Swear (Landry Family 4)

“So you want to move there? And not go back to LA?”

Her smile is contagious. “We’d run the business from Illinois. I’d join as co-CEO and we’d do the work from Illinois, going back to LA if we need to. She’s making a fortune, Ford, and Graham’s finally freed me up some cash to do with what I want.” She sets her jaw. “This is what I want to do.”

“Did you not want to design socks like six weeks ago?”

Exasperated, she throws her hands in the air. “That was then. This is now.”

“Sorry,” I flinch, scooting back a little. “So, Illinois and designing what?”

“Clothes. Computer skins. Hats. Maybe socks,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I want to do this.”

“I can tell.”

“But I need to know if you think it’s stupid.”

Of course I think it’s stupid. Designing computer skins with a fashion degree that’s fees could feed a small island for a year is asinine. I know Graham is going to have a major meltdown and Dad isn’t going to be thrilled either.

Before I can say that, I see the glimmer of hope in her eye. It’s similar to the one Camilla flashed me when she came to me to appeal to my rational side.

“Why did you come to me with this?” I ask.

“Because you’re rational.”

“Damn it,” I laugh. “Do I need to be more of a dick or something so you and Cam will stop asking me for approval for dumb shit?”

“Oooh,” she says, leaning forward. “What did Cam say?”

“I’m not talking to you about it because you won’t tell me certain things I want to know.”

Her bottom lip pouts out. “I can’t.”

“Tell me this,” I ask. “Who will flip out more? Graham? Barrett? Lincoln? Or me?”

“Maybe . . .” she considers this. “Barrett. I think. I don’t know. Maybe G? You aren’t going to be thrilled either.”

My head goes into my hands, my stomach churning. “If this is what having a daughter is like, may God bless me with sons.”

“Hey,” she says, punching my arm. “You know you love your sisters!”

“I do,” I say, picking up my burger. “But I love you more when you go to Graham with your crap.”

She laughs as we go back to our dinner, and I realize that even though Sienna drives me crazy, it feels good to have someone else here tonight.

Ellie

“YOU COULD BE WITH FORD,” I taunt myself like the crazy person I’m beginning to think I am. Pouring myself a cup of hot tea with honey, I hope it somehow helps me get to sleep.

It won’t.

There won’t be sleep when my heart hurts so much.

When my body misses his touch.

As my fingers itch to touch him, to feel him grin against the side of my neck in the middle of the night, sleep will be out of reach. Just like he is.

The bowl of half-eaten soup sits next to the sink. Half of it is probably full of tears as I took the soup that Ford asked Violet to bring me and cried on her shoulder.

Carrying my teacup, I make my way into the living room and set it on the coffee table. The pillows bounce as I drop onto the cushions and pick up the remote. There’s nothing on but the infomercials I’ve already watched twice. I almost purchased the copper pots.