The Landry Family Series: Part Two

by Adriana Locke

  “That was beautiful,” Vivian gushes, getting to her feet and swatting Barrett away. She takes Alison at arm’s length. “I want to be the first to welcome you into the family, Alison.”

  “Thank you,” Alison grins. “I know that was quick and to the point, but I already have everything I want. And I didn’t want to have a stuffy event with a bunch of senators’ wives,” she cringes.

  “Thank God for that,” Vivian laughs.

  “I have one more announcement,” Barrett says, clearing his throat. “Hey, Hux. Where are you, buddy?”

  His new step-son races in the room from the kitchen, a cookie hanging out of his mouth. “Yeah?”

  Barrett stands in front of him, holding out a piece of paper. Alison steps to Barrett’s side, this time her face awash with more emotion than ever before. Vivian hands her a tissue as Alison latches on to Barrett’s arm.

  “I want you to read this,” Barrett says, handing the paper to the child.

  Huxley takes it. The cookie falls from his lip as his head snaps up to Barrett’s. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Like, really, really?”

  “Like, really, really,” Barrett smiles.

  Huxley launches himself into Barrett’s arms. Alison embraces them both, her arms enclosing the two men in her life. It’s a sight to see, even though I have no idea what was on that paper.

  The family is quiet, watching something unfold in front of us. Vivian and Harris arrive in the center of the room and the five of them have a quiet conversation.

  “What did the paper say?” I whisper to Ford.

  “He’s adopting him,” Ford tells me. “His biological father signed his rights away.”

  My vision now blurs as I watch Harris come away with a smile reminiscent of Ford’s. His eyes shine with pride, of course, but maybe something else. Maybe of a job well done. Harris Landry may have made millions of dollars in real estate over his lifetime, but his greatest accomplishment is his children.

  Barrett looks at Ford. With a raise of his brow, he leads Alison and Huxley off to the side. Much to my surprise, Ford untangles my arm from around his waist and stands.

  The room quiets again. I look at Mallory, then at Sienna, and they’re both looking at me with huge smiles.

  My heart starts to race as I realize Ford hasn’t moved. He hasn’t disappeared to the bathroom as I expected, nor has he ventured into the kitchen for a second slice of apple pie. Instead, he’s standing in front of me, ignoring his family’s whispers, and waiting for my reaction.

  “Ford?” I ask.

  His eyes are sober, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he bends on one knee. I gasp, grabbing Camilla’s hand and squeezing it for dear life.

  “Ellie,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you. You were wearing jeans with the right knee out and a grey shirt that hung off your shoulder. You had mud everywhere and a fishing pole on the ground next to you.”

  I vaguely hear his family chuckle, but I’m too focused on the gorgeous man in front of me to mind. I take his hand and place my thumb over the star in the crook of his fingers.

  “I swore to myself if God ever gave me another chance with you, I wouldn’t blow it. That I’d do everything in my power to take care of you and love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

  My hand touches the side of his face as the heat of my tears slides down my cheeks.

  “A few weeks ago, I talked to your father.”

  Just the mention of him causes my heart to flex in my chest. My bottom lip begins to tremble and I can barely see him through the onslaught of waterworks.

  “He gave me permission, and his blessing, to ask you to be my wife.”

  I hear gasps from around the room, but all I can do is watch the man in front of me, on his knee, telling me he did the one thing that matters. He thought of it all.

  “It would be the biggest honor in the world if you would be Mrs. Ford Landry.”

  “Yes,” I whisper. I don’t think twice about it. I don’t overthink it or reconsider. I just go with my gut, and that says to scoop this man up.

  Ford brings a ring out of his pocket. A large but not gaudy diamond sits in a gold band encrusted with tiny diamonds. It’s simple and elegant and something I’d pick myself if I had the choice and resources.

  “The diamonds around the edges are from your mother’s ring,” he whispers just for me to hear. “Your father gave it to me.”

  I throw myself at him, telling him how much I love him and how happy he makes me. It’s a ramble, a tear-filled slug of words that I’m not even sure is coherent.

