Lost In You (Swanson Court #3)

by Serena Grey

  He doesn’t mention her, or last night either. I abandon all attempts to eat. “So what’s going to happen with Evans?” I ask, breaking the silence.

  There is a small grimace, like he’d rather not talk about Evans or last night.” “Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs.

  I stare at him, exasperated. “Of course I’m worried. I was there yesterday. If you hadn’t moved out of the way so quickly…” I stop talking, the possibilities still fresh and fearful in my mind.

  He sighs. “He’s unstable and struggling with substance abuse problems. He’s blaming everyone but himself for everything that’s wrong with his life, but forget about him. He won’t be causing any trouble anymore.”

  “Is Ava going to get him into rehab?” I ask, my voice low.

  Landon looks at me, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “I was looking for you in the morning,” I tell him with a shrug. “I heard part of your conversation with her.”

  He is silent, so I continue.

  “The thing is, no matter how easily you brush last night away… I was afraid, Landon. I still am.”

  “Rachel…”

  “No, let me finish.” I hold his gaze. “It’s not just the physical danger to you. It’s more than that. I don’t like feeling that you let Evans off because of what his sister still means to you.”

  Landon sighs. “Rachel, I won’t deny that I tried to be considerate of Ava. Not because of what she means to me, but because I would have done the same for anyone else, especially someone I’ve had both a business and a personal relationship with.”

  Not because of what she means to me. He didn't deny that she still meant something to him. A vehement ‘she means nothing to me’ would have sounded like music to my ears. I stay quiet and let him continue.

  “Evans is obviously battling personal issues,” he says. “And I’m familiar enough with those to have some compassion for him.”

  “You can’t seriously compare what he’s going through to what you went through?” I say incredulously. “You witnessed an accident and blamed yourself when you shouldn’t have. Evans is a spoiled playboy who is acting out his dissatisfaction in a dangerous way.”

  Landon inhales sharply then looks away. “Well, he will go to rehab, or go to jail.” His voice takes on a chilling hardness. “Those are the options I’m going to give him. Either way, he won’t be bothering us again.”

  I remember the screech of the tires, the cold hand of fear that had clutched at my chest when, for that one moment, I’d been sure that Landon was going to be hurt. I look down at my hands and notice the slight shaking, as if I’m still right there, in the car, watching the glare of the headlamps on his face. I close my eyes. “Okay,” I whisper. “If you’re sure.”

  LANDON spends most of the morning working in his study. I return to the bedroom to shower before going out to the balcony to catch up on my reading. It’s a beautiful day, so it’s easy, after a while, to forget my anxiety and enjoy my book and the soft breeze teasing my cheeks.

  When Landon comes out to find me hours later, I’m so engrossed in my reading that when I finally look up and see him standing in the doorway, I’m sure he’s been standing there for a while.

  He’s still wearing his gray sweater from this morning, and there is such a tender look in his eyes that I feel my eyes start to sting.

  I love you to the point of tears. The quote enters my mind from nowhere, and I can’t even remember where I read it.

  Yes, I love him to the point of tears, because of how my feelings sometimes overwhelm me. I also love him to the point of joy, and laughter, and ecstasy.

  And he loves me too, whatever Ava Sinclair tries to tell herself.

  As if he can read my thoughts, he mouths the words. “I love you.”

  I breathe, my heart tightening as my lips lift in a tender smile. “I love you too.”

  He walks toward me, lowering his body onto one of the other chairs. “How’s your book?”

  I shrug. “Very good.” I start to tell him about it. It’s the book by Michael Davis, the author I’m going to interview in Barbados, and Landon listens attentively as I regale him with the details of the intricate plot.

  “Are you really enjoying this?” I ask after a while.

  “I love listening to you, especially when you’re so animated.” He smiles at me. “I ordered lunch. They’ll bring it up here any minute, so please tell me more.”

