Page 32 of Deal Breaker
Landyn is wearing a black dress that hugs her body and falls just above the knee, simple but devastating. The neckline dips just enough to make me forget how to breathe. Her hair is pulled half up, soft waves brushing her shoulders, catching the light when she moves. It’s not overdone—nothing about her ever is. But somehow, she still looks like the most dangerous thing in the room.
Her eyes sweep the restaurant until they land on me. I don’t move. Don’t blink. Don’t breathe. And for a second, I think she might turn around and walk out. But she doesn’t. She crosses the room with purpose, every step pulling a string tighter in my chest.
When she reaches the table, I stand automatically, dragging a hand over my jaw like it’ll help me keep it together.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey,” I echo, my voice low, rougher than I mean it to be.
I pull out her chair and she gives me a look—surprised, a little wary—but she takes a seat without saying anything. I sit down across from her and for a heartbeat, it’s just the two of us and the sound of the ocean outside the open windows.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” I say quietly, sitting back down.
“I almost didn’t,” she answers, placing her purse on the chair next to her.
“But you did.”
She lifts one shoulder, her lips pressing together. “Yeah. I did.”
And just like that, something shifts. Not forgiven. Not forgotten. But something.
The waitress appears, breaking the moment. We both glance away like we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t. Landyn orders a glass of wine. I ask for another whiskey, neat. Once she’s gone, silence settles over the table again. Not the uneasy kind. This one feels like… waiting.
“You look beautiful,” I say, trying to keep it casual, but the words land heavier than I intended them to.
Her mouth tips into a cautious smile. “You clean up okay yourself, Mr. CEO.”
“I’m in a black button-down shirt, Landyn. That’s me trying.”
She huffs a laugh, and the sound untangles something tight in my chest. “Well, you wear it like you don’t care, so it works.”
“That’s the goal.”
She traces the rim of her water glass with one fingertip, her gaze moving to the view of the ocean outside the window.
“You always liked this place,” I say.
“I did. You used to bring me here when you wanted to bribe me after an argument.”
My brow lifts. “Not this time.”
She glances sideways at me. “No?”
“No,” I say, quieter now. “This is just me wanting to see you.”
She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t look away either.
“You’re different now,” she says finally. “You’re…steadier.”
I shrug. “Maybe. Cove taught me how to stay still. And how not to blow things up when they get hard.”
She nods slowly. “That’s a good thing to learn.”
Her wine arrives. She lifts the glass, takes a slow sip, then sets it down carefully. There’s so much I want to ask her. Why she really came back. Why she left. What happened in the years between. But I know better. Instead, I lean back in my chair and say, “Thank you for coming with me to the site.”
Her gaze flicks to mine. “You really only take your brothers there?”
“You’ve been talking to Marco and Becca.”
