Chasing Castles (Finding Focus #2) Page 22

  Cami sighs and leans against the door. Mrs. Johnson, the lady who watches the babies, walks over and smiles. “You want me to get him for you?” she asks.

  “No,” Cami says softly, not wanting to disrupt his play time. “I just needed to see him.”

  “He’s such a good baby,” Mrs. Johnson says.

  “Thanks,” Cami says. “I think so too.”

  I kiss the side of Cami’s head and get a knowing look from Mrs. Johnson, to which I just smile like this is the most normal thing on the planet.

  And it is.

  Loving Cami is like breathing. It’s necessary and life preserving and what I was made to do.

  As we walk in to find a seat, I grab Cami’s hand, and she looks up at me. I can tell her nerves are back, but I don’t care.

  I want to shout it from the rooftops, but since we’re in church and Father Damon has already started, I decide holding her hand will have to do for now.

  The second we’re seated, I feel a dozen set of eyes settle on us. Some of them are the people sitting on our pew, but the others are from a few rows ahead. My Mama, in particular, is looking at us with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile. She reminds me of a rubber-necker. One of those jackasses who can’t drive past an accident without holding up traffic.

  Just to clarify, I’m not calling my Mama a jackass.

  I would never.

  But she’s still staring at us.

  I smile at her, and when she still doesn’t turn around, I take a page from her book and give her the universal hand gesture for “turn around and mind your own business.”

  She shakes her head and fights back a smile, but eventually turns back around. And I don’t miss when she leans in and whispers something to my dad. The next person to gawk at us is Micah, with a smirk and a squint of his eyes. If he were able to send me a subliminal message right now, it would be about fucking time, or I told you so.

  Cami’s hand is still firmly in mine, and she leaves it there, even through the kneeling and praying. When her head leans against my shoulder while we listen to Father Damon, I let myself wonder, for a split second, if this is what we’ll be doing in fifty years.

  I hope so.

  When the final prayer is finished, and the congregation begins to file out of the pews, Cami squeezes my hand and pulls me toward the back doors.

  “Do you think we can hold them off until lunch?” she asks in a hushed tone as I clear a path for us, smiling and excusing my way to the back of the church.

  “I don’t know, but we can try.”

  We make a beeline for the nursery and retrieve Carter. It isn’t until we’re standing outside the nursery that Cami realizes we’re at least going to have to talk to her dad because he and Kay have Carter’s car seat.

  “Why don’t you go on to the house and I’ll ride with them,” she says, holding Carter close and placing a million soft kisses on his little head.

  I lean in and get a few in for myself, loving the way he smells.

  He smiles at her, and I know he missed his mama as much as she missed him.

  “You sure?” I ask, worried about leaving her.

  “I’m sure,” she nods, giving me a smile.

  I glance around the corner and see my parents shaking hands with Father Damon. My window of escape is narrowing.

  “I’ll meet you at the house,” I tell her.

  As I turn to walk away, I feel her tug on my shirt.

  “Deke,” she says with a bit of urgency.

  Turning back around, I watch as she shifts Carter to her other hip and takes a step toward me.

  “Thank you for comin’ to my house in the pourin’ rain,” she says, her hand reaching out and pulling the front of my shirt to bring me closer.

  “Thank you for lettin’ me in,” I tell her, reaching up to hold her face and pull her lips to mine.

  Mrs. Johnson clearing her throat is what finally interrupts us and brings me back to reality.

  We’re going to the top of the short list for town gossip.

  During the five-minute drive to the house, all I could think about was Cami. Now that we’re all seated around the table, all I can think is telling everyone that Cami is mine, and they can all deal with it. But I’m trying to allow Cami to go at her own pace, so I’m doing my best to play it cool.

  “Well,” my Mama says, as she passes a bowl to my dad. “That was a lovely sermon today, don’t y’all think?”

  I know her. I know she’s worming her way toward the two elephants in the room.

  I feel Cami’s hand brush against my leg, and I give her a small smile.