  I’m so thrilled with the compliment that I almost forget where I am in the story. I continue narrating to him until a hotel staff brings in our lunch and sets it out under Esmeralda’s watchful eyes.

  By the time they take the dishes away, my narration has caught up to where I am in the story.

  “So what do you think?”

  “I like it. You have to tell me the rest of it.”

  “Okay. Remind me when I finish.” I make to pick up the book again, but he stops me, his hand reaching out to hold mine. “Not right now,” he says. “Now I want to make love to you.”

  “Out here?”

  He grins. “Why not?”

  I forget about the book, allowing him to pull me up to my feet and down onto his lap. Soon I’m lost in the taste of his lips, the smooth heat of his skin, and the urgency of his touch. We undress each other then make love right there on his chair with me straddling him, and the mild afternoon sun teasing our sweat-slicked bodies. The balustrade is high enough that I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us, but I doubt that I would have cared.

  Later, we get ready for a double date we have with Laurie and Brett. We’re going to an art gallery opening, and then to dinner. My mom calls while we’re getting ready.

  “Sweetheart,” she coos in my ear.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m great,” I pause. “How are you?”

  She sighs. “Working. Planning the wedding. Are you ready for next week?”

  “Yeah,” I nod, forgetting for a moment that she can’t see me.

  “How’s Landon?”

  I look over at where Landon is buttoning a light blue shirt. He looks gorgeous, the perfect epitome of sexy manhood. “He’s great,” I tell my mom.

  “I’m thinking we should all have lunch on Sunday. It’s been a while since you all came over.”

  “Oookay,” I reply. “No problem.”

  “Will Landon be there?”

  “I’ll ask him,” I catch Landon’s eyes and mouth the words, “Sunday afternoon, my parents?”

  He nods.

  “He’ll be there.”

  She sighs. “Good. Laurie, Brett, and Dylan will be there too, and maybe Brett’s parents, they’re not sure yet.”

  “How are you all getting along in the planning?”

  “Very well,” she chuckles. “Jacie is holding everything together so well. She’s made two trips to Barbados in the past month. If we were younger, I’d envy her, but, oh well.”

  We talk some more about the wedding, then my dad comes on to say hello, telling me that he can’t wait to see me on Sunday.

  After the call, Landon walks over to zip up my dress. I tremble when his hands graze my skin, marveling at how he can make me want him even with that small touch.

  He turns me around after I’m all zipped, his eyes meet mine, and then silently he pulls me into his arms, holding me close like that for a few seconds. I wrap my arms around him too, content in our closeness. Somehow, I know he’s thinking about last night, but I don’t say anything, allowing him to take comfort from my touch.

  “Do you know what I was thinking,” he says. “That moment, when I saw the car coming toward me?”

  I swallow and shake my head.

  “I was thinking of you,” he sighs. “Only you, and how I never ever want to leave your side.”

  JOE drops us off at the entrance to the new gallery, but after the opening, we all walk to the restaurant where we’re having dinner. Our table is close to the window, and we make jokes an
d laugh while a few overzealous paps try to take Landon’s picture from the other side of the street.

  “Billionaire hotelier laughs while out on double date,” Laurie suggests when we start to propose possible headlines.

  “Or Landon Court bares teeth menacingly,” Landon offers, “They’ll prefer that.”

  “I don’t know how you manage it,” Brett says, shaking his head. “I’d probably retire to a deserted island and never show my face in public.”

  “I love New York too much,” Landon says wryly.

  Laurie nods. “Don’t we all?”

  “Your gym is growing,” Landon tells Brett. “I’m certain we’ll soon see things like ‘Fitness king Brett Andrews spotted smiling on the sidewalk this morning.’”

  “Ha ha,” Laurie guffaws. “Brett will always be smiling though.” She pats his hand on the table. “He’s jolly like that.”

  “I am jolly.” Brett agrees, nodding and pulling Laurie toward him so he can drop a kiss on her hair.

  “What can I say?” Landon grimaces. “I volunteer as the scowler of the group.”

