Taste her.
For the first time all week, I’m home relatively early and I must see her. It’s taken every fiber of my being to go slow with this when what I want to do is take it as I feel. But I don’t, because with Alison, that won’t work . . . and that’s precisely why I like her.
Me: Can I see you tonight?
Alison: Hux just left to go with my mother.
Me: I can have Troy there in thirty minutes.
Alison: I can drive. LOL
Me: He’s on his way. Be ready.
Shooting a quick text to Troy, I jump in and out of the shower and am pacing the kitchen when the doorbell rings. I laugh at myself as I jog to the entrance and pull the door open.
Alison’s standing on the stoop, a twinge of nervousness in her smile. Her fingers fiddle with the strap of her purse. She’s dressed in a navy blue dress that hits at her knees.
“Come in,” I grin, holding the door open. She shuffles inside, and when I close the door and turn to face her, the entire feeling in my house changes. It’s warm and lively, the emptiness filled by her energy.
Her eyes are soft as she peers up at me. I close the distance and wrap her up in my arms.
“Hey,” she grins, tilting her chin.
“Hey,” I whisper, laying a kiss on her lips.
For the first time all day, I don’t give a fuck about Monroe or the Land Bill or what my father’s take on the situation is. None of it matters because right now, this is the treaty to end all the wars of the day.
“Did you have a good day?” she asks.
I shrug indifferently and her face drops.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Just another day in paradise,” I smile.
“You do like being mayor, right?” She searches my face. “I mean, you ran for office.”
I take her hand and pull her into the living room. “Yeah, of course. I’m the eldest Landry. I was trained for this my whole life.”
“That doesn’t mean you like it.”
We sit on the sofa and she surprises me again. She’s never been here before and she doesn’t bother to do a quick sweep of the place, to see what I have or what it looks like. She just looks at me—and not at my face or my body or my wallet.
At. Me.
I consider her statement. “No, I guess it doesn’t mean that. But I do.” Thinking back to when I first got into politics, my first year as a councilman, I realize how much things, how much I, have changed. “I’ve always enjoyed the process. I think now, I just enjoy it for different reasons.”
She tries to hide her smile, but it tugs at the corner of her lips. “Do I want to know what that means?”
Laughing, I pull her legs over my lap. “Maybe.”
“Maybe not,” she laughs too.
“At first it was a good way to have fun. Being a Landry alone brings a certain amount of . . . let’s say attention,” I wink. “But being in office gives you another dimension. Now, though, I feel like I can do something with that power. I’ve seen kids not have a safe place to play, families really skimping to get by. I can do certain things to help fix that now.”
“Which is why you’ll make a great governor.”
Her voice is careful, her words enunciated very crisply. I furrow my brow, but don’t have time to call her out on it before she speaks again.
“You’ll do all kinds of great things for the state.”
The Land Bill crosses my mind and my spirits begin to sink. It’s one huge thing I can possibly make happen, yet I know it’ll be a battle from every angle.
“Barrett? Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say and then look at her. Her eyes are filled with concern, not for the bill or for her agenda, but for me. “I’m more than okay.”
I pull her up and position her so she’s sitting on my lap. Her grin in infectious, her little peacock feather catching the light as it heaves with her rapid breath.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her throat. “Today was really shitty and getting your text made it turn around.”
“Getting beautiful flowers delivered today made mine. Thank you for thinking of me.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, her vanilla scent filling the air. If I could pause time, I’d do it right this minute and sit here looking at her face for the rest of my life.
“I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you at all,” I grin. “I have some pretty vivid imagery in my brain of you and—”
“Stop!” she says, her cheeks turning pink. “Don’t embarrass me.”
“Baby, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Her chin drops, her face still flushed, and her realness is almost unbelievable. I want to squirrel her away from the world, keep her protected and just for me in some little box. My little treasure.
“Huxley saw your flowers,” she says, her voice wavering a little.
I chew on my bottom lip, wondering if I fucked up. I didn’t think about her kid and I kick myself for that. “Was it a problem?”