  Maybe we should put everyone out of their misery and just spill the beans, but I’m having a little too much fun watching them squirm.

  Except Micah. He’s sitting on the opposite side of the table with that same damn smirk on his face. I’m tempted to kick him under the table. Such a smug bastard. Always thinking he knows everything.

  “It was a lovely sermon,” Kay chimes in, feeding Carter little bites of mashed potatoes. “Didn’t you think so, handsome?” Carter gives a wide grin and slaps his hands down in a pile of peas. Everyone laughs, including me, because anything the kid does is the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.

  “I liked the part where Father Damon was talkin’ about the truth settin’ you free,” Micah says, cramming half a roll in his trap.

  “I don’t remember that part,” Mama says, cocking her head in his direction.

  “Oh, yeah. He also said,” Micah pauses to finish his enormous bite of food. “It’s always good to admit when you’re wrong.”

  “Were we listenin’ to the same sermon?” Dad asks.

  I look at the opposite end of the table, and I see Tucker watching all of this, everyone. One second his eyes are on Micah and then me . . . and then Cami. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and if I’m nervous about anyone finding out about Cami and me, it’s him.

  I don’t want him to think I went behind his back or that I’m in this for anything less than forever.

  I know he loves her and wants what’s best for her.

  I want that too.

  “And you will know the truth,” Micah’s voice rings out like he’s the one giving the sermon. “And the truth will set you free!” He bangs a hand on the table for added emphasis.

  Everyone is staring at him when I feel Cami abruptly stand beside me.

  “Deacon and I are together,” she says, twisting her napkin between her fingers, nervously. “Like, together, together.” She pauses and looks down at me for reassurance, and I give it to her by taking one of her hands and kissing it lightly. “So, if you have anything to say.” She pauses and glares across the table at Micah. “Just say it. We’re all adults here.” When she says that last line, she looks down the table at her brother, but I look the other way at her dad. It just dawned on me that Clay might not like the idea of me being with his daughter . . . in the biblical sense.

  And now I’m nervous.

  Clay chuckles as he takes a bite of chicken.

  Kay sighs.

  My mama looks like she’s about to cry.

  Micah is happily eating.

  My dad looks . . . proud? Yeah, definitely proud. Like, the first time I rode a bike or the day I graduated from LSU. He smiles up at Cami and then back at me, giving me an approving wink.

  Tucker’s brows are furrowed and his mouth twists as he chews on the information he’s just been given. I’m sure the conversation with him isn’t over.

  Cami calmly sits back down, and I lean over to kiss her cheek.

  “Well said, babe.”

  “Oh, it’s babe now?” Micah asks, quirking an eyebrow over his chicken leg.

  “Shut up and eat your dinner,” Mama says, swatting his shoulder, which gives me a sense of satisfaction. It’s always warmed my heart to see Micah reprimanded, because, in my humble opinion, it didn’t happen enough when we were kids.

  And just like that, everyone goes back to normal.

  Ca
mille

  Present

  PLEASE FIT. PLEASE FIT. PLEASE fit.

  I suck in and wait for the zipper to be pulled. Holding my breath, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer. With the wedding in five days, I’m cutting it close. There’s no time to order another dress. It’s kind of crazy, waiting until the last minute like this, especially since I’ve wanted to marry Deacon my whole life.

  Well, that’s not entirely true.

  If you asked me when I was six who I was going to marry, I would’ve told you my daddy.

  If you asked me when I was eight who I was going to marry, I would’ve told you no one.

  Boys were gross.

  But, if you asked me when I was sixteen who I was going to marry, I would’ve told you Deacon Samuel Landry, or at least, I hoped . . . and prayed, and wished on every birthday candle and shooting star.

  However, if you asked me when I was twenty-two who I was going to marry, I would’ve told you no one. At that age, I felt like I’d completely messed up—my life, my career, my relationship with Deacon . . . and the baby I was carrying. There were days I couldn’t see more than an hour into the future. Everything felt so scary.