  He stands, pulling me with him. “I have one final question.”

  “What?” I laugh, wiping my eyes. “What else could you possibly ask me?”

  “Will you marry me right now?”

  I gasp. Mallory gasps. I think everyone might suck in a breath at Ford’s unexpected question.

  “If you don’t want to, we can wait,” he admits. “If you want a big wedding, I’ll throw you the biggest damn wedding Savannah has ever seen. But we have a pastor here and he’s in possession of a wedding license we can sign …”

  I search his eyes. I have no fear, no second thoughts—nothing but a smile on my face. “Yes. Let’s get married. Tonight.”

  We take our positions in front of the podium to the cheers of the Landry family behind us. We sign our names to the marriage application and then hold hands as he reads from the Bible.

  Our vows are repeated simply, easily, just like our relationship. And in a few minutes, we, too, are pronounced husband and wife.

  The family nearly attacks us with hugs, kisses, and tears of joy. I’m welcomed to the family by promises of love, offers of goodwill, and warnings to prepare to fight over pie at Thanksgiving.

  It’s simply one of the best moments of my entire life.

  After everyone moves back into the kitchen, with Lincoln suggesting they break out the tequila, I finally make my way to Alison.

  “I’m sorry we just butted in on your wedding,” I say.

  She tosses me a wink. “Ford ran it by us before he did it,” she laughs. “We thought it would be fun to share an anniversary with you.” Pulling me into a hug, she grins. “Congratulations, Mrs. Landry.”

  “Wow,” I say, trying to wrap my head around that. “I mean, to you too. But doesn’t that sound …”

  “Amazing?” she offers.

  “Amazing,” I concur.

  It’s in this moment with this family, my family, that I realize I’m truly going to be okay. That the best things in life come when you take a chance and do things because they simply make you smile.

  I look at Ford, my new husband, talking quietly with his father. It’s a simple scene—two men talking with glasses in their hands. My cheeks split as I feel my chest warm in a happiness that I can barely contain.

  “What are you thinking about?” Danielle asks, coming up beside me. “You have a pretty serious look on your face.”

  I tear my eyes away from Ford and look at her. I shrug. “Just how I need to remember that when storms roll in, how beautiful the rainbow is going to be.”

  Epilogue

  “You did it.” Ford cages me into the corner of the back room of Halcyon, his lips hovering over the shell of my ear. “I am so proud of you, Ellie. You may have had to take a few extra weeks with everything that’s happened, but you did it.”

  I haven’t stopped smiling all day, the grand opening of the store I’m so incredibly proud of. Twisting in his arms, I see my happiness reflected on his face. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “While I love that, it’s a lie. You did do it without me.” His eyes widen, as if to remind me it’s a touchy subject.

  I giggle. “I didn’t do it without you! You’ve weighed in heavily on some aspects. I couldn’t have finished painting the ceiling without you. Don’t forget that,” I say, tapping him on the nose.

  “I’m so gla
d I was able to do that. Lord knows you couldn’t have had that done by anyone else.” He takes my hand and leads me towards the front.

  “No one would’ve looked as good as you shirtless,” I point out.

  The crowd we’ve had all day has dwindled. We officially closed almost an hour ago, but how do you kick people out when you’re so grateful they’re there? You don’t. You smile and chitchat and refill the cookie tray by the front door.

  Taking in the few faces still here, I’m overcome with emotion. That’s been happening a lot lately. Everything makes me cry. Violet thinks I’m a lunatic, and Ford worries I’m unhappy, but in reality, it’s the opposite: I’m just incredibly happy.

  Ford drops my hand and heads off to see Sienna, one of the reasons why we had such a fantastic day. She and Camilla invited all their friends, all of their mother’s friends—practically all of Savannah. With their charm and connections, they took my dreams and made them a reality.

  Sienna reaches up and wipes at Ford’s cheek. I watch his muscled shoulders rise and fall as if he couldn’t care less that my lipstick was imprinted on his face.

