Love Me Crazy

by Camden Leigh

  “That would’ve changed the way you feel?”

  “I could’ve avoided you. Left as soon as my time was done. I could’ve poured all my energies into my work instead of you. I could’ve assured your mother we weren’t a thing. You could’ve stayed on your side of the line and I could’ve stayed on mine.”

  Her eyes reflect the lowering sun and turn an odd shade of honey. Can she really say she regrets what happened between us? “Lines were made to cross. People were made to be loved and I love you, Cassie. Why can’t you accept it without reservation? Like at the ball. You were ready to love me back. A child won’t change that.”

  “I did love you back, and see what I’ve become?”

  “What, Cassie?” I pull her around, locking both hands on either side of her face. I smooth my thumbs over her cheeks. I see nothing but the perfect person for me. I don’t see flaws. I don’t see a wreck. I see Cassie. My Cassie.

  “A stranger. I don’t recognize myself when I’m with you. I’ve lost sight of my goals. And I’ve done the math. We can’t be the one plus one equals one anymore. There’s someone else involved, now, and I won’t be a distraction.”

  “You’ve already resigned to failure without taking my feelings into consideration. This was never supposed to be one-sided.” I step back and shove my hands in my pockets. I glance at the wedding party lining up for introductions. “The thing is,” I say to her, eyes on the guy rolling our names off his tongue, “you think you can’t succeed when you’re with me, but you can’t fail when you’re with me either.”

  Chapter 30

  Cassidy

  The apparent pain in his heart pulls the corner of his mouth down. Damn if this doesn’t hurt my heart, too. His eyes search mine, begging for a chance to prove himself, but he has nothing to prove. I know he loves me. I know he wants me to stay. But this isn’t about what he wants anymore, and my presence clouds his judgement.

  “I need to bustle your sister’s dress. Excuse me.” I scurry behind the Gentleman’s Quarters and up the back deck steps to the screened porch.

  I force a long inhale and doubly force my exhale, trying to calm my shaking nerves. Trying to comfort my aching heart. On the way back to the plantation with Kat, I’d secretly hoped for one last glimpse of the man I love before riding away on my Greyhound Bus, but I got more than I’d hoped for.

  I expected a clean, crisp break. An amicable agreement resulting in a quick sever, instead, my heart feels like taffy left out in the sun, stretched thin as string because he’s got an impossibly secure grip on it and I’m trying to do the right thing and walk away.

  I shake my hands several times then grab the doorknob and enter into the kitchen. I move quickly through the house to the spare bedroom in the back that has been transformed into a fancy, comfortable boudoir for Ellie. Kat sits on one of the settees fanning her armpits and sipping iced tea through a straw. Their mom stands in front of the mirror, adjusting her dress.

  “Good gracious, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kat pops up and begins fanning my face.

  Heat returns, flooding my skin with the blush that drives Quinn wild. I pull my lips into a firm line, ready to be serious with my job since Mrs. Covington has suddenly taken interest in my presence. I prepare to fend off any questions, comments, or advice Kat and Ellie may have about me and Quinn.

  “You were stunning out there,” I say as I hug Ellie. “What a perfect night for your wedding. Congratulations, Ellie.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.” She takes my hands and swings them between us. “I’m so happy. We’re so happy.” She blinks the tears away in her eyes and smiles at her sister. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Come girls, there isn’t time for this.” Mrs. Covington paces around the crowded room. She collects a makeup brush and applies powder to dull the shine on Ellie’s forehead and nose. She dusts them fast and expertly, then adds a little extra to Ellie’s neck and chest. “It’s about time for introductions, move along Ms. Beck.”

  I gesture for Ellie to climb the pedestal and turn. I kneel down behind her and work the loops sewn in her train into their assigned spots. I fluff the billowing material until it hangs neat and discreet, hiding any clues that a train ever existed.

  “This dress is suffocating me,” Ellie says as she pats her stomach and fans her face.

  “You just need to eat and drink something. Ms. Beck, run and fetch some tea from the fridge. Don’t need our beautiful bride collapsing at her own party.” Mrs. Covington continues to preen and paw at Ellie’s face, hair, and dress.