  From then, until now, so much has happened. It feels like two lifetimes, but also like it all happened yesterday.

  “There,” Annie says, securing the zipper at the top and snapping a button into place.

  I hear collective sighs behind me and then I turn, facing myself in the mirror in all my white satin and lace glory.

  Dani’s best friend, Piper, is with us today and she begins to frantically wave her hands in front of her face, letting out a deep breath. “I think I’m gonna cry.”

  “You’re so crazy,” Dani teases, nudging Piper with her elbow. “Weddings are happy, not sad. Save your tears for when someone dies.”

  I smile at their reflections in the mirror, catching Annie’s tearful expression.

  “Stop,” I whisper, my voice catching in my throat.

  “I’m sorry,” she sniffles, dabbing under her eyes. “I just . . . you know.”

  I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions in check. I do. I know. She’s thinking my mama would love to be here and that she’d be so proud. Annie’s told me that a lot lately, how proud my mama would be of the woman I’ve become and how proud she’d be of the mama I am.

  “Just wait until Deke sees you,” Dani gushes.

  Annie laughs and Piper hugs onto Dani’s arm, and I stand there, staring at myself. The bridal magazines always say you’ll just know when you’ve found the one—the guy, the dress. I knew the minute I put this dress on that it was what I wanted to walk down the aisle in . . . what I wanted to wear when I finally said I do to the love of my life.

  Camille

  One month earlier

  TONIGHT IS JUST YOUR AVERAGE Landry get together. There’s a DJ and a dance floor and lots of food. Micah and his girlfriend, Dani, just got back from New York yesterday, and Annie wanted to welcome Dani to Louisiana. So, here we are.

  But something about tonight has felt different.

  Earlier, Deacon seemed a little nervous, and now, I can’t find him anywhere.

  Then, his voice comes through the speakers and the dance floor parts like the Red Sea.

  “Cami,” Deacon says my name so sweetly, his dimples on full display and his blue-green eyes dancing in the pale light. “My sweet Cami.”

  With those four words, tears start to blur my vision, and I don’t even know why. I mean, I think I might know, but maybe I don’t. Maybe this is something that only happens in my dreams, and maybe I’m afraid to blink because this vision in front of me might disappear.

  “I have somethin’ I’d like to give you,” he says, nodding his head at Travis, the guy who helps Annie around the house with yard work. Travis walks up to me and hands me a small canvas. There’s paint on it, but it’s not a complete picture.

  Then, Kay walks up and hands me another piece.

  And then my daddy.

  Annie, Sam, Micah, Dani, and even Piper . . . they all walk up and hand me pieces of canvas until I have too many to hold. Eventually, I set them down at my feet and spread them out, noticing a pattern with the shapes and shading. So, I begin to piece them together on the wooden dance floor, forgetting all about the people surrounding me.

  Deacon stands quietly, watching me. Every once in a while, I glance up to see if he’s still there, but he is. Just like always. He’s still there, watching over me.

  I get to a point where I know what the canvases make, but I’m missing a piece. That’s when my brother kneels down and hands me the last one. It’s the part of a castle where the princess usually stands. The window that’s high up, where she can see the whole world, my favorite part.

  I sit there, staring at the complete picture. Those tears I was trying to hold back earlier are trickling down my cheeks, and it’s so quiet. The only sound is my occasional sniffle, but then I look up and see damp eyes all around me. So, maybe it’s not just my sniffles.

  Deacon kneels down in front of me, just on the other side of the painting and pulls out a black box, opening it up. His hand reaches across, showing it to me. It’s simple, perfect.

  “I know we’ve done things slowly,” he begins, looking at me in that way that makes me forget everything and everyone, drawing me into our own little world. “But I’ve loved you since I knew what it meant to love someone.”

  I hiccup, trying to keep from falling completely apart.

