Swing (Landry Family #2)(64)

“I think he loves you too,” Graham says.

I shrug because now I’m thrown off my game. I fight my brain for control over my emotions, to stay focused and enjoy the weekend. I don’t know what the future holds, but I want us both to be happy.

“What about you?” I say, attempting to pivot this conversation back around to him. “Will you have a girlfriend or wife here today?”

He laughs full-out now, sending a flock of birds finding refuge in the trees. “I don’t date.”

“You aren’t one of those that don’t believe in love, right?” I tease.

“I absolutely believe in love,” he says. “I’ve seen it. Hell, I’m looking at someone in love right now.” We exchange a smile before he continues. “But loving someone means giving them some control of your day, your life. That’s not something I’m good at.”

“But doesn’t it make things seem so much better to share your day, your life, with another person?”

“Certain times of the day, yes,” he winks. “I don’t have extra hours free to dote on someone. That’s the reality of it. I’ve spent so many years getting to where I want to be career-wise, getting plans in place to take our company to the next level. I love it. It’s my passion. And it works because I have a system.”

“You’re a control freak.”

“I’m okay with that.”

His mouth opens to say something else when the door creaks and Lincoln steps outside. His hair is styled, kind of swept up and to the side. The wine colored shirt stretches across his lean body and his legs are showcased in dark denim. I almost whimper.

“Hey, now,” Lincoln teases, coming to my side. “Don’t get any ideas, G.”

“Welcome to how Barrett must feel,” Graham laughs. “I’m heading inside for a drink.”

He disappears and Lincoln pulls me into a hug. I breathe him in, letting his scent settle over me and calm my frazzled nerves.

“Want a glass of tea?” he asks against my hair.

“Yes, please.”

Instead of heading into the house, he just pulls me closer. “I want you to know,” he gulps, “that I really like having you here. I was in the shower and thinking about you here with my family today, and well, I haven’t felt like this ever.”

I lift my chin and look at his face in the early morning sun. There is no joke teasing his lips, no distraction in his eyes. It’s just a simple emotion that I’ve never seen before. A pure sentiment that I think I can read and I definitely feel.

I shouldn’t. Things like this need to be thought out. Yet he strips me of all logical thinking and my mouth opens before I can sort through all the chatter in my head. “Lincoln, I—”

He kisses me before I get the rest out. I gasp, taken aback by the gesture I didn’t see coming. It’s a bit of a letdown that I didn’t get it out. But when he pulls back, his eyes shine.

“Dani,” he roughs, his tone gravelly. “I know what you were going to say.”

I try to look away, embarrassed. Oh, God . . .

Attempting to pull away, I hear him snicker. The embarrassment turns to anger and I flip my eyes back to him, ready to light him up, but I stop in my tracks. His smile is so soft I stutter.

“I wanted to be first,” he whispers. “I love you, Ryan Danielle.”

I do the only thing I can. I kiss him.





Danielle

“I COULDN’T EAT ANOTHER BITE,” Sienna moans, lying flat on her back in the middle of the living room floor. A football game is on the television mounted on the wall. Even though this room is large, with this many people, it feels crammed. It’s wonderful. Maybe even perfect.

I sit on Lincoln’s lap on a love seat next to Ford. Graham and his father stand behind the couch, each with a tumbler of dark liquor, discussing something in detail. Camilla is stretched out beside her sister, her phone in her face, while Barrett and Alison are curled up on the couch. Huxley is leaning against a giant Arrows pillow with a game in his hand.

Vivian enters, looking no worse for the wear after cooking what can’t be described by any other word than feast. A tray of snacks in her hands, she sits it on the table in front of Barrett and Alison. “Anyone need a nibble?”

“Mom, really?” Lincoln asks, rubbing his stomach. “I don’t even want to look at food.”

“I get everyone home for a few days a year. Pardon me for wanting to feed you,” she says. Taking in the scene in front of her, she smiles proudly. “I love having you all here.”

“We love being here, Mom.” Sienna blows her a kiss then groans. “But really, get that food out of here. Ugh. So. Full.”

“What do you think?” Vivian looks at me. “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. I’m great. Can I help you with anything?”

She looks at Lincoln, then at his hand on my knee, then back to me. “Just make my baby boy happy and let me know if he gets out of line.”

“Her baby boy,” Ford mocks, grabbing Lincoln in some kind of head lock. “Aw, mommy’s baby.”

“You’re just jealous,” Lincoln laughs, somehow maneuvering out of Ford’s hold.

Ignoring her rowdy boys, Vivian lifts the tray again. “No one wants anything? Huxley? Want a cookie?”