  I kiss his cheek. “I love your scowly face.”

  We start to make plans for the next day, discussing and dropping the idea of going upstate together. Laurie has to go to the office to prepare some files for a deposition, so they might leave too late to make it by lunchtime, and since my mom will have a heart attack if we all miss lunch, we agree that Landon and I will leave without them.

  The next day is cheerful and relaxing. My mom overcomes any misgivings she has about Landon to join Aunt Jacie in fussing over him. Brett’s parents make it too, and his mom corners me to ask me when the family will be planning another wedding. “I’m a romantic at heart,” she tells me. “I just think weddings, and I melt.”

  “We’re not… We’re not there yet,” I stammer in reply, watching Landon in the dining room, setting the table with Uncle Taylor. I love him so much and yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but even I know that we’re not ready for that yet.

  Laurie and Brett finally arrive just in time for lunch, and afterward, Brett, Landon, and Dylan abandon us all to play video games in Dylan’s room. Laurie, who usually joins in, proclaims that the testosterone is too much for her and instead we all go into the study to watch my dad and uncle complete another game of chess.

  Toward evening, my mom invites us all out to the patio. The season has already changed, and even as the leaves redden and the sun starts to set in colorful shades, there is still some warmth outside. We drink fruit punch and watch the vibrant sky, talking about Barbados. Those of us who’ve been there share memories, and Brett’s parents express their excitement to go.

  On the way back, Laurie and Brett stay in the back while Landon drives. We’re all tired and a little drowsy, but Landon manages to stay alert, his fingers firm on the wheel. I prevent myself from drifting off by staring at him, at the perfection of his body and face.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  “I love you,” he replies, with a quick, tender glance in my direction.

  “And we love you,” Laurie quips, making everyone laugh.

  After we drop Laurie and Brett at their apartment, we drive over to the Swanson court. Upstairs in the apartment, we prepare for bed together, brushing our teeth side by side.

  “Did you visit Laurie’s Grandma often as a kid?” Landon asks.

  I shrug. “About three times through my teenage years and once after college. We always went during the holidays, so there were festivals and stuff. It’s usually awesome.”

  He nods. “What about your other grandparents?”

  I smile fondly, remembering my grandparents on the Foster side. “My mom was an orphan when she met my dad, but I knew my dad’s parents. They died a few weeks apart when I was about eleven. They had a farm, with cows and horses and pigs, and they built a treehouse for Laurie and me. We used to play ourselves into a stupor. Dylan had crushes on all the neighbor’s kids. They were fierce. Hunter, Vivienne, Dinah and ah... Thomas” I giggle, remembering how Dylan used to follow them around. “He loved them all equally.”

  Landon is smiling at me. “What happened to the farm?”

  “Dad and Uncle Taylor had to let it go,” I tell him, a little nostalgic. “There was a mortgage, and at the time, Trent &Taylor was still growing.”

  He frowns. “Do you miss it?”

  “I enjoy the memories,” I pause, looking at him. “How about you? Did you know any of your grandparents?”

  He nods. “My mother’s mother was very affectionate. She lived in San Francisco and she would make up holidays so she could buy us gifts.” He smiles fondly at the memory. “She died about a year before my mom. My dad’s parents were retired and living in France by the time I was born. We used to visit them once a year. After the accident, my grandfather wanted to move back, but he was too old, too sick, and what was he going to do with two little boys anyway? They never really knew how bad it was with my dad, thankfully, they died about three years apart, when I was a teenager.

  I try to imagine Lily Swanson and Alexander Court as an old couple. I’d read stories about them when I’d been scouring newspaper archives to learn more about Landon. They’d been a lovely couple, the media darlings of their time.

  The image gives way to one of Landon and me, together, old, after a fulfilled life with each other.

  The thought fills me with a hunger so intense my body almost seizes.

  “What are you thinking?”

  I smile at him. “Nothing really. Just what a devastating older guy you’d make.”

