Crazy for Loving You

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Crazy for Loving You Page 30

by Grant, Pippa


  Miami drivers are insane today, but I have precious cargo, so we take our time, which only makes my heart pump faster and the doubts and fears whisper louder. I distract myself by talking to Remy, who’s strapped in tight. He coos in response, and fuck, I love that kid.

  He’s a lot of work. But he smiles when I walk in the door. The way he pumps his legs when he’s hungry—so fucking adorable. He’s getting better at holding his head up. And rocking him to sleep every night puts me more at peace than I’ve been in forever.

  Except for that little hole in my heart where Daisy still belongs.

  Once we get across the causeway, I turn the radio on to try to calm my nerves, but instead, the first thing I hear is two deejays talking about an anonymous donor who arranged catering for a full early Thanksgiving feast at all the Coast Guard stations around Miami.

  Dessert included.

  Of course.

  I reach the Bluewater gate, and the guard holds up a hand. My heart stops in time with my truck.

  “You got that baby?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say slowly.

  He peeks in the back, and a grin as wide as the sea spreads over his face. “Miss that little fella. He’s getting big. You should come by more often.”

  He waves me through, and I head into Daisy’s enclave. There are people playing tennis near the condo buildings. The Wealthy Widows are sipping something on the tropical miniature golf course’s clubhouse patio. Frank the parrot flies by overhead, and I can only imagine what’s coming out of his little beak.

  The shops in the village are busy but not crowded, with a few putting out early Christmas lights, and people wave as we drive by.

  It’s so Daisy.

  Happy and a little wild, but also full of heart.

  We pull down her long, empty driveway, and I wonder if I’ve gotten the wrong intel. If she’s not actually home. I know she quit her job. I know Imogen Carter’s on the verge of being overthrown at her own company by her board, and that Daisy’s being begged to go back. Even temporarily to oversee a smooth transition. And I’ve been led to believe that despite telling her yacht captain to take the boat to sea to make it look like she’s left town, she’s actually home.

  I’ve barely parked before Alessandro steps out the door.

  “You call first?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  He grins. “Knew I liked you. She’s at the dick pool. How’s the little slugger?”

  Remy smiles and waves from his carrier.

  “Good to hear it, my man.” Alessandro boops his nose. “You keep growing, and don’t let Aunt Daisy pull any bullshirt, you hear me?”

  Well over a month ago, I walked this same path around Daisy’s house to her pool. But I don’t feel anything like that dude expecting to find out that my brother set me up for a party.

  I snort softly to myself.

  Feels like a lifetime ago.

  Voices carry down the path as I approach the pool, and one in particular stands out.

  Loud. Boisterous. Happy.

  Am I wrong?

  Does she not need me?

  “Yes! I want to pay for everyone’s pizza all night at all six of your locations. And can I have ten of those delivered to an address in Oak Park?”

  My heart starts pumping again.

  More than pumping.

  It’s throbbing and glowing and telling my nuts to come out of hiding.

  Oak Park.

  I haven’t heard of an Oak Park neighborhood in Miami, but my parents live in Oak Park in Chicago.

  “Shouldn’t you at least make sure they’re home before you order them pizza?” another female voice says. Emily, I think.

  “That would take half the fun out of it. Hush,” Luna replies with a laugh.

  “Just how good is Chicago pizza? Do I need to fuel up the jet?” Cam asks.

  My heart stutters to a stop, and my eyes burn.

  She is.

  She’s ordering pizza for my family. And all of Chicago. Expanding her random acts of kindness around the world.

  Remy coos loudly, and all the voices stop as we peek around the corner of the path and step out into the pool area.

  All four of Miami’s strongest, smartest, hottest billionaires turn and look at us.

  Cam reacts first. She leaps up. “Yep. I need to get that jet ready.”

  Emily next. “I could go for pizza.”

  “Is it vegan?” Luna pretends to be confused when Cameron and Emily grab her and head toward the souped-up, aerodynamic golf cart around the side of the pool house, but she winks at me before they load up and take off.

