Crazy Love (24 page)

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I whispered, “I own a quarter of that gallery. Just consider it test product. I’m really glad it worked out. I imagine you can think of better ways to spend your Sundays.”

The glorious shade of pink that appeared on her cheeks at my innuendo made me smile.

“Daddy!” I turned away from Annie at the ear-splitting squeal just in time to witness a blonde head streak past the bar and slam full force into Trip’s legs. Unmistakable glee radiated from Maisie as Trip swung her in a circle, instantly transforming our casual gathering into a party. She clung to Trip as if she were afraid he’d cease to exist if she let go. I approached them slowly, wondering if my niece would recognize me after a whole year.

Her oversized blue eyes widened when she looked over Trip’s shoulder in my direction. “Uncle Sam! It’s your birthday! We brought you a cake! Mama said red velvet was your favorite!”

Unable to contain my joy, I knelt and opened my arms and she flung herself at me with such energy, I nearly fell onto my back on the concrete. “Maisie! You’re a monster! How did you grow so big?”

“I eat broccoli,” she replied, as if mine was the stupidest question in the history of the world.

“Well, that explains everything,” I replied dryly, and she nodded in agreement. I heard Annie giggle and couldn’t help giving her a sideways glance. I noticed that Jayse was holding the door open for Violet. She was carrying an obnoxiously large cake box that dwarfed her tiny frame. Annie began clearing empties from the closest end of the bar to make room for Violet’s contribution. Trip stepped forward and effortlessly relieved Violet of her cargo. The silent exchange that passed between them was loaded, but not with their usual post- break-up ugliness. Annie and I looked at each other simultaneously. Yep, I wasn’t imagining things.

“There’s the birthday boy. Ready for your spankin’?” Vi gave me a quick side hug. Her nearly platinum short hair popped against her red blouse. She’d clearly dressed to impress, and my brother couldn’t take his eyes off her. To me, it seemed like that was what she was going for, based on the various not-so-secretive glances in Trip’s direction.

“Promises, promises,” I quipped in return. “Glad you could make it.”

“Barely. I wasn’t sure the big man was gonna let me out of the kitchen once he heard whose party it was.” She frowned, taking Maisie by the hand. Her voice had more than a little bite to it, and I had no doubt that there was trouble in paradise.

“Hey there, Hot Stuff. Love the kicks.” Jayse pulled Violet away and I saw Annie peer unhappily at them as they bantered. I watched her slink away and busy herself behind the bar. Randall called her over to the far end of the bar and whispered something to her. Annabelle nodded emphatically in response. As Trip’s friends arrived, I mingled with my guests and made small talk with my frat bros and their ladies. The entire time, I kept tabs on Annabelle, who carried on a long conversation with both Randall and Patience. Their body language made it seem like they’d known each other for ages, and I was oddly pleased that my best friend hit it off so well with her.

Later, after we’d all gorged ourselves on low country fixings, Annabelle pulled open the cake box and started in with that wonderful laugh of hers. I whipped my head in Violet’s direction and saw her lips curled in a devilish smirk.

“What?” I approached the cake box like it might contain explosives or a cobra. As I drew near, I saw a white cake which a first glance seemed fairly unremarkable. It had a black punching bag with red boxing gloves on each side near the bottom. The positioning of the gloves gave it the distinct resemblance of male genitalia. Worse was the message Violet had the baker put on the cake. In red flourishy letters it read, “Keep beating your bag, Sam.” I shook my head. Soon everyone was gathered around the box laughing and posting pictures to Facebook via their phones.

“What’s so funny, Uncle Sam?”Maisie asked, genuinely perplexed.

“You Mama’s naughty, Mae,” I replied, biting back a smile.

