Sweet (Landry Family 6)

Me: Love you, pain in my ass.

Banks: *flexed bicep emoji*

Me: *eye roll emoji*

I breathe in a long, slow lungful of air.

It’s interesting how different perspectives make you feel.

Banks’s comments come from a true place of love because he’s family. He wants his little sister to be happy. Mom was absolutely delighted to know that I’d found someone who treated me right. But I haven’t ever talked about my past, certainly not my need for safety against the cold things in life.

Marcie’s one of my best friends, but she’s drawing her thoughts from actual conversations we’ve had. Was I that jaded that I’ve never said anything positive about being in a relationship? I’m sure she wants me to be happy too, but do I listen to her voice over the others who are happy for me?

Don’t let Marcie get in your head. You know your relationship with Nate and everything is fine.

“For what it’s worth, I love you too.”

A smile stretches across my face, and I go back inside.

TWENTY-SEVEN

NATE

I press enter.

The confirmation screen appears on the screen, listing the supply items I just ordered for next week. I screenshot the number and then exhale.

Life is good.

I sit back in my chair and stretch my arms overhead. Paige’s perfume still lingers somehow. It crosses my mind that it might be on me and not still embedded into a piece of fabric in the room—and that makes me smile.

Knock! Knock!

“Yeah?” I call out.

The door opens, and Shaye and Kira walk in. They’re both grinning suspiciously.

“What?” I ask. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Shaye says. “We need a favor.”

“I kind of need a favor.” The last time someone asked me for a favor, it changed my entire life.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Kira sighs. “You’ll tell us this is stupid and to use our phone, and we did. But the screens aren’t big enough.”

What?

“You’re just going to have to understand that we’re women, and this is important to us,” Shaye says. “Okay?”

“I’m not okaying anything until I know what you want.”

“We need to borrow your computer,” Kira says.

I look at her like she’s crazy. “No.”

“Come on,” Kira says. “Please?”

“No.” I roll my chair back so I can square up to them. “The last time someone used my computer, they looked at porn. I got a virus—the computer got a virus—and I had to get a new one. Then I had to reload all my shit, and that took forever, and I didn’t know any of my passwords. So the answer is no.”

Shaye scoffs. “You should always use your pet’s name followed by your birthday. If you need a special character, use the one above the six and nine.”

“That’s complicated,” I say.

“How is that complicated? It’s all the things you should know already. It’s the simplest formula in the world,” she says.

I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees. “What if I don’t have a dog?”

“You’ve never had a dog? Ever?”

“No. Never had a dog. I went from having a fighting problem to a son. Skipped the whole dog thing.”

Kira sticks out her bottom lip. “Well, that’s sad.”

“What’s sad is that the bar is now apparently a free-for-all because my employees are back here wanting to use my computer for some ridiculous thing.” I raise a brow. “Am I right?”

“No,” Kira says, mocking me. “Murray is taking care of it for a second. There’s no one out there. It’s dead.”

I sigh. “The next employee that I hire, I’m gonna be a dick so they don’t bother me.”

Shaye laughs. “You’re already a dick. You’ll need to level up.”

I roll my eyes.

I’m not going to get out of this. And, really, I don’t even care. I just have to give them a hard time so they don’t think I’ve lost it.

Can’t have them think they can steamroll me now that I’m getting soft.

“Fine,” I say, motioning to the computer. “But be quick about it.”

They waste no time waking the screen out of sleep mode. Then surprisingly, Shaye unlocks it with my passcode.

“Hey,” I say, rolling my chair closer. “How did you do that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows your passcode is Ryder with a six and a nine.”

They do? I better change that.

I watch as they pull up a page full of girly shit.

“Just search it by the item number,” Kira says before rattling off a long series of numbers.

Shaye’s fingers fly across the keyboard and hit enter with a flourish.

“That’s it,” Kira says, pointing at the screen.

I lean closer to see what they’re talking about. But it’s not necessary. Shaye hits some keys, and then visibility is not an issue.

A ring with a purple stone takes up the entire screen.

“What’s that?” I ask.

Kira looks at me over her shoulder and beams. “My boyfriend told me last night that he wants to propose to me and asked me to find a ring.”