by Jacie Lennon
“The boys invited me to lunch, and I knew you’d be in town, so I wanted to surprise you,” he says, the joy on his face sending a pang right to my gut.
Except for him and Linda, we all know what’s coming, and it’s hard to act normal.
“Sit, sit.” He gestures to the empty chairs, and Linda sits next to him.
Before Landry can sit, she’s enveloped by Chester as he pulls her in for a hug.
“The mysterious Landry,” he says with a chuckle, and she smiles at him. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you. I was so upset you couldn’t make it to the wedding.”
Chester is the only one oblivious to the confused look that she shoots Linda’s way. Looks like someone wasn’t invited.
“Yeah, me too,” she says. “It’s good to meet you too, Mr. Montgomery.”
As if the whole upcoming scene of outing Linda isn’t awkward enough, we have to watch a stiff Landry and happy Chester make introductions halfway through our first semester of school.
Landry sits down in between me and her mom.
“How did it go?” I whisper to her.
She flashes me a quick thumbs-up before grabbing the menu, attempting to look busy with perusing the selections.
“So, Landry, I hope my sons have been helpful for your first semester here at Almadale,” Chester says, leaning slightly over Linda to talk.
She looks up, quickly meeting the eyes of Brock and Bodhi, the latter smirking at her before she turns to Chester.
“Oh, quite helpful,” she says.
“Good, good. How did dress shopping go?”
This time, Landry looks to me, and I grimace.
Fuck. The dance.
I haven’t even thought about it, and now, Landry has told Peter Fucking What’s-His-Name that she would go with him, and he’s going to stand her up. I make a mental note to talk to her about it later.
“It was good. I found a dress,” she says, dragging her eyes from mine.
“Wonderful.” Chester smiles a genuine smile at her.
I cringe. I don’t want to be here for this. I asked Brock why he wanted to do this in a restaurant with people around, and he told me that he didn’t want a scene and wanted her to give up easily. I’m not sure his theory is well thought out, but here we are.
“How are classes?” He turns his attention to the twins.
I reach over, grabbing Landry’s hand and dragging it into my lap. She gives me a half-smile, and I have the urge to pull her from her chair and escape.
The conversation around us centers around classes, but we are in our own bubble as I rub my thumb back and forth against her smooth hand. Her fingers clench mine, as if I could anchor her. I wish I could. But it seems like we are in this tomfuckery together, floating and looking for something to pick us up and end our misery.
Brock looks smug, and Bodhi is his usual carefree self. They don’t understand. They don’t get what is at stake.
This is Landry’s mother, and their relationship will never be what it used to be. And then she could possibly be taken from me. This is not just a game being played by two bored rich kids. Though I guess, now, I might fall into that category.
“So, Linda, what have you been up to?” Brock asks, leaning forward as he lays his phone facedown on the table.
Bodhi glances at it for a moment and then looks up. Landry’s fingers squeeze me harder, and our clasped hands are shaken by her bouncing leg.
We might all have stomach ulcers before this meal is over. Not that anyone is going to want to eat.
Linda is saved by a waiter coming for the drink order, but Brock’s gaze never leaves her. Once we are alone again, she serenely looks at him with a put-together facade, as if her life wasn’t built on lies with Chester.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had an interest in what I did,” she says, a smile crossing her lips.
Chester wraps one arm around her, pulling her close and not noticing the tight-lipped look she shoots his way. As soon as his hand unclasps, she rights herself and pulls her napkin from the table, settling it in her lap.
Our drinks are set down, and everyone orders quickly before the table falls back into an awkward silence.
“Well, let me tell you what I’ve been up to.” He sits back with a smile, stance casual, almost bored.
“I would be delighted to hear,” she retorts back.
Chester looks between the two, a frown on his face.
“I have a man who I pay every once in a while to check into things. Things that seem, oh, I don’t know … fishy.”
“How interesting. You must have a lot of fishy things to investigate then,” Linda says.
From where I’m sitting, I can see her wrapping the napkin around her hands, a fidget that is hidden from the twins. I watch Chester’s eyes home in on it, his forehead creasing even more.
“Brock, what is this about?” he asks, his hand settling back on Linda’s shoulder, who looks like she wants to slither out from underneath it.
I don’t see how Chester is blind to what is going on.
“Yes, Linda, what is this about?” Bodhi chimes in, leaning forward with his signature grin. He’s taking way too much pleasure in this. Though I suppose if someone were stealing from me, I’d feel the same for them getting what’s coming to them.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about.” She glances around, leaning down for her purse.
“You don’t want to do that.” Brock’s tone cuts through the tension, and she freezes.
“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Chester’s voice brooks no argument.
“Mom,” Landry pleads, “just be honest.”
At the seething glare Landry’s mom gives her, I pull her chair closer to mine, unclasping our hands and wrapping my arm around her shoulders in comfort.
“Your wife has been stealing from you,” Brock spits out, chucking a printout of papers across the table on top of his dad’s place mat.
Chester picks up the papers, thumbing through them. Every couple of seconds, his eyes jerk to Linda, who pales continually.
“What is this? Linda?”
