Sway (Landry Family 1)

I’m in my head, thinking about how comfortable I feel, when I look up and into his eyes. He’s leaned back in his chair just watching me.

I flush. “What?”

“Just watching you.”

“Obviously,” I laugh nervously. “Why?”

He lifts his shoulders in a half-hearted attempt at shrugging. A smile curls the side of his face. “You’re crazy beautiful.”

“I . . .” I sit my fork down and place my hands on my lap. Forcing a swallow, I will myself to look back up at him. “Thank you.”

“You don’t take compliments well.”

“They’re always just unexpected. That’s all.”

His head cocks to the side, like he’s working a puzzle. “Men don’t tell you that all the time? I find that hard to believe.”

“Sometimes, yes, I suppose,” I say, searching for words. “I never really go out of my way to date or anything. So it’s not like I’m in situations where someone is going to blurt it out there.”

“You don’t date? At all?”

Shaking my head, I smile sadly. “No. Occasionally, I guess. But they’re few and far between. Intentionally,” I toss in at the last minute, not wanting to seem like I’m bad goods.

“Trust me when I say I fully understand why someone wouldn’t want to date at certain periods in their lives. I’m kind of there now.” He touches his finger to his lip, trying to hide a smirk. “I’m supposed to be there now,” he corrects himself.

I giggle, closing my container and sitting it off to the side. My appetite is now long gone, and I have a propensity to fiddle when I’m nervous. I don’t want to be jacking with the slaw like a little kid, and I will be if I don’t get it out of my face.

“I’m sure you are,” I agree.

“I’m in this election and I have to lock down my image, as stupid as that sounds.”

“Remember when I told you I don’t know a lot about you?” I wink. “I do know enough to know you’re portrayed as a playboy. So you ‘locking down your image’ seems like a good idea.”

He rolls his eyes and it’s obviously a point of contention with him. “Who I’m dating doesn’t affect how I do my job.”

“I can see both sides of the argument.”

“A discussion for another day,” he says, obviously not wanting to delve into it. “My question is this: why are you not dating?”

His hands form a steeple that his chin rests on. The dimple in his left cheek sinks in just a bit and I want to touch his skin, feel the smoothness under my own.

“Alison?”

“Lots of reasons,” I say simply, knowing that’s not going to be enough to get around the topic.

A part of me wants him to know so that maybe it’ll make whatever happens next easier. Whether that’s him never calling me again or us meeting for lunch or dinner, it’ll be easier if he knows my hesitations to all of this.

“I told you I have a son. His father is out of the picture completely and I really need to make sure I’m focused on him. He deserves that from me and I’m the only parent he has.”

“Can I ask where his father is?”

I force a swallow. “He’s in prison.”

Barrett’s eyes fly open and he sits back in his seat again.

“He was a judge in Albuquerque,” I continue, figuring I may as well get it out there and over with. “Got caught up in some big scandals and was eventually disbarred, convicted of tampering with evidence, bribery, solicitation of bribery, solicitation of prostitution, and possession of drugs. Among other things. That’s the quick list.”

“Nice guy,” Barrett says, whistling through his teeth.