Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
DANIELLE
IT FEELS LIKE WE’VE TRAVELED forever when, in reality, it’s not been an entire day.
We left Savannah first thing this morning, before the sun was up.
Troy drove us back to the airport and we nearly missed our connecting flight in Atlanta because of fog.
By the time we landed in Memphis, we were both completely wiped out.
I flop on my sofa and it’s not two seconds before Lincoln collapses beside me. His head crooks to the side and he grins. “Been a long day, huh?”
“Yeah,” I whine. “And it’s not even two in the afternoon yet.” I rub my stomach. “I think I’m still full from yesterday.”
“So, what did you think?” Lincoln asks, his hand resting on my knee.
I smile. “I loved the Farm, Landry. Thank you for taking me for Thanksgiving.”
“My family is pretty awesome, huh?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “I can’t imagine growing up with all of them. Was it as chaotic as I imagine?”
“Absolutely. There was always something happening, someone into something they shouldn’t be. It was a great way to grow up.” He stretches his neck before resting it against the sofa.
“I hope to have a family like yours someday.”
“Me too.” He draws a pattern on my knee that I can’t decipher. Over and over and over something is traced onto my skin. “What did you think about my sisters?”
“They were sweet. Sienna reminds me of you and Camilla needs a friend that isn’t a Landry.”
“I would recommend you, but she did suggest you be added as a Landry.” His gaze holds mine as I digest his insinuation.
“She’s crazy,” I whisper, feeling the weight of his words sitting on top of my heart.
“Is she, Dani? We’ve been exclusive since I walked off the elevator. You just didn’t know it.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, I know so,” he grins. “It’s been me and you from the start and that’s the way I want it to be. I want you to start staying at my house.”
I begin to object, to give him an opening to reassess. The pad of his finger touches my lips, effectively silencing me. “Dani, I mean it. I want you with me.”
“I want to be with you too.”
“I hear it. But what?”
“But I want to be careful we don’t rush this, Landry.”
“We aren’t rushing anything,” he insists. “We’re adults.” He takes my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “We love each other, right?”
“Right,” I whisper.
I’ve never said something as truthful as that.
I love him. I love Lincoln Landry. It scares me, both from the power of the feeling and from who he is.
I don’t know what the future is going to hold.
I just know that it’s him and me. Together.
And we can write our own truth far away from the poison that tainted me.
“I don’t want to think about coming home and not having you there. I’m not saying move in,” he says as I try to object again, “but I do want to think you like being with me and want to be there. A lot.”
“So don’t bring my bed, just my lingerie?” I joke.
“Bring the fucking bed if it’ll keep you there,” he laughs.
“Bring what you want. That’s the thing: I want you to feel comfortable at my house.
I want to blend more of our lives together.
I’ve realized the more we do that—getting your favorite things at my place, seeing you wear my shirts, sleeping in my bed, having you meet my family—the happier I am and the happier you seem. ”
He’s right. I don’t have to say it because he obviously knows, but he is absolutely correct.
There’s not a part of me that feels unchanged from the me before Lincoln Landry waltzed off the elevator onto the wrong floor.
I can’t remember what I did after work or what I thought about then as I went to sleep.
I surely don’t remember my face hurting from smiling so much.
“I love you,” I say.
Kissing the top of my head and then unfolding himself from the sofa, he stretches his arms overhead. “I need to go. I have a meeting with the Arrows in a few hours and I need to unpack and grab a shower and shit.”
I stand too. “How do you feel about it?”
“My shoulder feels better. But the thing is, I don’t know what they’re going to say about it. Once you’ve had this happen, it tends to reinjure and that means games on the bench.”
My stomach twists as the game that ruined my life comes back into play.
I’ve put off thinking about this meeting, not asking too many questions and not pressing for details.
Lincoln has seemed fine with that. But now, knowing it’s looming over his head, I can’t help the series of questions firing through my mind.
“Do you want to stay in Memphis?” I ask, biting my bottom lip. “I mean, if you have the choice, is that what you want?”
“Of course.” He takes a step to me and brushes the back of his hand down the side of my face. “Really, I’d be happy anywhere if you were there with me.”
“I live here,” I point out, my voice wobbling.
“And, right now, so do I. Most likely I will when I get back later today too.” He bends forward and takes in what I’m sure is anxiety written all over my face. “Hey. Relax. It’s just a meeting.”
“It’s just a meeting,” I repeat, although that’s not true and I hate that he’s comforting me. “I know that. Now go, get it over with so we know what we’re facing.”
“Exactly.” He kisses my forehead. “It’s what we’re facing because we’ll figure it out together, all right?”
“All right.”
He gives me one final, reassuring look and then leaves.
As soon as the door closes, the walls cave in.
The hum of the ice maker in the kitchen dances through the air and it only makes the quiet more obvious.
No one is laughing, no one arguing. A television isn’t on in another room and cell phones aren’t chirping from some far corner of the house.
It’s just me.
And I hate it.
I drag my luggage to my room and empty the clothes into the laundry bin. Sorting my toiletries in the bathroom, I try to hum, sing, talk to myself out loud just to break the stillness. It seems that is something that can’t be fixed by my antics alone. It’s something deeper that yearns to be filled.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I type a quick text to Lincoln.
Me: Good luck today.
Landry: I don’t need luck. I have you.
Me: Charmer. Call me when you get home.
