Page 19 of Finding Lord Landry

“I’d send my grandmother a Birkin bag so she could show it off to all her friends.”

“No you would not,” I said with a bark of laughter. “You would never spend that much on a bag you know she’d never use.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “No. You’re right. But maybe I’d send her a good knockoff so she could still brag about her rich grandson.”

“She already brags about you,” I said without thinking. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced and prayed he wouldn’t read into it.

“And how would you know that?”

Fuck.

“I’ve met her, remember?”

“Landry, you met her for five minutes when I brought her by the office once to show her where I work.”

“I, ah… I…” The truth was I’d flown down to Florida on my way to London. At Christmastime in Majestic, Kenji had said he was ready to let his grandmother set him up with a nice man, and I’d be damned if I’d let her choose anyone other than me. I’d made a beeline for the Vista Bonita Active Seniors Community in Boca Raton, Florida, to plead my case. It had been a good visit—Kenji’s grandmother was nearly as quick-witted and sharp-tongued as her grandson, and spending a few hours with her had temporarily dulled the worst of my craving for the man—but the results of my efforts remained unclear.

“Don’t all grandmothers brag about their successful, handsome grandsons?” I said vaguely.

“Did yours ever brag about you?”

I thought back to my memories of my paternal grandmother. My mom’s mother had passed on when I was too young to remember her. But my grandmother on the Davencourt side had been a warm, loving type, even if she’d been a bit formal in public. “Yes, actually,” I said. “She once told the…” I stopped myself from sayingQueen. “Lady in charge of our community that I had perfected the art of folding a napkin into a blooming lotus. The woman was very impressed. I, on the other hand, wanted to die of embarrassment.”

Hearing his chuckle released some of the tension in my shoulders. “I can just picture you now, all skinny and knock-kneed, folding napkins for your grandmother like a good lad.”

“I wasn’t always skinny,” I corrected. “And in that story, I was fifteen,” I joked.

The rich, dark sound of his laughter floated down the line. His voice still sounded warm when he asked, “How’s your dad? And don’t pretend everything’s fine. You wouldn’t be there comfort-snuggling the cat if it was.”

I grimaced at this reminder of how much I’d kept from him—not just my title but my father’s health, too. It had been easier to pretend I was off on an unidentified jaunt somewhere for fun than to explain I was visiting home because it meant fewer questions about my family, about where I was from. In reality, I visited my father quite a bit. I just… didn’t exactly tell Kenji and the rest of the Brotherhood about it.

Cora’s words from earlier hit me in the solar plexus.Kenjican’ttruly love you when you haven’t let him truly know you.

I glanced across my bedroom to the intricately carved wardrobe, mentally traveling along every familiar divot and swirl in the design. It was an exercise I’d done a million times before, sometimes out of boredom and sometimes just to distract my mind from other things.

“He, ah…” I sucked in a breath. “He has Alzheimer’s, Kenji.”

The silence lasted several beats. “I’m so sorry. Is it a recent diagnosis?”

I clenched my jaw. “No.”

The single-word answer was like the blade of a guillotine, cutting off any intimacy we’d created. I knew it was hypocritical to expect him to give me a chance at a real relationship when there was so much I was hiding from him.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Not necessary. You’re entitled to keep your private life to yourself.”

I could hear the stiff formality in his voice, the tone that he took when he wasn’t sure of his role among the Brotherhood. When he returned to the comfort of his distant role where emotions played no part in his relationships.

“I don’t want to keep my…” I stopped when I realized that was exactly what I was doing, what I’d always done. “I don’t keep my private life to myself because I don’t trust you, Kenji. I hope you know that.”

“I don’t know that. What other reason would there be?”

Because I don’t want you to look at me differently.

Because I’d rather have the scraps of a relationship than lose you entirely.

---