  “Hey.”

  I look to my right and see Camilla.

  “Cam, I just wanted to thank you again for—”

  “Will you stop it?” she laughs. “You’re family, Ellie. We take care of our own.”

  I feel the burn in the bridge of my nose that tells me I’m going to be fighting tears any moment.

  “You and the little one,” she says, touching my stomach. “I’m pulling for you to be a girl.”

  “I’m not sure Ford can afford me if I have a girl,” I laugh. “I’m not even a girly-girl, but if this one turns out to be …”

  “Girl,” Camilla says, putting a hand on her hip, “if I get a niece, you better watch out! Dani says we spoil Ryan, which might be true, but a girl? All the things, Ellie. All the things.”

  Her cheeks redden a bit, her eyes sparkling. A weird look flickers across her face as her smile just grows.

  “Cam?” I ask curiously. I can’t help but return her smile.

  “You guys are giving me baby fever,” she giggles. “I just want to hold a baby, cuddle it, breathe in that baby scent. I could hold Ryan all day if Lincoln would let me.”

  I yelp as someone bumps me from behind. Ford’s arms go around my waist and pull me in to his chest. He rests his chin on the top of my head. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “I—” Cam begins, but is interrupted by the husband of one of their mother’s friends.

  “Good to see you, Ford,” he says. “How’s life going?”

  “She’s pretty good.”

  The man looks confused and then down at me. With a slow nod, he gives Ford a small smile. “That’s good. We are heading out. I just wanted to thank you, Mrs. Landry, for opening another business to take all of my money.”

  We all laugh as he and Ford bid their farewells and he exits, followed by the last two shoppers. Violet motions that she’s going for a coffee down the street and slips out behind them.

  The sun begins to set outside, the sky lit up with a spectrum of pinks and purples. It’s a beautiful evening, the perfect cap to a perfect day.

  I twirl the coin in my pocket that Huxley gave me as I watch Sienna make her way across the room.

  “That went over well,” Sienna says. “What a day, Ellie!”

  “I know. But my feet hurt,” I wince.

  “Let’s get you home and in the bath.” Ford grabs my hand and squeezes it. “You two need to hit the road.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Camilla laughs.

  I look up at my man and silently ask him if I can start the plan we’ve talked about since yesterday afternoon. He winks.

  “I want to invite the two of you to our house this weekend,” I say, trying to quell the burst of excitement in my belly. “I’m going to make dinner and would like you all to come.”

  “You do realize there are a bunch of us, right?” Sienna laughs. “You’re cooking for us all?”

  “Yup.”

  “Even Mom usually hires a caterer at this point,” Camilla giggles.

  “I want to do it,” I say fervently. “And I’d love for you to be there.”

  “Only if I can come early and help.” Camilla pulls me into a hug. “I don’t want you stressing my little niece out.”

  “Wait,” Sienna says, holding a hand up. “It’s a girl?”

  “We don’t know,” Ford says. I elbow him in the gut and he winces.

  Sienna’s brows pull together as she assesses the situation in front of her. “You guys know something. What is it?”

  “It’s a secret,” I say, giving Ford a look to be quiet. “One that you can be in on if you come to dinner on Saturday.”

  “Count me in,” Camilla says.

  “You,” Ford says, pointing at his blonde sister, “can only find out if you bring whoever it is you’re seeing.”

  Cam sighs, rolling her eyes. “Stop it.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “No, he’s not,” I say. “Of course, he’s welcome, whoever he is. But you can come without him.”

  “Just bring him, Cam,” Sienna gripes. “I’m tired of being in the middle about this.”

  “I can’t.” Camilla’s voice is a clear warning to her twin to tread lightly. “You know I can’t.”

  “You can. You just won’t.” Sienna gives Ford and I quick hugs and heads to the front door, Cam at her heels. “I’ll see you Saturday, I guess.”

  “Bye, guys,” I call out.

