“Soybeans, I think,” Ford adds. “Either way, get going or you won’t make it far by nightfall.”
I walk with Sienna to her car. It’s loaded down with all the stuff she didn’t want to send with the moving truck. Troy and Nate helped get the final few things loaded while Sienna, Joy, and I made a last trip through her house earlier this morning.
Dom watches me from the porch of The Farm. He’s talking to Barrett and Huxley about fishing, something I didn’t know he knew about. He gives me a sweet smile as I say goodbye to my sister.
Things have been good between us the last few weeks. We’re taking it slow, one day at a time, but it feels like we’ve already been together forever . . . it’s just different now.
There’s no second guessing, no worries about outside influences. The only thing I have to worry about is my mom getting all flustered when Dom’s around. She thinks he’s the cutest thing she didn’t birth since my father.
Joy finishes her goodbye with Sienna and she and Nate take off, leaving our family to have a few moments alone. Mom and Dad go over the last-minute instructions about not talking to strangers, no picking up hitch hikers, and keeping your doors locked.
“It’s not like she hasn’t done this before,” Ford tells Mom. “Let her get out of here.”
Mom dabs at her face with a handkerchief. “I hate to see you leave, sweetheart, but I know you have to do what you have to do.”
“I’ll come back. You know that,” Sienna promises.
“Here’s a few bucks,” Dad says, handing her a wad of cash.
“I have a credit card.”
“And she knows how to use it,” Graham sighs. He pulls her in for a hug. “I’m heading into the house. Good luck to you. Call if you need anything.”
“I will, G,” she says, kissing his cheek. “Congrats on the engagement. You should elope to Vegas. I’ll be your attendant.”
“No Vegas weddings in this family,” Mom interjects. “Goodness. Are you trying to kill me?”
Graham laughs, joining Barrett and Dom on the porch. Ford says his goodbye, followed by Lincoln. Before I know it, it’s just me and Sienna.
“Once I get settled, we’ll make plans to meet up. I heard the boys in Illinois are super cute. You can be my wing girl.”
“Dom’s totally not going to go for that,” I laugh. “But I’m all about coming to see you.”
She looks at Dom and gives him a little wave. “He’s good for you. I’m proud of you for fighting for what you want.”
We hug again. I feel Dom’s palm rest on the small of my back as I give my sister a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll miss you,” I tell her. “Be careful. Call me a lot.”
“I’ll miss you too. And call me and keep me posted on everyone. And don’t let Graham elope without me. And I want to know any murmurings of baby names from Alison or Ellie. And try to work in Jane, since it’s both of our middle names.”
Laughing, I watch her get in her car. “I love you, Sienna.”
“Love you back, Cam.”
“Bye, everyone!” She starts the car and rolls down the window. “If you want a vacation, come see me!”
I lean against Dominic as we watch my twin sister speed off, honking the horn just before she’s out of sight.
“How do you feel?” Dom asks me, knowing I’ve worried about this for weeks.
“A part of me feels like crying. But a bigger part of me knows she’s just off for another adventure.” I look at him and smile. “She’ll be back.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we’re Landry’s. We always come home.”
Read more about the Landry family:
Sway (Barrett)
Swing (Lincoln)
Switch (Graham)
Swear (Ford)
Swink (Camilla)
Sienna Landry will kick-off a brand new series,
The Gibson Boys.
Keep reading for a chapter of Sway
and a taste of my standalone novel,
The Exception, both available now.
Alison
“THIS IS A SINGLE GIRL’S paradise.”
“No,” I grimace, blotting the spilled cheese sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical island with a hot cabana boy at my beck and call . . . and an endless supply of mojitos.”
Lola laughs, the sound barely heard over the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting instructions, event planners panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy endeavor.
I step to the side to allow Isaac, a fellow server and Lola’s gorgeous friend with benefits, to scamper to the ballroom a few feet away. He’s tall with a head full of dark curls and a laugh that makes you involuntarily smile. Lola is crazy for keeping him at arm’s length, but that’s how she operates. He has little money; she has limited interest.
“Cabana boys may have hot bodies and virility, Alison, but they lack two very important qualities: fame and fortune.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you’d take a limp dick over a hard one? Interesting,” I say, rolling my eyes and tossing the sauce-soaked rag into the linen bin.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid cock. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all and I wouldn’t care.”
“If that’s the case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “there are tons of opportunities out there to not get fucked.”
I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s not kidding.
Lola and I are a lot alike. We both come from meager backgrounds and Luxor Foods is our second job. There’s no doubt we both would rather not be here because serving rich bitches can be a very humbling experience. But they are also the best parties to work because they tip. Very well. Of course it’s so they can feel above us most times, but we’ll take it. It’s money in our pockets, and if they get off on it in the process, good for them.
That being said, Lo took this job to afford her manicures, pedicures, and eyelash extensions. I do it to take care of my son, Huxley. Lola’s first job is working at a salon and her career goals include marrying up in the world. I, on the other hand, work at Hillary’s House restaurant during the day and go to school for journalism in hopes to one day write pieces that might inspire someone.
“Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes aglow, “did you see Mayor Landry?”
“I love how you segued into that,” I laugh.
“It’s a linear comparison. Tell me that fucking isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think of him, and I’ll call you a liar.”
Of course it’s the truth. It’s the first thing that comes to mind . . . and maybe the second and third too.
Thoughts of the recently crowned Most Eligible Bachelor make me a swoony mess. Barrett Landry’s thick, sandy brown hair that always looks perfectly coiffed, his broad, friendly smile that makes you feel like you could tell him your darkest secrets without judgment, his tanned skin, tight body, wide shoulders—the list goes on. But it all leads, as Lo so candidly pointed out, to thoughts of him stripped down and wearing only his charismatic grin.