Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,69

sliding across the series of glossy 8 x 10 photos. Although I only saw his father a few times, there was no question that it was him. Landon was a spitting image. The same jaw line, the same strong nose, the same intense dark eyes. The photos were in chronological order, starting with a tiny baby bundled so tightly you could only see his face and two tiny fists. Next, images of his father on a rocking horse, then on a playground. A few more and he was sixteen, leaning on an old Chevy truck, something built in the fifties.

“You look just like him,” I said, before I could think. I fought the urge to cringe. There’s no way Landon wanted to hear that he looked like his father. It was an insult to be related to him, let alone look like him.

Landon was silent next to me, studying the photos. I wanted to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, but I knew better than to ask. Any answer he could give wouldn’t be good.

I wandered down he table, pausing when I came to a photo of his parents together, holding a baby Landon.

His father beamed from ear to ear, one arm around his wife and one holding Landon, swaddled in a baby blue blanket.

“You were cute as a baby,” I said, grinning over my shoulder at him. “Its so weird. I can’t imagine what happened.”

His expression softened, the slightest of smiles playing at his lips, and I knew I’d taken the right path. He didn’t want to talk about his father. Didn’t want to reminisce about the man’s life. “I might’ve been cute, but I was a holy terror even then. My mom swears I climbed out of my crib before I was eight months old.”

I studied the photo. He was adorable, with a full head of hair and a quirk to his lips. “What happened to the cowlick?”

“Tamed into submission,” he said, glancing up as if he could see it. I knew it was the truth—that every corner of Landon’s life had been tamed into submission, forced into obeying, into fitting the course he’d plotted.

A big part of me wished I could see him as a child, when his hair ran wild. Before the world had broken him and he’d rebuilt himself, into the strong, dominant man he’d become.

“What a shame. It’s cute,” I said, staring at the baby in the photo.

“Ugh, I Think I’m going to barf,” Mat said, interrupting us.

Landon actually laughed then. Laughed. Whatever ice that had taken hold of him this morning seemed to have thawed. He almost seemed… happy to be here.

His Mom walked up, and he moved to hug her. Her eyes were a little red, but her greying hair was pulled back in a simple but elegant bun. I felt awkward, standing beside him. I’d grown up with him, yet hardly knew her. Hardly knew if it was appropriate to hug her and tell her I was sorry for her loss… or if I should act like an acquaintance, a friend of a friend who would shake her hand and offer empty condolences. “How are you doing?” she asked. Affection laced her tone, and I knew she cared. Hoped for a real answer, and not the one I knew he’d give.

“I’m good,” he said. “You remember Matt and Taryn, right?”

“How could I not?” she said, smiling at me. “You were in junior high the last time I saw you.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” I said, and then cringed.

“For what?” she asked.

“Not my finest stage of life,” I said, trying to laugh. “Let me guess. Did I have side-flippy thing going on with my bangs? Maybe some fashionably torn jeans?”

To her credit, his mother only smiled. “You were always beautiful,” she said.

“Yeah, that was such a good look,” Matt said, laughing. “I think you had a von dutch hat.”

“Shut up, I did not.”

“You so did. You’re in denial.”

I was grinning, even though that was the last thing I’d expected from today.

“And you?” His mom said, pointedly staring at Matt. “I seem to remember some Ed Hardy.”

I burst out laughing. She may have been in her sixties, but she hadn’t forgotten a thing.

Matt turned red, but didn’t reply.

“What are you up to these days?” She asked him.

“Work, mostly. How’s the garden?”

She beamed then, and I was envious of Matt for knowing the perfect thing to say. When times were good, Landon was always coming over with baskets of peas or ears of