Swing (Landry Family 2)

My palms are sweating as I prepare to see Lincoln. We’ve talked and texted over the last few days. It’s been light and funny, and I’ve found myself laughing more, smiling more, even when I’m not with him. It’s the Landry effect. I keep reminding myself this is for fun, for the off-season, to keep it in perspective. He makes that seriously hard to do.

Giving myself a quick inspection, I’m confident in the dress I chose. A navy blue lacy overlay atop a silky fabric, the halter top shows off my toned arms, and the way the bottom hits mid-thigh will hopefully give him ideas.

Filling my lungs with precious air, I fight to stay calm. I almost cancelled this a hundred times since he left my office. I shouldn’t be here. It’s only going to lead to disappointment.

My breath catches in my throat as he comes into view.

Scratch that. It’s going to lead to an orgasm and he’s not even going to have to touch me.

He’s standing at the table, a tumbler of a clear liquid in his hand. Dressed in a pair of slim-fit khaki pants, a deep brown leather belt winds around his trim waist. A black dress shirt, rolled up to the elbows and the top couple of buttons undone, and I want to devour him. Throw him on the ground and just go for it.

I wonder vaguely if the rooms are soundproof as he walks to me. It’s an unhurried movement, like he knows that every second I have to anticipate his hug or kiss on the cheek gets me one second closer to combusting. The door shuts as the waiter leaves. I force a swallow, my mouth dry and hot. The light catches on the face of his watch and just amplifies how much he looks like he walked off a movie set.

Dear God.

The glass isn’t in his hand anymore when he reaches me, and I have no idea where it went. All I can see are his arms reaching for me, and I hold my breath as he makes contact.

His right hand lands on the small of my back as he leans in and kisses me on the cheek. When he pulls back, both spots immediately feel cold.

“You look gorgeous,” he says. Taking a step back to see me better, I feel his gaze scorch a path from my eyes, down my neck, across my breasts, all the way to my feet. “Just gorgeous, Dani.”

I don’t even correct him. I can’t. I can’t find my voice.

This is the first time seeing him in something other than sweatpants or shorts. I might’ve thought I was prepared, but I’m not. He’s divine. Classy. Sophisticated. Yet, a little rogue.

He takes my hand, his palm wide and warm, and leads me to the table. Pulling out my chair like a gentleman, he waits for me to sit. Once I’m settled, he disappears for a moment before returning with a bouquet of white roses.

“Lincoln! They’re beautiful,” I say, taking the flowers from h

im. As I lean in to take a deep breath, I notice one pale pink rose hidden in the midst of the cream ones. I look at him. He’s smiling. “I’ll bite. Why is there one pink one?”

“Because there’s always one that stands out from the bunch, just like you.”

My jaw drops as I swoon. “Wow,” I laugh. “That’s good.”

His chuckle joins mine as he sits across from me. “It is, right? I can’t take credit for it. I called my sister, Sienna, and she offered it up.” His brows pull together. “I hope that doesn’t take away from the gesture.”

“It doesn’t,” I say, smelling the flowers again. “Thank you.”

A waitress comes in and sits the vase on a wet bar and takes our order. Once we have wine, we’re alone again.

“I was afraid you weren’t going to show,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

“You knew I’d come.”

“I know you’ll come if you want to.”

We exchange a smoldering look. He tugs at the collar of his shirt.

“You really do look gorgeous, Dani. I wish now more than ever I would’ve picked you up and gotten the privilege of walking in with you on my arm.”

“You picking me up would’ve been pushing it,” I laugh. “One step at a time.”

“One step at a time,” he repeats. “How was your day? Anything interesting happen? Did the asshole doctor stop by?”

“No,” I giggle. “What did he ever do to you?”

His head cocks to the side. “He thinks he has a chance with you.”