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I know Brooklyn likes ladybugs, so I made her room really sweet with them on the walls, a comforter, and a little stuffed one on her bed.
I noticed how Beau needs soothing colors and is drawn to sparkling lights. So, his room was painted a soft blue and colored bulbs hang from the ceiling.
Beckett likes fire trucks, often carrying around a plush one. His blue room with red touches is the kind of thing I’d have loved at his age.
For Blair, I had to think hard. She isn’t a little kid, but she’s not a teenager. She needs something soft and sweet yet not for a baby. Rosemary picked a fun design with a beach theme since I heard Blair say she likes the ocean.
However, tonight, the kids end up in a guest room with a king-sized bed. This is where I stick any club members who stay over. Now, the bed is full of blond children.
As Landry gets them situated, I don’t know how they’ll fit. I assume they’ll all squish together like a can of sausage links. Instead, Beau and Blair rest their little heads on the top end while Beckett and Brooklyn use pillows on the bottom end. I don’t know how they won’t kick each other all night, but this is apparently how they do it at their grandparents’ house.
“There are cameras around the room,” Landry explains to the kids and points at the spots where Woodrow set them up. “I’ll be able to check on you all night.”
“Where will you be?” Blair asks.
Landry looks at me, so I answer, “Right down the hall.”
I expect the kids to take forever to sleep.Wrong again.Beckett is out by the time Landry finishes tucking in Beau. Brooklyn sees her little brother sleeping and closes her eyes. After Rosemary retrieves his nightlight from his bedroom, Beau is quickly lulled to sleep by the swirling stars on the ceiling. Once Blair whispers something to her mother, she closes her eyes.
Just like that, I’m alone with the woman I’ve wanted since a Wednesday afternoon in late winter.
Landry shuffles after me as I walk to my bedroom. I’ve imagined this moment for so long, yet I worry now. Nothing’s gone to plan. What if I’m wrong about Landry like I was about Kati? Have I trusted another feckless bitch with no interest in my heart?
“This isn’t the mattress I had with my ex-wife,” I say when we enter my large bedroom with the wall of windows facing the woods. “I took that one out back and made a fucking bonfire.”
My harsh tone startles me more than Landry. She doesn’t look around the room. Never admires the view or seems impressed by the large bed. She only watches me.
“I haven’t had any women on this mattress,” I say, angry at her for not reacting. “I haven’t been with a woman since I saw you.”
“When was that?”
“Months ago. Early March,” I say, frowning at her.
Landry is so passive. I don’t like this side of her. With the kids, she’s animated. Right now, she stares blankly like I’m nothing.
“Why me?”
“It’s complicated.”
Nodding, Landry shuffles closer. Her hands reach for me, grazing my chest before lowering to my belt buckle.
I nearly slap them away before gaining control of myself. Removing her hands, I frown harder at Landry. She only stares unflinchingly. I can’t help rethinking everything I’ve planned and hoped for over the last few months.
“I don’t want that,” I tell her.
“You helped me.”
“So you’re doing me a favor by playing with my dick?”
Landry rubs her small bump and exhales in a deeply exhausted way. “I don’t know what you want.”
“I told you.”
“But that’s not something I can give you yet.”
“Because you can’t love me?”
“I don’t know you. You haven’t told me anything about you besides your name. Nomad’s a biker thing, right?”