  “When I look into your eyes, I see everything—my past, my present, and my future. I see my best friend. I see the woman I want to wake up to every morning. And the one I want to kiss goodnight for the rest of my life. I still see the girl I fell so hard for so long ago, and the amazing woman she’s turned into.” He stops and laughs to himself. “I thought I loved the girl . . . and I did. But I didn’t realize how much more I would love the woman. And tomorrow, I’ll love you more than today.”

  I wipe at my face and sit back on my heels, letting out a deep breath.

  “I want to grow old with you. I want to be Carter’s dad. I want to have more babies.”

  And now I laugh, not because it’s funny, but because I want all of that too.

  “And I don’t want to spend one more day than I have to where you’re not Mrs. Deacon Landry. So, please, tell me you’ll marry me.”

  The smile that splits my face makes my cheeks hurt.

  The quiet gasps from around me pull me out of our bubble, and for the first time since he knelt down on one knee, I glance around. Everyone, my whole family—they’re all waiting with baited breath like they wonder what I’m going to say, and that makes me laugh again . . . hard. Because I don’t even have to think about it.

  I stand up and Deacon joins me, still holding out the ring. And as beautiful as it is, it’s not what I want.

  In one leap, I jump over the paintings at my feet and into Deacon’s embrace. My arms wrap tightly around his neck, and I kiss him so hard. His chest rumbles with a laugh, and I start kissing everywhere my lips can reach—his eyes, his cheeks, his nose.

  “Is that a yes?” someone from the crowd yells. Maybe my brother? Or my daddy?

  And I realize I haven’t answered him or accepted his ring.

  “Yes,” I finally say. “Every day of my life. Yes.”

  Deacon

  Present

  “CHEERS, MAN,” TUCKER SAYS AS he clicks his glass of bourbon with mine. “We all know that I could’ve kicked your ass multiple times over the last ten years or so for bein’ in love with my sister.”

  I nod my head in agreement. I don’t think for a second that he could kick my ass, but if he ever knew the dirty thoughts I had about Cami while we were growing up or, hell, the thoughts I had of her just this morning, he’d have reason to try.

  “But, now,” he continues, “I’m reserving the right to kick your ass if you ever upset her in any way in the future.”

  “Duly noted, brother,” I reply.
I wouldn’t expect anything less from Tucker.

  He hugs me before clapping me on the back. “I know you and Cami are perfect for each other but, seriously, break her heart and I’ll break you.”

  “Alright, alright. Damn, Tucker, I’m beginnin’ to wonder if this is your way of flirtin’ with me. You seem very preoccupied with my ass.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Landry. Finish your drink so you can finish getting dressed. The quicker you get hitched, the quicker I can score at your reception.”

  I finish my drink and hand the glass back to Tucker. Father Damon would be pissed to know Tucker brought booze into the church but, then again, he probably wouldn’t be too surprised.

  “Tucker, I bet you twenty dollars the only person you haven’t hooked up with at our reception, besides family members, is Old Lady Johnson.”

  “Challenge accepted. I always did love the way she played the organ at church.”

  “You are one sick fuck, man. Hand me my bow tie, would ya?”

  He tosses my tie, and I wrap it around my neck before slipping on my vest.

  “So, how’s your leg doin’?” he asks.

  “It’s good. The cut is still there, but the doctor says it’s healin’ well. The bruises are startin’ to fade, too. I had to get my pants tailored a little on the loose side, though, so the fabric wouldn’t get caught on the bandage.”

  “Aww, shit, man. I don’t want to hear that.” Tucker cringes before finishing his drink.

  The last step to me being dressed for the ceremony is putting my jacket on, but I won’t do that until it’s time to walk to the altar with Father Damon. Now, we just have to sit here until we’re told the ceremony is about to begin.

  After a few minutes, Micah walks in.

  “Hey, man, you nervous?” he asks.

  “Hell, no. I’m ready to get this show on the road and make Cami my wife. How much longer until the girls get here?”

  “Just a few more minutes, I think. Mama went over to make sure they were runnin’ on time.”