Landry: Just be there waiting on me. Key is under the front mat.
Me: Gasp! That’s the most obvious place to put it.
Landry: Good point. Use the one I put on your keychain then. ;)
I bounce to my purse in the living room and dig until I find my keychain. There’s an extra key with a purple rubber band around the top dangling in between my car key and my house key.
Me: Sneaky!
Landry: I should be home around eight. I’d love for you to be there.
Me: I might be able to pull that off.
Landry: If you need a moving truck to help you . . .
Me: What happened to one day at a time?
Landry: That idea sucks. I’ve moved on. Note: You have too. ;) Jumping in shower. See you soon.
Me: xo
***
DANIELLE
I’VE DONE THREE LOADS OF laundry, folded them, and put them away.
I’ve reorganized my bathroom cabinets and purged about twenty bottles of crusty fingernail polish that outlived their expiration date by a few years.
Then I sorted my lingerie into two piles—pretty and Aunt Flow.
Looking at the clock, I still have a few hours before Lincoln is done.
There would be no issue with me going over there early. I have a freaking key. While that seems like a winning idea, and one that will make me less likely to end up in the looney bin this afternoon, I don’t want to do it. It’s too presumptuous.
I’ve jumped into a lot over the past few weeks, much of which I promised myself I never would. But I trust him. I want him. I even love him, which is enough to make me want to absolutely freak out if I think about it too long. So I don’t let myself go there.
Rushing into my bedroom and opening my suitcase that still sits on my bed, I toss in a few days’ worth of clothes and cosmetics and latch it shut.
Grabbing a phone charger from the wall in the kitchen, as well as my keys, I head out the front door and lock it behind me.
Within a few minutes, I’m in my car and heading across town towards the Smitten Kitten.
When I arrive, the eatery is bursting with aromas unusual for a Saturday afternoon. My brows are pulled together as I make my way to the counter.
“What’s that smell?” I ask. “What are you doing?”
Pepper is covered in flour. It dusts her nose, cheekbones, front of her apron and both arms. She blows out a breath and little white particles go floating. “The mixer had a mishap.”
“You or the electric one?” I laugh. “You look like a ghost!”
“I’m trying to make this soup I found online from China. I spent a fortune, a literal fortune, Danielle, on ingredients and it turned out to be the worst thing I’ve ever made.”
“Maybe it’s not,” I suggest. “Maybe it’s just not what you’re expecting.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m grieving.”
Laughing at her dramatics, I order a chocolate croissant and a cappuccino and then burrow down in my spot in the corner. Pulling out a notepad, I plan on making notes for work next week but instead finding myself sketching the tree line from the Farm.
“What’s that?” Pepper asks, sitting my items in front of me. “And why are you here now?”
“I’m waiting on Lincoln to get done at a meeting,” I tell her. “We had the best time in Savannah.”
“What was it like?”
“Perfect,” I gush. “His family is incredible, the property was breathtaking. Now I can’t stand to be home alone. It’s just too mundane compared to the Landry’s.”
“Don’t go comparing stuff,” Pepper warns. “That’s a dangerous game.”
“I know.” I lift my cappuccino and watch the foam swirl. “I need you to make me feel better about this.”
“About what?”
“About this thing with Landry.” Taking a hesitant sip, I feel a sting as the drink trickles down my throat. “Tell me this will end okay. Tell me I’m not foolish to try this. Tell me this isn’t Einstein’s definition of insanity.”
“Well, it is,” she laughs, “but . . .” She slides into the booth across from me. “Did you know I owned two eateries before the Smitten Kitten?”
“No.”
“I did. I had a little place in Nashville that was tucked next to a deli. Cute as hell, but terrible location. Then I had a little café here in Memphis that I couldn’t get off the ground.”
“I had no idea,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “How did you get here?”
She smiles, picking a chunk of my croissant off and popping it in her mouth.
“I’d closed shop three years before. I was working as a paralegal and had an appointment on this side of town when I saw this building up for sale.
I was so drawn to it. I could see myself in here, baking and decorating and cooking my life away. I was terrified to tell my husband.”
“Why?”
Pepper looks at me like I’m crazy. “Because I’d failed at this game twice!
How could I expect him to want to take the chance on me a third time?
It was insane, even to me,” she sighs. “It was all I could think about. All I dreamed about. I could see the menus in my head and smell the coffee roasting. Eventually my husband got to the bottom of my little daydreams and told me to go for it.”
My jaw drops. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” she smiles. “Well, not just like that. He told me to learn from my past experiences and to go into this one smarter. And I had to give him an epic blowjob. Look at me now!” Her hands extend from her sides, motioning to the café.
After a few long minutes, she drops them.
“That’s what you need to do, Danielle. Learn from your past experiences and go into this one smarter.
Maybe Lincoln Landry will be your Smitten Kitten.
Or maybe you’ll be his,” she giggles. “Either way.”
“How’d you get so smart?” I can’t deny her words do soothe me, make me feel a little less frantic about this new situation.
“It’s genetic. Now I need to go make another batch of cupcakes for a party this evening I’m catering.”
“I need to go too,” I say, gathering my things. “I think I’m going to head to Lincoln’s.”
The words make me giddy, the thought of seeing him makes me happier than I could imagine I could be.
“Have fun,” Pepper winks before scurrying into the kitchen.
Oh, I fully intend to.