Sway (Landry Family #1)(33)

“He will. I just feel like it all falls on my shoulders, you know? And I feel like I’ve let him down so many times in his life already that I need to be especially vigilant.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

“It is, but let’s not talk about it. What are you doing today?”

His sigh drifts through the line. “Meetings. Committees. Interviews. Battling back this statement from Hobbs’ campaign today.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No. Not really.”

I can tell he’s bothered. It’s in the strain in the edges of his voice, the grit that scratches at his tone.

“I’d rather talk about you. How are you? How was your day?”

“Good. Busy. A touch lonely,” I hint.

“Have you given any thought to seeing me again?” he asks, his voice soft.

“A little,” I lie because it’s dominated my thoughts.

“I hope that it’s only a little because it took you two seconds to realize it was a good idea.”

“I want to . . .” I stand and try to keep my head clear.

“What are you afraid of, Alison? Talk to me.”

I decide to bare my soul. Leave it all out there, and then, maybe, my decision will be made for me.

“When I’m with you . . .” I begin, trying to figure out where to start.

“You find yourself smiling? And then you leave me and all you can think about is how to manage to see me again?”

My ears are sure they’re hearing things. “Barrett . . .”

“I’m not asking you for anything more than a bit of your time. I just want to see what it is between us that drives me insane. That keeps me up at night, that brings you to mind when I should be working on the campaign.” He takes in a rushed breath. “If you aren’t in the same boat, so to speak, then I’ll stop this pursuit. But, Alison, I think we are paddling towards the same target. We just need to see if we can get there if we paddle together.”

It’s do or die time and I have to pick a direction. If I seriously don’t want to see him again, I need to let him go. He’s right. But the thought panics me, sickens me. The idea of not having a chance at it being him on the other end of the phone when it rings feels so bad.

“What time is dinner?” I ask.

I can hear him grin through the phone. “I can meet you later tonight, or if you’d rather, I can make an hour or so in my schedule this afternoon for lunch?”

“I need to finish this paper I started earlier, but I work at four. Can you make it at one o’clock?”

“I can make it twelve or one or six if that means you’ll come.”

I smile like a loon. “At the Farm?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there at one. See you then.”

I hang up the phone and head to my closet to find something to wear.





Alison

THE WHEELS OF THE CAR crunch the gravel of the driveway. My heart rate picks up as I reach the end and flip the engine off.

Troy comes around the corner of the Farm and I give him a tight smile as I climb out.

“Are you okay, Ms. Baker?”

“I’m fine,” I say, nervously.

I am fine, just excited and nervous and ready to puke.

“I met Mr. Landry through his brother Ford. Have you met Ford?”

I shake my head, wondering why it matters to me how he knows Barrett.

“Ford and I were in the military together. Ford still is in the Marines, actually. Anyway, I opted out after a tour of duty overseas.” He leads me towards the front of the house, his pace decidedly slow. “We saw some action over there, and let’s just say it messed with me for awhile when I got home. I was pretty down and out, burned about every bridge I had ever built. And you know what?”

He stops in his tracks and looks at me, his grey eyes warm.

“Barrett was the only person that didn’t turn their back on me. I’d only met him twice before when I came around looking for Ford—I’d heard he was on furlough. I was a mess,” he grins. “And Barrett pulled me aside and helped me get cleaned up. He gave me a chance in his security detail.” His jaw stiffens, his eyes narrowing. “I know you don’t know him, and he may not like me even talking to you, and come to think of it, I’m not sure why I am other than I see a look of apprehension on your face. But trust me when I say, he’s the best man I’ve ever known.”

It does make me feel better, but it’s not something I didn’t already know. Barrett is a good man; I knew that from the moment he found me with Mr. Pickner. My nerves aren’t from that. They’re from just how good he might really be.

A fluffy yellow dog comes barreling towards us, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, from the other side of the house.

“Trigger, stop,” Troy commands. The dog sits without hesitation.

“Wow. He’s well trained,” I comment, following him to the steps.

“Of course he is. Ford wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Troy steps to the side as the front door sweeps open. “I’ll see you later. Enjoy.” And he’s gone.

I barely notice Troy’s departure because my eyes are glued to Barrett. He leans against the frame, one arm stretched overhead, a playful smile on his face. The edge of his white dress shirt lifts just enough to show a sliver of tanned and toned skin between it and the top of his jeans.