  I dash down the hall, not wanting to be the reason anything alters Mrs. Covington’s rigid schedule. I grab two glasses from a stack brought in by the catering company and fill both with the cold tea. I gulp mine down, fill it a second time then take several slow sips. I smack my tongue against the roof of my mouth, not accustomed to the syrupy sweet aftertaste.

  “Hiding, Ms. Beck?” Mrs. Covington’s voice sends me scrambling to shut the fridge.

  “No, ma’am, just pouring myself a drink as well.” I grab the glass I’d poured for Ellie and move toward the hallway.

  “I assumed you’d left.” Her words make me pause.

  I tap my toe against the floor then turn, unable to find a reason to do the opposite and run. “I tried.”

  “I warned you not to befriend my children.” She clamps her hands together in front of her. “Quinn deserves happiness after all he’s endured with his father’s death, including a chance at a good life with his son and his son’s mother.”

  I slide my teeth back and forth against each other, focusing on the sound instead of her words.

  “Cassidy?” She demands my attention. “Annabeth is a bucket of drama, but you come with your own drama. I’m not sure you’re for him, regardless of what happens next.”

  “I don’t need this right now.” I hold up the glass, reminding her I’m in the midst of delivering the drink she’d requested I fetch for her daughter.

  “I had full intentions of writing a letter to your dean, telling him of your indiscretions.”

  My heart chokes my soul. I close my eyes. I’m so stupid for letting a guy get in the way. Why did I have to fall for my boss’s son of all people?

  “But you’re good at what you do. I underestimated your talent. You have a rare gift for translating ideas to paper quickly, an asset for clients without artistic eyes. Plus, your bookkeeping skills exceed our accountant’s. I’m willing to give you Atlanta, Savannah, or even Nashville.” She lets out a long sigh. “As a top-level events coordinator, you’d receive your own team and I’ll put you up for a month. I’m offering you a hefty salary plus fifty-five percent commission.”

  I release the breath in a whistle. Fifty-five percent? That’s, shit, that beats her normal rate of twenty-five. Uncertainty clings to my insides, holding me away from the party hats and streamers.

  “Why?”

  “Quincy came back because I’d threatened to sell his father’s truck, but he stayed because of you.”

  “And this is your thanks?” Atlanta and movie star benefits, Savannah with its old money or Nashville, the country music capital of the universe. She’s talking high six figure checks. “You want me to stay out of the picture.”

  “I won’t deny my reasons are twofold. My company would be in excellent hands with you, but true, I don’t want you here.” She points at the floor. “Quinn needs to be with his family. He needs the familiar as he creates a new life with Annabeth and their son.”

  “I understand that, but—”

  “You know, I’m really tired of people making decisions that concern me without conversing with me first.” Quinn’s voice makes my voice box clamp tight and my hands shake. He walks past, brushing against me as he squeezes into the small kitchen.

  His overwhelming presence makes my chin bobble and tears sting my eyes with the desire to fall.

  “You need to stop meddling in my business. Stick to your clients if you need som
eone to control, and for the love of God, stop trying to bribe the woman I love to leave me.” He steps toward his mom, hiding my view of her face. “Do you even care how I feel about any of this? You haven’t even bothered to ask me what I want. What I need. What I goddamn feel after finding out I have a kid. Just like you never asked how any of us felt about losing Dad. You never asked. You never cared. You sat lifeless in your room playing Percy Sledge on repeat and didn’t bother to make sure your own kids were okay. I know Dad died. I know that was hard for you. But did you ever stop to think it might be hard for us, too?”

  I hear a gasp behind me and the swoosh of Ellie’s dress. Kat and Ellie join the party in the kitchen, breathing over each of my shoulders. Quinn turns, eyes tracking from Ellie to Kat and ending on me. He steps toward me and takes the two drinks from my hands and sets them aside.

  His thumb, wet from the condensation on the glass, cools my cheek when he strokes it. He gives me a timid smile and then steps back, releasing his touch. And God, do I crave for it to return.

