My heart fills, even more so when Graham squeezes my hand. Mr. Landry looks at me again. “I wanted to thank you again for helping sort out that contract this week. I’m not sure it would’ve gone through without you, Mallory.”
“What are you talking about?” Graham asks, his brows pulling together.
“Lincoln’s contract for the foundation he and Danielle are starting had a few hiccups. I mentioned it in passing when I was in the office for Ford’s meeting, and she jumped right in and helped get some details straightened out.”
Mr. Landry smiles proudly at me. He’s handsome, an older version of Graham, with a deep voice and an easy charisma. I can only imagine what he was like in his youth.
“I didn’t know this,” Graham looks down at me, a look of intrigue on his face. “When did you do that?”
“That’s why I stayed late the other day,” I remind him. “Remember?”
Mr. Landry clasps Graham’s shoulder as he heads towards the house. “Pictures in a few minutes, son.”
“I’ll be there,” Graham says, still looking at me. He turns his body to face mine, a little smile trying to break across his face. “Why didn’t you mention Lincoln’s contracts to me?”
“You were busy,” I explain. “You had all of Ford’s things on your desk and Lincoln’s contracts were something I could handle quickly without your involvement. There were no decisions to be made, just a shuffling of information.” When he smiles, I return it as my heart flutters in my chest. “I was just trying to take a few things off your plate, Graham. I hope that’s okay.”
He bends down and presses the simplest kiss against my lips. I see it coming, but it’s quick enough that there’s no time to prepare. When he pulls away, I’m breathless.
“Thank you,” he whispers almost reverently.
“For what?” I say, my voice sounding shakier than I’d like. “For doing my job?”
He just smiles. “For so many things.”
“That sounds like a cop-out,” I laugh.
“It is, in a way. I . . .”
“Graham!” We turn to see Sienna standing on the back porch. “Mom is freaking out. We never, ever wait on you. She’s certain the world is falling apart today.”
Graham chuckles and indicates for her that he needs one second. His gaze returns to me as he forces a swallow. “I don’t want to be here long tonight. I’ll make my speech, watch them cut the cake or whatever, but we’re leaving as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”
“Your sisters warned me you do this,” I laugh.
“I probably do,” he sighs. “But tonight . . . it’s different.”
“Okay.”
He walks towards his sister. There’s something about his posture that strikes me. It’s not his usual purposeful walk, like he had somewhere to be ten minutes ago. Today, his hands are in his pockets, his posture easy.
As he reaches the steps, he hesitates, looking back at me. When he catches me watching him, his face breaks out in a huge smile. I return it, feeling my heart nearly burst in my chest. He simply shakes his head before disappearing inside.
The smell of fresh flowers drifts through the air. A fairly small group of people, maybe thirty or forty, sit in white chairs with yellow tulle tied in a bow on the backs. The pastor reads from his script while everyone watches Danielle and Lincoln.
They’re beautiful, magazine-like, as they hold hands and face one another in front of their friends and family. I’m not sure Lincoln is listening to the words being spoken. He’s just gazing at his bride like she’s the only person here. It’s fun to watch, and I understand why the woman beside me elbowed her husband in the side and told him to take notes.
My gaze, however, is affixed to the man right behind the groom. The one slightly taller, slightly darker, much broodier. The one out of the group of brothers that seems slightly frustrated by having all of this attention on him, the only one that didn’t mug for pictures before the wedding started. Barrett teased him that he was too uptight, but I have a feeling it was because he would have had to look somewhere other than at me.
Because that’s all he has done—looked at me like he’s never seen me before. Sometimes it’s like we’re sharing an inside joke, but other times it’s like he’s completely perplexed at me sitting here amidst his family. All the time, however, he’s looking like he wants to jump off the step someone built for this occasion and whisk me away.
“Lincoln?” The pastor nudges the groom and he laughs.
“Sorry, Pastor Frank.”
“That’s fine,” he says to a bubble of laughter from everyone. “It’s time for your vows.”
Lincoln turns and takes the ring from Graham and hovers it over Danielle’s finger. “I, Lincoln Harrison Landry, take you, Ryan Danielle Ashley, to be my wife. I promise to keep coffee creamer in the fridge, chocolate donuts on the counter, and ice water by the bed.” He winks at Danielle, who blushes. “I promise to listen when you’re mad, hug you when you’re sad, and put your needs and desires before mine, even when you ruin my favorite shirts.”