“They are lying,” she says, reaching her hand out and laying it on Chester’s arm. “I love you, Chester. I would never steal from you.”
“Boys? This isn’t funny. Don’t play around like this.” Chester’s face is turning red as he thumbs through the papers again, glaring at Brock and Bodhi.
“I don’t think it’s funny either, Dad. I take money very seriously,” Brock says.
“Where did this come from?” Chester holds up the papers.
“Our PI, Derek. He’s been collecting information and watching her since you got married. I used some of my and Bodhi’s savings.”
“Linda?” Chester turns to her again, pleading with her for it to not be true.
She sits there, silent for a moment. I can see her wheels turning, trying to figure out how to get out of it.
“Why would you need to steal? I would give you anything you could ask for.” The hurt is visible, the slump of his shoulders showing a dejected man.
I want to look away, give him his privacy. A man shouldn’t have to show his pain out in the open like this.
“Chester, this is a game to them. They have nothing better to do than to plot to break us up. I’m the stepmother. They are only feeding you lies to separate us.” Linda is grasping at straws now. Not even she believes her protestations.
“Show him, Landry.” Brock’s voice cuts into Linda’s pathetic words, and Landry jumps beneath my outstretched arm.
“That’s enough,” I growl at Brock, but he ignores me.
“Show him.” He won’t let this go.
Linda is staring at Landry now, anger and hurt visible in her face, and Landry melts further into me.
“God, Mom, I’m so sorry.” She pulls her phone out, bringing up the recording and handing it to Chester.
He sits there, his finger hovering over the Play button as he stares at his wif
e. The wife he was head over heels for in the beginning. Everyone could see it.
The table is silent as he listens to Linda’s and Landry’s voices, clear as day, the words unmistakable. Chester cuts it off before the end, his hand shaking.
“Looks like my work here is done,” Brock says, standing and throwing his napkin on the table.
The waiter arrives with a tray full of food, stopping short when he sees the mood surrounding the table.
Brock steps over, grabbing a plate of food and tipping his head to the waiter. “Thanks. Looks delicious.” He smiles and walks away.
Bodhi picks some shrimp off the pasta before following behind his brother.
“Landry, how could you?” Linda’s venomous tone cuts through the silence.
Landry sits up straighter. “I had to, Mom. It was for your own good. They were threatening prison.”
“You are no daughter of mine. My flesh and blood wouldn’t sell me out.”
“No, Mom, flesh and blood wouldn’t put each other in this position. Settle this, and we will go.”
Landry stands, and I rise behind her, pulling her to me. I level a glare at Linda, who looks like she’s about to start spitting more angry words at her daughter, and she wisely shuts up.
“Good-bye. Chester, it was nice to meet you. I’m sorry it had to be like this though.” Landry grabs my hand, and we walk out, leaving the unhappy couple with a table full of uneaten food.
28
Landry
I wait until we are outside of the restaurant before the first sob sneaks out. The one that opens the floodgates, tears streaming down my face. My vision is blurry, but I sink gratefully against Corbin’s chest as he wraps his arms around me, his hands landing on my lower back and pressing my body completely against his. It’s a touch of comfort, letting me know that he’s here for me. He turns me and walks us around the side of the building, and I melt back against him as he stops.
After a moment, I can feel him move a little, so I pull my head back. He’s staring at Brock and Bodhi while they stand by the car, so I grab his hand and walk to them.
“Hey, lil sis,” Bodhi says, his ever-present grin lighting up his face.
I don’t bother to greet him back before saying, “I want your word that this won’t go any further. You won’t take action against her on a legal level.”
“From our standpoint, as long as she complies with what our lawyer draws up, she’s as good as forgotten,” Brock says, and Bodhi nods.
“I’m sure your dad will have something to say about it though,” I say.
Brock cocks his head to the side. “Maybe. I’ll talk to him.”
Corbin caresses me from behind, drawing me back into his chest.
“Thank you,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief.
“You did good,” Brock says gruffly.
My eyes widen. “A compliment from Brock Montgomery? Is the world ending?”
“Can I borrow the car?” Corbin cuts in before Brock can retort.
“Nah, I got somewhere I need to be. Take Bodhi’s,” he says.
Bodhi tosses Corbin the keys. He jostles me as he catches them and then pulls me back in tightly.
“Yeah, I’ll catch a ride with Dad,” Bodhi says.
“What are you doing?” Corbin asks, but Brock licks his lips before looking away.
“I’ll tell you soon,” he says finally, and Bodhi raises his eyebrows.
“Is this something to do with your PI, like when you found Andrea?” Corbin asks.
Brock reaches up to run his hand through his hair, looking visibly distressed. “No. This is … something else,” he says, shuffling his weight.
I’ve never seen him this uncomfortable.
“What? Quit keeping secrets,” Bodhi says, squaring off in front of him.
“Look, I have something I have to take care of.”
“I’m coming with you,” Bodhi says, but Brock shakes his head.
“No,” he says, backing away.
I watch the guys have some sort of unspoken conversation.
“Fine,” Bodhi says curtly before turning suddenly and walking back into the restaurant.