  Mrs. Covington clicks her tongue in dismay then purses her lips tight. She kneads her fingers with so much force, I’m sure she’ll break them like twigs. “This isn’t the place for this discussion, Quincy.”

  “Actually, this is as good of a place as any,” Quinn says. “This house, that room”—he points to his dad’s office—“the secrets.”

  I try to step back behind the girls, wanting to disappear, but Kat and then Ellie loop their arms around mine and squeeze me tight to their sides. I’m not sure if I’m holding them up right now, of if they’re holding me up, but it feels like the only reason we’re standing is because of each other. It’s the first time I’ve felt supported on all fronts and unafraid of the unknown before me. Even the unknown that stands over six feet tall and has a smile that brings me to my knees.

  “I think it’s time for the truth.” Quinn glances at Kat but drops his gaze quickly. “I really am sorry for leaving. I thought it would help everyone get back on their feet.”

  Tension moves through the Covingtons at a snail’s pace, dropping Kat’s gaze to the floor, pushing Ellie’s smile into a frown. Around the group it goes, touching each one until it stiffens Mrs. Covington.

  “I thought I’d . . . Dad—” Quinn bites his lip. Hard. “Dad’s death always felt like my fault. The reasons aren’t important but . . . it took me a while to realize that I did everything I could to save him. I tried. And failed. I had several reasons for leaving, but mainly I left to escape how guilty I felt for failing him and all of you. I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve done something more. Then he’d be here today, watching you get married and Kat heading off to college and . . . sorry.”

  His mom flips the white gloves she’s holding through the air like she’s swatting flies.

  Ellie reaches out and grabs Quinn’s arm. “Dad died for health reasons. That’s it. There was nothing you could’ve done to save him.”

  “I’m trying to believe that.” He nods. “But it was no excuse to completely abandon ship. I should’ve called or at least dropped in at Christmas. I should’ve—”

  “Quinn?” Kat interrupts. “Can we put that behind us? I mean . . . I’m willing to move on. I want to move on. I’m sorry I’ve been a grouch about it all, but I’m ready to try, you know, to start over.”

  He sighs and sweeps her into a huge hug. Tears fall from her eyes as she squeezes him tight in return. It’s a warmth I’ll never receive from my parents and my heart feels suddenly empty because of them, but fuller than it’s ever felt because of the family I’ve grown to love. I bite my lip, trying hard not to lose it with the rest of them.

  Quinn hands Kat the indigo handkerchief tucked in his vest pocket. “Dad taught us that family comes first. I lost sight of that, but I’m back now.”

  “And the rules haven’t changed. Family still comes first. Our well-being, first.” Mrs. Covington snaps her gloves through the air, one eyebrow hitched all the way to the moon. “Quincy, don’t forget your place in this family. You are the Covington heir. Taking care of your family might not have been your first priority then, but it should be your first priority now.”

  “And why is that, Mom? Care to elaborate for Kat and Ellie, and perhaps for me? Hiding something?”

  “Quincy! Not here.” Blood leaks from her complexion, leaving her shocked and clutching her stomach.

  “Then when? Going to keep it from them like you kept it from me?”

  Mrs. Covington’s nostrils flare. “You will wait until tomorrow.”

  “For what?” Kat asks.

  “Mom?” Quinn pushes.

  She laughs stiffly and dusts her dress, though I doubt there’s a dust particle stupid enough to land on it. “Never you mind, darling. We should enjoy the festivities.” She gestures toward the front room as the DJ’s voice booms through the speakers, asking for the bride and groom to take their places.

  “No. Last time we were left in the dark, someone in pale-blue scrubs and squeaky shoes broke the news about Dad.” Kat steps forward. “What don’t we know?”

  Ellie pulls Kat back. “There’s a reason why Annabeth isn’t here.”

  “What does she have to do with anything?”

  “She kept a secret from all of us. Most of all Quinn.”

  “What?” Kat shakes her head.

  “She moved to France to hide a pregnancy. She . . . had a boy.”

  “You have a kid?” Kat asks.