  As the door closes, I nearly fall backwards into Ford’s arms. I yelp as he picks me up, my legs dangling over one of his powerful arms, and look into his handsome face.

  Just looking at him makes me smile. Not because he’s my husband or so incredibly good-looking with his sun-kissed skin and rugged jawline, but because of what I see buried in those blue eyes.

  It could be described as love. Maybe respect. There’s a possibility it could be lust. But I think it’s more than that. It’s the look of forever.

  “I love you,” I whisper to him, my hand finding the side of his face. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

  He grins. “Pinky swear?”

  “Pinky swear.”

  Swink, Camilla Landry’s story, is up next.

  Swink

  One

  Dominic

  I’m that guy.

  Camilla Landry rustles against me, the silky fabric of her overpriced lingerie slipping along my bruised rib. The porcelain perfection of her skin is even more innocent against the colorful ink dotting my own. It’s demure meets damaged, pampered meets punctured.

  So, yeah, it’s obvious I’m that guy. Dominic Hughes. Her attempt at rebellion. Her bid to see what the other side of the tracks feels like. I’m okay with being used, because from where I’m sitting, the other side of the tracks has never looked so good.

  She lifts her head, her baby blue eyes finding the darker blues of my own. “What time is it, Dom?”

  “Not sure. Around five, probably.”

  “I should get up and get ready to go.”

  “Yeah, you better. You’d hate to be late. Daddy wouldn’t like that,” I tease.

  “It’s not just my dad,” she moans, smacking my stomach as she rises. “It’s Ford’s dinner party.”

  I start to give her shit, but the sight of her body dissolves the words before they can leave my mouth. She bends her five-two frame to pick up the panties I flung a few hours ago, her blonde hair hitting the curve of her hip.

  She moves with ease, the result of finishing school and a stint in ballet that she claims to have hated. Even with her hair a mess from being wrapped around my fist and her cheeks flushed from the orgasms I expertly delivered, she still appears absolutely put together. Unaffected. Maybe even slightly aloof. That is, until she turns her head and catches me looking at her.

  Just like the first time I saw her nearly a year ago, as soon as our eyes loc
k, everything changes. Her eyes hood, her lips parting ever-so-slightly. She bends again, slowly this time, her gaze never leaving mine.

  With one arched brow, she scoops a pair of pink heels from the floor. The globes of her ass pop in the air and give me a glimpse of the sweet spot I enjoyed for the last couple of hours.

  “Keep that shit up and you won’t be going anywhere,” I warn, not totally kidding.

  “I have no idea what you’re taking about. I’m just getting dressed.” She turns away, her bare ass facing me, giving me a front row seat as she slips the lace up her legs.

  The bedsprings groan as I leap off the bed and grab her around the waist before she can react with anything but a yelp. “Dom!” she giggles, her feet coming up off the floor as I lift her up and against me. Her chest rises and falls, the air rushing in and out of her lungs as she awaits my next move.

  “You wanna fuck with me?” I whisper in her ear. Her body melts into mine as a spray of goosebumps spatters her skin. “I’m not sure how much more cock you can take today, pretty girl.”

  Letting her feet drop to the floor, I keep one arm wrapped tightly around her waist as I lean my body, nearly a foot taller, down with hers. My lips hover over the shell of her ear. The warmth of my breath against her skin causes her breathing to become even more rapid.

  My free hand runs roughly down her body, starting just beneath her perky, full breasts and down the arch of her stomach to the tip of her pussy.

  Her cheek is soft against my chest as she releases a loose, heavy breath.

  “What do you want, Cam?”

  “You.”

  The word is just one syllable, a barely audible rush of air. Yet, it’s enough of a bucket of cold water, a dose of reality, to make me press a kiss to the back of her neck before stepping away.

  “You better get dressed,” I gruff, smacking her on the ass.

  She glares at me over her shoulder. “I hate when you do this.”

  “Do what?”

  There’s no answer, but there doesn’t have to be. Her point is clear and noted. For the record, I hate when I do this too. But it has to be done.