  Daisy’s staring at me like she can’t decide if she wants to throw her phone at me, or hang up and jump me.

  “Tiana?”

  Her assistant darts out of the pool house. “Got your credit card. I’ll take care of it. Whoops, have to go see what Alessandro wants.”

  Daisy’s eyes are blue today.

  And her hair’s brown.

  And she’s wearing a sparkly top that reminds me of my nieces’ favorite pillows, with the sequins that flip one way to reveal a different picture or a sassy saying, and I wonder what Daisy’s shirt would say if I flipped her sequins.

  Undoubtedly something very Daisy.

  Fuck, I’ve missed her.

  Her eyes dart from mine to Remy’s carrier, going shiny as she sits there, just staring from her lounge chair at the edge of the pool.

  “I—” I start.

  She leaps to her feet. “Oh my god, is he sick? Does he need a kidney transplant?”

  “What?”

  Her eyes snap to mine, and all the laughter and smiles of a minute ago have faded behind fear. Regret. Shame.

  I take two steps, but she holds out a hand to stop me. “I…didn’t expect you.”

  “I know. We just—”

  “I’m not ready,” she whispers.

  My heart stops. Again. “Remy’s safe,” I tell her. “Anthony Roderick’s in custody. And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t—I made sure he’s never coming near us again.”

  Her eyes go shiny. “Thank you.”

  “Officially, I have no idea what you’re thanking me for,” I add. Awkwardly. Naturally, because here we are, building up to our next first date.

  I hope.

  Her lips wobble like she’s torn between laughing and crying. “Officially noted. But I’m still not ready. I haven’t finished—” she sucks in a big breath and looks away “—working on me.”

  “Daisy, you’re fucking perfect just the way you are. You don’t have to—”

  “I still love you,” she blurts. “Shit. Shirt. Wait. Hold on. I have a speech.”

  “Daisy—”

  “I was supposed to come to you. When I finally deserved you. I was an idiot, and I was afraid to love you. And I was afraid if I let you any closer, you’d see what a useless mess of a human I am. But I’m working on it. I’m figuring out who I’m supposed to be, and what I’m supposed to do, so that I can deserve you without relying on you to be the best part of me. I want to be as good as you are. I want to deserve to have you love me back. And you need to know that I don’t love you because you’re easy to love, even though you are, and I don’t love you because you were here and convenient, and I don’t love you because you’re super hot when you’re holding a baby, even though, again, you are, and I don’t love you because I want Remy back, even though I—oh my god, I miss him. I can’t even look at him in case he disappears again. But I love you because you’re you. And you made me believe in me. And I let you down, and—”

  “I forgive you.” Three of the most inadequate words I’ve ever said in my life.

  But her face crinkles, half-smile, half-tears, and she whispers, “Really? Because I have this huge romantic gesture planned. With a marching band. And Mardi Gras beads. And fries from Beach Burgers, because I love their burgers, but their fries are really where it’s at. And I also trained all the cats to do the wave, because—”

&nb
sp; I set Remy’s carrier on the ground and close the space between us. “Stop. You’re fucking perfect just the way you are, whether you’re done working on you or not. We’re all works in progress. All of us. But you—god, Daisy, you’re everything that’s right in the world. This heart? That doesn’t need improvement.”

  “This heart missed you.” She looks down, pink staining her cheeks.

  I tilt her chin up. “I don’t need grand gestures, but if they make you happy, I’ll sit here with you while you finish planning it all.”

  Her smile’s starting to peek through. “And you weren’t supposed to hear me ordering pizza. Why are you here?”

  “For you.”

  “For real for me, or because you think I secretly hid some of Remy’s baby stuff in my closet so I could sniff it? Not that I’d…okay. Yes. I kept some of his little onesies. But in my defense, he was going to outgrow them anyway in another few months.”

  “Daisy.”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you too.”