  “He does. It’s why Annabeth isn’t here. It’s why . . . God, I regret everything I’ve done to push you to talk to her. I’m so sorry, Quinn, I didn’t know. I found out yesterday.” Ellie’s eyes aren’t the only things filled with regret. Her entire body wilts like she’s let her brother down beyond measure. “I feel awful because I should’ve figured it out after I saw her in the park with him.”

  “You’ve seen him?” Quinn grabs her arm.

  She nods. “I thought she was babysitting. That’s what she told me. And she kept calling him her nephew and . . . it makes so much sense now, her strange excuses and her persistence to see you.” She looks up at her brother. “He has a dimple like yours. Adorable. Handsome.” She smiles. “Indigo eyes.”

  He steps back and presses his hand against his chest, right over his heart.

  “And you knew?” Kat glances at her mom and then Quinn. “Why didn’t you tell him?” she squeals. She steps up to Quinn, her eyes lit with excited fire. “You’re a dad, I’m an aunt. I can’t believe this!” She grabs Quinn’s arm. “Are you doing okay? Oh!” She turns to me and grabs my hand. “This is why you wanted to leave.” She shakes her head. Her joy turns red and her eyes pull into sharp angles. “I think I might just. . .” She lets go of our arms to punch her palm with an angry fist.

  “Chill, Kat,” Quinn says. “We’ve got time to figure this out, but Mom’s right. Ellie should probably head out before the guests think the entire family has fled.”

  Ellie nods. Kat jumps up and down, a little too excited, she rambles off several successive questions about the boy as they make their way out of the room. Mrs. Covington shuffles past me to join them.

  “Mom,” Quinn says, “in case you were wondering, I’m excited, I’m scared, I’m . . . freaking out. But I’ll be okay.” He looks at me then back to his mom. “We’ll all be okay.”

  His mom nods, turns, and follows the same path as her daughters. I can’t imagine what’s playing out in her mind. Her lack of emotion befuddles me because she’s got the world’s best family yet she’s either too scared to appear weak and show emotion or too self-absorbed to care.

  Quinn’s pacing catches my attention and the enormity of the situation lands my ass into a chair. I take the tea he sets down and gulp every last drop, needing the sugar more than anything because I feel as if I’ve swam an entire ocean stalked with emotional piranhas.

  “I have a kid,” Quinn whispers to himself. “He has dimples.”

  I rise, thread my hand under his, and give it a squeeze. “Just means
there’s more dimples for me to kiss.”

  He looks down at me and the terror on his face fades away. A smile forms and he nods slowly. “I don’t know his name.”

  “We’ll find out.”

  Quinn nods, eyes glazed as if he’s looking through a foggy window and visualizing his son for the first time. “You’ll go with me to meet him?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I mean . . . don’t you want your first time meeting him to be yours and his special time? Besides, I should probably pack.” It hurts to say it aloud. Packing means I’m really leaving. Quinn will stay here and nurture his relationship with his son, and I’ll be somewhere else.

  He shakes his head. “Ours. I want it to be our special time. Plus, I might like watching you kiss his dimples.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “Please?”

  I nod. “I can do that.”

  Sadness dulls Quinn’s eyes, but it’s so momentary, I could be confusing it with the way the shadows land on his face. He pulls me out onto the back porch and glances between the random pulses of firefly lights and me. “You’re leaving anyway, aren’t you?”

  “This isn’t my home.”

  “But you could stay.” An ache stretches across his forehead and wearies his eyes. “You could choose me.” His lips tighten and he shakes his head. “We can start our own business if you want to do events. I have connections and I know the best places for weddings. Secret gardens. Ruins dating back to the Civil War. And I’m one hell of a photographer.” He begs me to give in. “I can give you more.”

  “You have a lot to figure out, Quinn, and—”

  “What about painting? And ceramics? We could open a studio.”

  Risk nothing, lose nothing. Risk everything, win everything. Mom’s words bounce around my head. Risk. Is that what this is about?

  Quinn’s definitely worth the risk considering he’s someone who doesn’t give me the world, but gives me a boost so I can stand on top of it. Maybe I should risk everything.