  He laughs and wiggles his eyebrows at me.

  He looks so comical I start to giggle. “Come on,” I tell him, taking his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

  BACK at work, I have a busy week, with intense pitch meetings with the Gilt Review team, and racing to meet the deadline on my first article, a short commentary on misconceptions about women’s fiction. I tidy all my tasks for the week as early as I can so that I can do last minute shopping with Laurie and my mom.

  On Sunday morning, Joe drives Landon and me to the airport. There is another man riding shotgun, a silent, well-built man who is obviously an extra precaution for added security. He’s been present since the middle of the week and even though Landon assured me that the extra security precaution was nothing to worry about, I still feel the ghost of Evans Sinclair and that horrible night outside the restaurant.

  I slip my hand over Landon’s and raise my eyes to his. In that first week I spent with him, I’d wondered how he managed to sleep so little and yet look as refreshed and alert as he always did. It was still a mystery to me. Years of training himself to need less sleep maybe? I sigh. He’d been sleeping less and less lately. The two nights I’d succeeded in convincing him not to get up, he’d slept beside me only to wake up a few hours later after having a nightmare.

  Looking at him now, he couldn’t be more different from the man I held in my arms until he went back to sleep. He looks so confident, so in control, that it’s hard for me to reconcile the two images.

  His eyes meet mine. “What are you worrying about now?”

  I smile. “Am I so transparent?”

  “No, but I’ve made it my business to memorize your every expression.”

  I flush, a smile curving my lips when his eyes linger on my face. His expression is tender and yet sensual. My mind goes to last night, and this morning, and the passionate goodbye we’d had in bed. “Stop saying lovely stuff to me. It’s hard enough to leave you as it is.”

  “Then don’t go,” he says, with his own version of a pout. It should be comical, but it’s damn sexy. I sigh. The thought of being without him for almost a full week makes me feel desperate too. He can’t make it to Barbados until the day before the wedding.

  “I want to turn the car around, take you somewhere, and hide you away,” Landon continues. “I love Laurie and I know she’s your family, but I’d rather steal you than lose you for a week.”


  “You’re not losing me. I’m just going to be halfway across the globe,” I laugh at his big frown. “Does it help that I feel the same way you do?”

  “No. That just gives me more incentive to want to steal you away.” He smiles at me. “I know I’m being selfish.”

  “You’re not selfish,” I tell him. “I’ll miss you too, terribly. It’s just… however tempting it is, we can’t lock ourselves away forever.”

  His eyebrow quirks and a small smile finds its way to his lips. “Why not?”

  “You know why not.” We both laugh, and he raises a hand to trace his thumb across my lower lip. I see his chest rise as his eyes rove my face, as if he’s trying to memorize every feature, and I can’t help but feel elated, grateful even, for the emotions I see on his face. It mirrors what I feel. “I don’t want to go a day without you,” he murmurs, “ever. If it can be helped at all.”

  Ever. My heart swells. “I love you,” I whisper. The car stops and we both look in the direction of the chartered plane where my family is already waiting. Then my eyes go to the front of the car, and where Joe and the other guy, I think his name is Collins, are seated quietly. I turn to Landon. “I need you to be safe.”

  “I’ll be.”

  “Landon,” I pause. “Will you at least think of talking to someone about your nightmares…?”

  He is quiet, so I continue. “Whatever you’re afraid of…”

  “The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you.”

  I shake my head. “You won’t.”

  He doesn’t reply. His eyes go to my fingers still wrapped in his. “Why don’t you start thinking of the kind of welcome you’re going to give me when I do get to Barbados.”

  “I’ll give you the tourist treatment. Show you the sights.”

  His eyes drop down to my body. “I know the sights I want to see, and I don’t have to fly miles and miles to see them.”

  That makes me chuckle. “You have a one-track mind.”

  “You make me unable to think of anything else.”

  “I hate that I have to go now.”

  “I hate that I have to let you.”