“Yeah, she is,” she agreed and ran off toward Trip who was busy lighting twenty-five candles with his Scream Zippo. After the particularly showy ‘Happy Birthday’ greeting from Jayse, the group’s encore performance seemed to lack je ne c'est quoi. A bit overwhelmed by all the attention, I slipped away while Jayse and Maisie argued over who got the first piece and made my way up several flights of stairs to the fourth floor cupola. Sipping chardonnay, I gazed out at the South Channel and the impressive ocean view. An unexpected feeling of contentment consumed me, and for the first time since leaving Harvard, I was truly glad I’d come home. I heard someone on the stairs. Glancing over from my chair by the window, I noticed Annabelle approaching me with two bowls of cake and ice cream.

“Hey,” she greeted me, pausing at the top of the stairs as if asking if it was cool that she joined me. I patted the seat next to me and she plopped down on the sofa, handing me some napkins and a heaping bowl of sugary goodness. Seeing she’d presented me the piece with the words “your bag” on it, I rolled my eyes with a reluctant smile. She grinned in that saucy way she always did. After a few seconds of heated eye contact, we both lost our amused expressions. I realized in that instant that there was nothing funny about the way I felt about her. It seemed like the feeling might be mutual.

“So about the other night…” I began, but she adamantly shook her head, her thick mane spilling in sexy waves around her shoulders.

“That was obnoxious. I’m so embarrassed.” She blew out a loud breath and turned appalled eyes on me. “I have the shittiest timing. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.” I set my untouched bowl on the end table and turned sideways to face her. I saw a tiny bit of frosting on the corner of her lips, and I wanted to taste it. I scooted closer to her and dabbed that delicious mouth with a napkin. “Someone had to break the ice. But please understand-I was way too wasted to express myself coherently. That night was so messed up…no matter how you look at it. You and I…it was just too much too soon.”

She seemed to concentrate on the ocean, but I suspected she didn’t really see it. Her voice sounded distant when she finally spoke. “It’s probably for the best. There’s a lot about me you don’t know. When you said I had daddy issues, you were right. I have problems, Sam. I…”

“Can you just forget I ever said that? Please?” I sighed, running a hand over my hair. I hated that I’d shot my mouth off to her because I was a jealous little bitch.

“Only if you can forget I jumped you like a cat in heat,” she retorted, fervently studying her shoes.

“Well then…don’t forget it, ‘cause I sure as
hell
am not giving that memory up,” I shot back, causing her to meet my eyes again. To my surprise, she slowly unveiled a dazzling smile.

“I want a do-over. What do you say we just give this a try? Are you done pretending to be my brother’s girl yet? ‘Cause I may just have to out the two of you.” I reached out and entwined my calloused fingers with her perfect ones. She didn’t pull away; she just stared curiously down at our unified hands.

“I’d really like to, but have so much going on. School and…I have a fucked-up family,” she whispered. I noticed her hand tremble slightly under mine and squeezed it.

“Who doesn’t?” I put my arm around her and pulled her closer to me. If she was going to shoot me down, I wanted to feel her against me one more time.

She leaned her head on my shoulder, and the sensation of her warmth against me was so perfect that I had to close my eyes and savor it. “Point taken.”

“My life’s far from perfect, Annabelle. I’m pretty sure that won’t change anytime soon. And you should know right now that I’m bad at this. I’ve got almost no experience with relationships. But I’m willing to try.” She lifted her head off of my shoulder, and I saw her eyes were shiny and filled with fear.

“Your mother? She hates me.” She blinked at me with childlike innocence.

“That hardly makes you unusual.” I cracked a lopsided grin. Her lips twitched, and she chewed on her lip in a nervous manner.

“This whole thing scares me,” she admitted. I brushed her hair out of her eyes and leaned in for a soft kiss. Her soft lips were inviting…welcoming. She moaned quietly and melted into me. The feel of her body against mine was addictive. I pulled away before I got myself into serious trouble.

“Me, too.” My lips grazed her forehead.

