lands on the bare skin of my thigh.

  Goosebumps ripple from the spot, like a stone thrown on a lake. With every wave, my body comes alive.

  Much to both my relief and regret, he doesn’t move his hand.

  “To clarify, my mind is always two-track with you,” he almost whispers. “That’s how I know you’re special.”

  As if the universe is finally giving me a break, I pull to the curb of a salon nestled in the back of a strip mall. A gorgeous blonde girl is standing in the front with an oversized pink bag and purple tips to her hair.

  “Is that Sienna?” I ask.

  He removes his hand from my leg, the skin instantly feeling cold. I turn the air conditioner down.

  He rolls down his window and waves at his sister. Her face lights up and she half-runs to the car.