The Relationship Pact(62)

We proceed up the tree-lined drive. The house in front of us is even more impressive than the Landry’s. It appears to be three stories, all brick, with a manicured lawn that’s lit up by little hanging lanterns in the trees.

It looks like a movie set. There are no two ways about it.

“This is pretty, huh?” she asks.

“Pretty fucking incredible. Holy shit, Riss.”

She grins. “This is my favorite place in the world.”

“I thought it was with me,” I say as I park my car behind a Range Rover.

“You’re totally a close second.”

I shake my head, knowing she’s full of shit.

She doesn’t wait for me to open her door, but she’s so excited to get inside that I can’t blame her. She reminds me of how I feel on the first day of football practice. I can’t deny her that kind of joy.

A arch has been erected out of golden-colored lights. Larissa takes my hand as we approach it.

“They don’t spare any expenses, do they?” I crack.

“No. This is my aunt’s claim to fame.”

We walk through the lights to see what appears to be icicles dripping from the top. It’s incredible, and I wish I had this kind of money lying around to put to my claim to fame.

Not that I know what that would even be. But still.

We enter through an oversized wooden door, and it’s party chaos in the most sophisticated way. There’s music playing through speakers hidden from view. Balloons in golds and silvers coat the ceiling with little ribbon pieces extending down and floating just a few feet overhead. The house is crowded with people wearing everything from suits and dresses like Jack’s event to jeans and T-shirts.

“What do you think?” Larissa asks.

“It’s … something.”

“Come on. Let’s find my family.”

I suck in a breath and allow her to lead me through the throngs of people. We’re stopped every few steps, and I’m introduced to someone new. It’s not until I hear someone yell Larissa’s name that I put a face with a name.

Kelvin McCoy, the guy I listen to all the time while I’m going over the playbook, stands in front of me with his arms wrapped around my girl. He holds a cup of beer in one hand and grins at me over Larissa’s head.

“Hey,” he says to me. “You must be the famous Hollis Hudson.”

Larissa ducks out from under his arms.

“Hollis, this is my cousin Coy. Coy, this is Hollis.”

Coy shakes my hand and pulls me into a man-hug.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Boone keeps me pretty up-to-date on the family. And Mom told me that Riss was pretty crazy over some dude—ouch!” he says as Larissa sticks an elbow in his side. “I probably shouldn’t have said that,” he jokes.

“You think?” Larissa threatens to elbow him again. “Behave. Please.”

Coy smirks. “If I behave, can we go get Bells?”

Larissa rolls her eyes. “No. Leave her alone.”

“She isn’t coming?” I ask.

Larissa levels her gaze to me. “When she said she wouldn’t come if Coy was home, she meant it.”

I look at Coy. He’s flashing me a shit-eating grin.

“All right. I gotta go say hi to some more people. Only home for about eighteen hours, so I gotta make the best of it,” Coy says.

“It was nice to meet you,” I say.

“You, too. I’ll catch up with you guys before you leave.” He runs his hand on top of Larissa’s head, much to her dismay. “See ya, Riss.”

I open my mouth to comment on just meeting a rock star when another man comes up to Larissa’s side and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

What the hell? I open my mouth to make some shit clear when the man laughs.

“How are you, baby girl?” he asks.

Larissa laughs at whatever my face does. “Hollis, please meet my father, Howard.”

I make a face like I just made a mistake. Howard laughs right along with me.

“How are you?” he asks, shaking my hand.

“Good, except I think I just made an ass out of myself.”

He smiles widely. “Hell, no. I like it. It shows you know how special this little girl is.”

Larissa beams. I think my cheeks turn red.

“I hear you play football,” he says.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to move past my fuckup. “Tight end.”

“I was a linebacker through my sophomore year at Kent State. Found out I had spinal stenosis, and that ended my football career,” he says. “But, hell—I did just fine in life without football. There could be a worse ending to this story.”

I nod. “That’s true. Absolutely.”

“If I would’ve known you were coming, I would’ve looked you up. I feel a little rude not knowing your stats.”

I laugh. “Trust me—this was a shit year. I’m happy you haven’t seen them.”

“We all have those years.” He takes a drink of his beer. “What brings you to Savannah?”

Larissa steps into our line of sight. She grins at me. She looks … proud.