Page 65 of Forever Golden

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Page 65 of Forever Golden

That may have been the case at first, but my mood has definitely shifted. “Honestly? I’m kind of excited.”

He smiles and I quickly turn to stare out the window again, not wanting to miss anything when we turn into what Ithoughtwould be a driveway. However, I soon realize it’s more of a private road. There’s still no house in sight, just more of the big, towering trees that form a canopy over us as we creep along slowly.

Beside me, Scar’s just as intrigued as I am. She’s even stopped texting Shane for two seconds to gawk at how the rough foliage has gradually transitioned into well-maintained landscaping with high, wall-like shrubbery. Hidden within what almost looks like a maze, tall wrought iron lampposts are strategically placed throughout. I’m imagining how this must all look at night. Incredible, I bet.

A broad, black roof comes into view above the natural walls and that’s when I take in the breadth of what West said when he mentioned his grandfather having more than enough room for us all. From the looks of it, this place could function as a hotel if the family wanted. There it sits, a sprawling estate with a porch on both stories that appears to do a complete wrap-around. The impressive white columns are decorated with green garland and large red bows along the railing.

Our bus stops at the apex of the circular drive and I breathe deep.

“Welcome to the Bayou, everyone,” Sterling announces, smiling big as he stands from his seat. I nudge Scar with my knee, which gets her to smile a little.

West, still with his fingers laced between mine, leads me to the exit. He stretches as everyone else hops off, belting an easy laugh at another of Dane’s off-color jokes. I can’t help but stare up at him, convinced he seems lighter here. Honestly, allthreeof them do. Like not being bogged down by the usual Cypress Pointe bullshit suits them well.

“Here goes,” Joss sighs.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she’s more nervous about the impending introduction than I am. Maybe because she’s secretly just as concerned about what the family will think of her.

Maybe because… she’s more into Dane than she’ll ever admit?

Just a theory.

I smooth my hands down my ponytail and hope there aren’t dark circles under my eyes due to the lack of sleep.

“Stop worrying. You’re fucking beautiful,” comes a deep voice in my ear.

When I turn and meet West’s gaze, he’s checking me out hardcore, not bothering to hide it even when I catch him.

“Thanks, perv,” I say under my breath, which he interprets as an invitation to grope my ass while no one’s looking.

I don’t stop him, of course.

Unlike howI’mfeeling today, he looks sexy as ever, which is nothing new. His light-wash jeans are stylishly faded with distressed seams and spaced-out rips down each leg. It’s far warmer here than Cypress Pointe, but it’s far from hot. He’s got on a gray hoodie and white sneakers, topped off with a diamond in his ear that catches the sun just like the ones on his watch.

I guess this is how the rich dress down.

“Ready?” I turn to ask Scar, and she forces another smile when she nods.

I still feel horrible that she’s missing her last week with Shane, but it couldn’t be helped. Before last night, I had no idea he was leaving. If I’d known, I might have at least talked to West about arranging to head back home sooner than planned before he bought tickets.

Scar trudges toward the back where the driver’s handing off our luggage. She hikes her duffle bag up her shoulder then stands off to the side. I see she’s trying to be a good sport about this, but it’s hard. I get it.

Sterling must notice I’m concerned, because when I catch his gaze, he moves in on Scar and drapes his arm around her shoulder to lead her toward the porch. Something he says has her cracking up, like nothing was ever wrong. The triplets really do have this surrogate big brother thing down to a science, despite not having any practice before Scar came into their lives. She needs this, especially with Hunter not being around.

We trudge up the steps with all our bags and I take in the full scope of this massive house, recalling the word Dane used for it, the word on the sign at the end of the road—manor. It’s as grand as it is intimidating.

Very.

I’ve just made it up the last step when the massive double doors swing open, and we’re met by the smiling face of who I can only assume is West’s grandfather. He looks nothing like I expected. Mostly because my dumb-ass could only picture him as Colonel Sanders for some stupid reason. Who I see instead is a man I can tell was pleasantly handsome in his day, although I see none of West or his brothers’ looks mirrored in his. They’re spitting images of their father, but luckily inherited nothing else from that prick.

Mr. Landry is at eye level with West, which means he’s well over six feet, and his bald head appears to be a style choice, as opposed to nature’s doing. He’s fit for a man his age, which is easy to see with the nice button-down he’s wearing tucked neatly into his khaki slacks. Looking him over as he first takes in the sight of his boys, I note that the gray goatee is about the only thing Colonel Sanders-esque about him.

“Well, aren’t you three a sight for sore eyes,” he belts out with a smooth southern drawl. Dane’s already in this giant’s arms, enduring what looks like a painful bearhug.

“I missed you too, but my ribs just healed from last time,” Dane jokes.

“Aw, suck it up, boy,” Mr. Landry counters, shoving Dane aside to grab Sterling this time, squeezing him the same way.

Beside me, Scar grins behind her hand.




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