  “Still?” She blinks rapidly, and her chin wobbles.

  I brush an errant tear from her cheek. “Probably. Do you still have that mechanical unicorn?”

  “Yes.”

  I pretend to wince. “Oh. Then I might have to rethink—”

  She shrieks and leaps at me, and I catch her, twirling as she attacks me with kisses to my chin, my jaw, my cheeks, and my nose while she chews me out. “You—awful—terrible—mean—wonderful—amazing—perfect—unpredictable—everything—man.”

  She’s what I’ve been missing in life.

  The fun.

  But also her pure heart.

  I squeeze her back as hard as I can without popping her lungs. She’s so fucking right in my arms, and I’ve missed her more than I ever thought I could miss anything in my life. Holding her again is like holding the sun. “I missed you so much,” I breathe into her hair.

  She laughs, but it’s a half-sob. “Telling you to go was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I wanted—I wanted you and Remy to be safe.”

  “I know, Daisy. I know.”

  “Remy!” she suddenly shrieks.

  I set her on the ground, and she dives for the baby carrier. “Oh my god, he tripled in size. He’s sucking his thumb. Were his eyes always that shade of brown, or did they get darker? Who dressed him? These little turkey pajamas are adorable.”

  She has him out of his carrier and pressed to her shoulder, squeezing, her cheek on his hair while he gives me a look that clearly says now you’ve done it, and I’m never going to have a moment’s peace again.

  I smile at the little guy. He’s changing so much every day, getting more and more aware of the world, and I’m only mildly terrified of the mischief I can already see brewing deep inside him.

  The next eighteen years are going to be a special, perfect kind of fun.

  “Oh my god, he smells so good.” She sniffs him, strokes his silky hair, lifts him and holds his gaze while her eyes start to leak again. “Remington Nathaniel Roderick, are you actually here?”

  “He’s here,” I assure her as he squeals and kicks his legs.

  “And you’re safe?”

  “He’s safe.”

  “He can hold his head up.”

  “Little bit, yeah.”

  I slip my arms around both of them, and she leans into me, cradling Remy close again. “I need more arms to hold both of you.”

  “I got you.”

  “Forever?”

  It’s a whispered plea that makes my heart both swell and ache. She should know how much she deserves to be loved forever, and I’m going to spend every last minute of my life making sure she knows it. “Forever,” I agree huskily.

  “I love you so much.”

  “I love you more.”

  She laughs, finally, that gloriously happy sound that gives my heart wings, and she lifts her eyes to mine. Sparkling, twinkling blue seas shine at me. “So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?”

  I shrug. “Just want you to know what you’re up against here.” My own smile is making my cheeks hurt.

  This isn’t the family I pictured for myself. Or the kind of settling down I thought I’d do.

  But Daisy and Remy—and whatever comes next—are everything I ever wanted, and so much more.

  She sucks in a sudden breath and straightens. “West—I did something else,” she whispers.

  I lift a brow and smile, though her own face is pinching again. “Knowing you, you did several somethings.”

  “I…found Nina and Baxter.”

  My lips part.

  All the air leaves me.

  Is it possible to be so incredibly happy with the woman I have, while still missing a part of my past?

  “Actually, Baxter found me,” she rushes on. “After all the media coverage—he recognized you—and he—they—they want to know if you’re up for flying into South Carolina for coffee sometime.”

  Fuck.

  Just fuck.

  “They do?” My voice cracks, and I don’t care.

  This.

  Here.

  My Daisy.

  Our son. By choice.

  And the family I thought I lost.

  She nods, and her smile goes watery again. “I told them I’d let them know as soon as we could get there. Also, since they’re technically underage, I talked to Sierra, and she approved everything. So, maybe tonight?”

  “I fucking adore you,” I tell her. “Thank you. Just—thank you.”

  “Love is meant to be shared,” she says. “And you deserve all of it.”

  She goes up on tiptoe to claim my lips, and I realize I have one more thing left that I haven’t given her yet.

