Cocktales

She comes toward me, her eyes never leaving mine. “Hello, Mr. Landry,” she says softly, her arm going around my waist. A simple kiss is pressed to the top of Ryan’s head. “How’d things go with your dad?”

“Really fucking weird,” I whisper. “I’ll tell you all about it later. We have things to do now.”

She pulls away. “Like what?”

“Like get the hell out of here.”

Her arms extend for Ryan, but I don’t let go. This makes her giggle. “Camilla isn’t even here yet, Linc. We can’t leave.”

“Yes, we can. It isn’t my fault she and Dominic can’t get out of bed long enough to come to dinner.”

“You’re just jealous,” she chides.

“Damn right I am. I want to be home in bed with you.”

She leans closer so that her head is resting on my chest beside Ryan’s and whispers, “What’s this all about?”

“What’s what all about?”

“You wanting to leave. You love it here with your family.”

“Our family,” I correct, not missing a moment to drive home the point that this is hers. Everything of mine is hers. That was why there was no prenup, no talk of splitting shit in the hypothetical event of our marriage coming to an end. If that happened, I’d be done. She could have it.

Her hands lock around my waist, her sweet perfume washing over me. “Our family,” she repeats.

My fingers find the hem of her shirt and scoot beneath the soft fabric. My palm lays flat against the small of her back, the warmth of her skin heating mine.

As I glance across the room, my gaze finds my dad’s. He’s watching us. Public displays of affection aren’t his favorite thing in the world, and I brace myself for his reaction. He surprises me by smiling. With a gentle nod, he turns back to my brothers.

“What are you thinking?” Dani asks.

That this is the way life is supposed to be. That I wouldn’t change a damn thing. That I love you more every day and wouldn’t be able to breathe without you.

Ford’s hand thumps the back of my head as he walks by.

That Ford isn’t getting shit from Dad’s estate if he isn’t careful.

“Oh, just that I’d like to be buried balls-deep inside you right now,” I whisper into her ear.

She shifts from foot to foot, her breasts rubbing against my stomach. “Landry . . .”

“You were so hot this morning when I left,” I tell her.

“I was in sweatpants and one of your old T-shirts cleaning up baby vomit. I’m sure that was so hot.”

She looks at the floor, remnants of our recent conversations about her low self-esteem working their way through. I’ve tried to listen, to understand it, but when all I see when I look at her is complete fucking perfection, I can’t understand. How can having a baby make her feel less pretty? Less desirable? If only she knew what she does to me.

“Look at me,” I say, tipping her chin so she’s doing just that. “What if I told you I’ve been half hard all day from seeing you like that? That I’ve rushed every damn meeting I’ve had and then irritated my brothers so they’d stop golfing and I could see you sooner.”

Her cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink. “I’d think you were lying.”

“I’ve thought about you all day,” I murmur. “And when I’m thinking of you, I’m not thinking of you in a dress or heels or fancy lingerie. I’m thinking of you with your hair all bundled on top of your head and wearing one of my old concert shirts.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” I say, bending and touching my lips to hers. Her mouth is soft, smooth, and inviting, which is all I really want—to be wanted and accepted by this woman. “I also think,” I whisper against her lips, “of those big, round breasts and the way your ass bounces on my cock.”

“Stop.” She lets out a soft giggle.

“And the way your skin feels against mine when I’m touching you in every way fucking possible.” I kiss her again. “No more T-shirts when we’re together. I can’t do it anymore.”

“But Linc . . .”

“Those stretch marks you hate? I love.” I bend closer, seeing as deep into her eyes as I can. “I love them.”

“How can you?” she asks, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Because they’re proof of how much you love me. That you carried my son. That you’d do that to yourself to give this to me,” I tell her, glancing down at Ryan. “No more T-shirts, Dani. No more lights off and hiding yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous, babe.”

Tears dot her eyes as she buries her face against my chest.

“I’m hard again,” I groan.

Her hand moves down my abs and over the bulge in my pants. “Okay, I agree. It’s fifteen after six. I say Cam’s had enough time to get here.”

“Atta girl,” I chuckle. “You get the diaper bag and do your good-byes fast. I’ll give Mom a kiss, Graham some hell, and we’ll be off.”

“Linc?”

I stop in my tracks. The look she’s giving me almost has me getting off right here. “Yeah?”

She pulls me close, lifting up on her toes. Her breath hot against my ear as she says, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making me feel pretty.”

“You have no idea how pretty I’m going to make you feel when we get home,” I whisper back. “Now, get the diaper bag and go to the car so I can strip you naked and—”

Her giggle is soft as she smacks my behind. “Behave.”

Graham is watching us from the other side of the room, Mallory at his side. He smirks. “I’m guessing our conversation will have to wait until tomorrow.”

“You’d guess right. I have more . . . pressing . . . things to do. I’ll be by your office first thing.”

“I’ll be expecting you around ten.” He nods.

“Must be nice,” Barrett chimes in. “Getting up on Linc Time.”

“I get up way before then,” I say, making my way toward the door. “I just don’t do anything with any of you before then.” Pausing at the threshold, I look back at Barrett. “Wanna meet me at seven at the park for a run?”

“I’ll meet you,” Ford laughs. “Seven, you say?”

“Oh, fuck you. No way in Hell I’m running with you.”

My brothers laugh as I give everyone a final wave and blow Mom a kiss. Danielle is right behind me. We step onto the porch, but she stops as soon as the door is shut behind us.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, searching her face.

“Nothing.” She brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “I just . . . I love you, Landry.” She works the blanket up around Ryan’s face. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yes, I do. Now let’s get out of here so I can prove it.”

Her laugh trails behind her as she heads to the car. As I watch her go, I can’t help but think Dad is right.

It isn’t about how many women you ring up or how many stats you tally at work. It isn’t about how good you look or what kind of car you drive or the people that associate your name with the word “valuable.”

It’s about eating takeout on the couch with a girl in sweatpants. It’s about being in a relationship where you know she isn’t going to watch your show without you. It’s about making babies and cleaning up vomit and going grocery shopping on a Friday night instead of heading to the bar.

Dani opens the car door and bends forward, retrieving a pacifier from the floorboard. “I’ve been looking for this for a week,” she says, taking Ryan from my arms. She buckles him in and kisses his forehead before turning back to me. “You ready?”

“The questions is: are you?”

She looks back at Ryan and then to me. “I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

She puts her arms around me, her lips curling at the corners. “I mean it.”

“Okay,” I say, kissing the tip of her nose.

“I know Ryan’s still little and my emotions have been a little all over the place, but I kind of want to have another baby. Soon. I mean, not today but within the next year or so—”

My blood turns so hot I think I might pass out. “If you don’t get in that car, woman . . .”

“Is that a yes?” Her question is dripping with sweetness.

“As if that’s a real question. I . . . fuck it.” Moving before she can sense it, I lift her up. Her legs go around my waist as I press her against the passenger’s door of the car. My lips find hers, my tongue sliding between them.