Brock glances at us before getting in his SUV and cranking it. I watch him grip the steering wheel for a moment, staring at nothing before Corbin ushers me to the passenger seat of the car parked next to Brock’s SUV.
“Want to get out of here?” he asks, a smile on his face.
I nod, biting my lip.
“Don’t do that,” he says, leaning in and capturing my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t bite these perfect lips. They are mine now to bite.” He dips his head, pressing his lips against mine, tracing the seam of my mouth with his tongue before lightly nipping my full bottom lip with his teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He quickly draws back, almost as if he wouldn’t be able to stop. After rounding the car, he jumps in and pulls sunglasses from the holder in the ceiling.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
I reach to take his hand, but he’s already grabbing mine, laying our clasped hands on the console between us, and I put the scene at the restaurant out of my mind. I won’t let it ruin this moment.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Corbin looks over, flashing me a grin. “I promised Abe last time we were together that he would get to meet you soon.”
“You are taking me to meet your brother?” I smile back. I can’t imagine anywhere else I would rather be right now.
“I’m taking you to meet the coolest kid I know.”
Corbin was right. He is right. Abe is precocious and funny, a bright light in the middle of our day as he tells us stories from school and his friends. I watch Corbin as he interacts with his brother, the way his face lights up as Abe talks and the look of love in his eyes, and it melts my heart.
We’re at The Burger Shack, which Corbin told me is Abe’s favorite and the only place he ever wants to go eat.
“So, are you his girlfriend?” Abe asks, pointing a French fry at me as he wrinkles his tiny, freckled nose.
I glance at Corbin, a panicked look on my face, and he chuckles.
“Yeah, little bro, she is.” He leans over and ruffles his hair.
Oh my God, my ovaries.
“I am?” I ask, a smile on my face as I take a bite of my burger.
We haven’t had the talk. You know, the one where he’s all, Wanna be the peanut butter to my jelly? And then I am all, Sure. Okay, maybe that’s not how it goes, but we have quietly tiptoed around the topic.
“Yep.”
“You’ve never asked,” I say, dipping a fry in my ketchup-and-ranch mixture, which both guys told me was disgusting.
Corbin pushes back from the table and stands, and my eyes follow his form as he stalks around to my side of the picnic table we are sitting on outside. He straddles the bench and grabs my hands, pulling me closer to him.
“Landry Paradise, will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend, to have and to”—he drops his voice down low in a whisper only I can hear—“fuck”—then he raises it again—“I mean, hold, from this moment at The Burger Shack on and with Abe Henson as our witness?” He punctuates the end with a wink, and I laugh.
“Yes,” I say.
Abe groans from across the table. “Are you guys gonna kiss?” he asks, covering his eyes.
“You betcha,” Corbin says, leaning in and laying a loud smack against my mouth.
“Gross,” Abe exclaims uncovering his eyes and then leaning in to take another bite of his burger.
“You won’t always think it’s gross,” Corbin says, and I reach up, trailing my finger along the shell of his ear, smiling as he shivers slightly. “I’d better get back to my side of the table,” he says, throwing a lazy grin my way as he settles back in next to Abe.
Then, his posture goes from carefree to tense as he eyes Abe.
“How are things at home?” he asks.
Abe looks up at him, pursing his lips. “Fine. Why?” He tilts his head to t
he side.
“Just wondering,” Corbin says, putting a smile on his face. “I’m not there to keep an eye on you now, and I want to make sure you’re good.”
“Yeah,” Abe says. His little legs kick back and forth beneath the table and send rocks flying past my legs. “Grandpa works a lot, and Grandma has a new friend.”
“A new friend?” Corbin’s eyes dart to mine.
“Yeah, she comes over sometimes,” Abe says with a shrug before taking a sip of water through his straw. “She asks me a lot of questions.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. She asked me if I’m happy or, like, if I eat at home. Just lots of stuff. She let me show her my cars. Then, she asked one time if I like Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Do you?”
I can tell Corbin is nervous, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck and the other tapping a cadence on the tabletop.
“Do I what?” Abe looks up, cocking his head to the side and wrinkling his nose.
“Do you like Grandma and Grandpa?”
“Oh …” He kicks his foot again, and this time, a rock pelts my shin, but I don’t interrupt. “Yeah, I guess. They don’t really pay me any attention.”
I watch Corbin’s shoulders slump, but if it’s in relief or not, I don’t know.
“Hey, Landry?”
“Yeah, buddy?” I sit forward with a smile.
“You want to see my cars?”
“I would love to see your cars,” I say with a smile, one that Abe mirrors on his face with his teeth that are too big for him right now. It’s adorable, and I can’t help but fall in love with him.
“Cool. When can she come over?” He turns to Corbin, who is still tapping his fingers.
“What?” he asks.
Abe scoots closer. “Landry says she wants to see my cars. Can she come over?”
“Oh. Not today, but I’ll bring her back soon,” he says, ruffling Abe’s hair again.
“Okay. Can I have some ice cream?”
“Sure, buddy.”
I watch Corbin make his way to the shack, ordering three chocolate-dipped ice cream cones for us, and I can’t help but be happy right now in this very moment.