  “You remember the night we met?”

  “I love the night we met.”

  “I never did finish that striptease for you.”

  A spark of intrigue lights her blue eyes. “You’re right. You didn’t.”

  I nod toward the pool house.

  She kisses me again.

  And I know we’re going to have the wildest, most unexpected, biggest-hearted, best next forever in the history of forevers.

  Epilogue

  Daisy

  When West asked me where I wanted to get married, I suggested at the bottom of the ball pit.

  The crazy man agreed that squeezing all of our friends and family into the balls was a brilliant idea, and I realized I actually had finally fully met my match.

  I blinked first, which amused the hell out of him. I didn’t know the man could laugh that hard, but he did, and it was so hot that every pair of my panties burned up in the resulting lust fire.

  Or so I told him.

  Also, I like going commando. And he likes it too. I have this strange suspicion that Remy won’t be an only child for long.

  I’m daydreaming about our honeymoon as I prop an elbow on the bar at Mordecai’s, where our party has taken up almost the entire bistro for Drag Queen Brunch the day after Christmas, waiting for a bartender so I can ask for a special drink just for my surprise groom, when someone bumps into me from behind.

  “Oh! So sorry,” she says.

  I look behind me, about to tell her it’s not a problem, when I realize it’s the unicorn author.

  I know celebrities. And rock stars. And sports stars. And politicians. I can talk to any of them.

  But I’m suddenly completely starstruck as I meet her gaze.

  “I lost my keys,” she says, gesturing to her overflowing purse. “I had to have them to get here, but now I can’t find them anywhere, and I already lost a set at home once, so I…sorry. You didn’t need to know that.”

  “You do you,” I tell her. “Just don’t ever stop writing. You’re not leaving, are you?”

  “No! I left my notebook in my car, and—are you here with the single dad? He should really be on the cover of a book. So hot. Good for you!”

  “He should,” I agree. I reach into my purse and pull out a card. “Drop me a
note. We’ll see what we can arrange.”

  She bites her lip, then grins and nods. “Thanks.”

  Excitement bubbles over in my veins even as I realize West is going to kill me.

  And then I’ll apologize and do a striptease and seduce him until he can’t remember what I did this time, and I’ll make sure I’m the first one up with Remy the next morning, and he’ll forgive me.

  Actually, he’ll forgive me even if I don’t do all that.

  Turns out, he likes having fun. It’s been missing from his life for too long, with all the military time and being the oldest for so long before that. But the man is lucky enough to be stuck with me forever.

  Almost, anyway.

  I order him a strawberry daiquiri, tell the bartender to put everyone’s drinks on my tab today, and head back to my usual table with my besties.

  It’s much tighter with Derek, Jude, Beck, and West squeezed in with us, but I like squeezes.

  And Remy loves being passed from aunt to uncle and all around.

  West’s parents, sisters, their families, and even Tyler are here with us this morning, though at the closest tables instead of on top of us. So is my mom. Alessandro and Tiana, naturally. Baxter and Nina, who we call West’s first kids, and who are both really fucking amazing young adults. And my grandmother, who’s decided to retire and take up groveling for a hobby.

  It seems she’s finally realized that her funeral would look a lot like Julienne’s if she didn’t start showing her human side.

  Plus, I have this suspicion that West might’ve gone to visit her during those ten years we were apart.

  I mean, ten days. But it felt like ten years.

  I haven’t asked. He hasn’t offered. But my grandmother definitely has some respect for him that wasn’t there before, and he’s more tolerant of her when she’s annoying than he was before.

  “Is this for me to drink, or for me to accidentally spill all over your dress?” he asks me when the bartender arrives with his pink froufrou drink.

  “It’s just a reminder of how far we’ve come,” I tell him with a grin. “In case you miss the Strawberry Daiquiri suite too much.”

  He laughs and kisses me. “Some days, I think I’m crazy for loving you.”

  “But it’s the best kind of crazy.”

 

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