“Hey, Sam! Quit making out with Annabelle and get your ass back down here! You have presents to open!” I heard Randall yell. Laughter drifted up the stairs to us, and with matching eye rolls, we pulled away from each other. Standing, I pulled her into my arms again. Her hands wrapped around my neck, and she pulled my mouth down to meet hers once more. Our tongues touched delicately as we explored each other with caution and fascination. I was in no hurry to go downstairs; it was going to be impossible for anyone to compete with the gifts she was already giving me.

After several more wet kisses, Sam groaned regretfully and held me at arm’s length. I wanted to whine and tell him to forget about his party, but instead, I let him lead me by the hand down the stairs. Everyone else had assembled in the living room, and a tide of knowing eyes washed over us. I felt Sam’s grip on my hand tighten. My eyes were drawn to his pitiful knuckles, which were beaten to shit. I squeezed back gently, and he didn’t flinch. I guess the abuse from pummeling other men in the face had conditioned them to handle worse. He pulled me toward a love seat which was conspicuously empty. In front of us, the coffee table contained a mountain of gifts. Maisie hovered near the presents as if she were about to dive in and rip each one open herself.

With enthusiasm that rivaled his niece’s, Sam proceeded to tear each gift free from its wrapper. Seeing him interact with Maisie was a heart squeeze. He was so good with her, acting as if he wasn’t strong enough to rip the wrapping paper and gushing about her muscles when she could. This sweet side of him was an unexpected surprise, and my face hurt from smiling.

There was no mistaking Sam’s love for the cuff links Trip bought, or the first edition of
The Sun Also Rises
that Violet had found for him. As the treasures began to pile up beside him, I got more and more nervous about my gift. After stopping by the gym to see Randall and pick his brain, I was pretty sure he’d like it, but most of Sam’s friends operated on a different playing field than I did.

Jayse and Dale, who’d been fighting about anything and everything for days, both seemed pleased with Sam’s reaction to their rare vinyl copy of a Frank Sinatra album they’d given him. They’d wanted to give him something musical, and Trip had recommended anything by the Rat Pack. As Sam or each gift-giver explained to the group what had prompted each selection, it was a bit of a crash course on the man I was so enamored with. He apparently had a love of old music, preferably on vinyl (‘nothing sounds quite like it’); fitness gear, like the wrist monitor Randall gave him to track his progress; books, especially classic novels; and ties. Now
that
was an intriguing bit of information…

We didn’t have everything in common, a state of affairs which was, in my opinion, ideal. It guaranteed we’d teach each other stuff…expose each other to new and interesting things. Startled, I realized I felt all of those “new crush” tingles, but an odd sense of peace accompanied them that I’d never experienced before. My nerves kicked in, and I realized I was building sandcastles in the clouds. I’d inserted Sam into the role of knight on a big white steed who’d ride in and save me from my ghettofabulous tower. I wouldn’t say I slammed on the imaginary brakes, but I was definitely pumping them. Sam seemed to smell the fresh doubt on me like I exuded it from my pores. Every time I started to fidget, whether he was looking at me at the moment or not, he reached out and touched me. He’d hold my hand or stroke my hair as if silently telling me to not think so much. I did my best to comply.

At one point, I noticed Violet eyeing me curiously. It made me curious about her past with Sam, but there was nothing possessive or territorial about her demeanor. She seemed pleased when he put his arm on the back of the couch behind me. In return, I was delighted that she was sitting next to Trip on the sofa. Maisie now settled on Trip’s other side, and they looked like a picture-perfect happy family. The only thing that marred the Norman Rockwell moment was the garish diamond on her left hand that was from another man.

As coincidence would have it, Sam’s last unopened package was from me. His almond shaped eyes found mine as he picked up the large, thin, rectangular present and his eyebrows knit curiously. Embarrassed, I fought hard not to show it in front of the room full of people watching our relationship sprout fresh from the soil. He slid his fingers along the seam, ripping open the shiny lavender paper that reminded me so much of the color of his eyes.

His mouth fell open slightly as he held up the framed fight poster signed by Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali in 1971. Randall jumped up and ran around the back of the loveseat, so he could admire it over his shoulder.