Read Online Chasing Castles (Finding Focus #2) by Jiffy Kate - Free Book Online
Authors: Jiffy Kate
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about the night we had sex’ is not a message you leave with a stranger or with anyone at all.
This is probably why I haven’t heard from Deacon. I don’t think he’d ever call me to talk about it or write me a letter. He’s more of a face-to-face talker. I know that about him, but it doesn’t make the disappointment any less painful.
I should be feeling relieved that this weekend is Sam and Annie Landry’s 25th wedding anniversary because it means that Deacon will be home. He’ll be forced to talk to me, but I realize there’s a chance it might not go like I hope.
Part of me wants to forget all about it and go on like nothing happened. It wants to spare my feelings and embarrassment. But the other part of me wants to slap its counterpart and say “what the hell are you talking about? Of course, you’re going to talk to him.”
Before anything happened between us, back when we were just Cami and Deacon—good friends, confidants, quasi-family—I promised myself that if anything ever happened between us, I wouldn’t let it get in the way of our friendship. So, I’m holding myself to that.
“You ready?” my dad asks from the doorway of my bedroom.
I glance back at him through my mirror, and the smile on my face grows.
“Daddy, you look so handsome.”
The blush on his cheeks makes him look younger, and it makes his blue eyes shine, so much like Tucker. Well, I guess it’s the other way around. I’m so used to seeing my dad in overalls or work clothes, and his skin is usually dusty from the fields. This clean-cut guy in the nice button-down shirt is a rare sight, but welcome, all the same.
“I can’t pay you for those compliments,” he says, his eyes bouncing down to the floor and back up to me. A sly, crooked smile that doesn’t make an appearance often enough takes center stage.
He’s so handsome, and I’m not just saying that because I’m his daughter. He’s a looker.
I remember when I was little, right after my mama died, there were several women who were interested in my dad. Ada Dupuis was one of them. She had major hots for my dad. She was always trying to sit beside us at mass, and she’d make extra food and bring it by the house. After a while, he finally had to tell her that he wasn’t interested . . . that he might never be interested. And that was the end of the that.
“You shouldn’t waste this,” I say, motioning to his shirt and boots. “I better see you dancin’ with someone tonight.”
“What do you know about this?” he asks, looking down at himself and then smiling up at me.
“Enough.” I smile back and kiss his cheek.
He shakes his head. “You’re growing up on me.”
I give him a sad smile and shrug my shoulders. “That’s life, right?”
“You know, Cam, I probably don’t tell you this enough, but I’m really proud of the beautiful young woman you’re becomin’. It’s like you grew up overnight.”
I don’t know where this is coming from, but his sweet words make my eyes tear up. He hugs me to him, and I squeeze a little tighter than I normally would. Thinking about the day that Tucker and I are both out of the house and my dad is on his own always makes me feel sad.
“Aren’t we going to a party?” my dad asks, pulling away and squeezing my shoulders.
“Yes,” I laugh lightly, sniffling up the tears that were trying to leak out of my eyes.
“Well, let’s go party,” he says, taking my hand.
We walk to the Landry’s, enjoying the early fall breeze. When we make it to their property, the sound of people and music fill the night air. As we round the corner, I can see that the patio is full of people, and there are tiny lights hanging from the house to the trees, creating a canopy of white. There’s also a large pit with a pig cooking over to one side. No, make that two pigs because you can’t have a party this big and only have one pig. And there’s a live band on the other side of the yard with a dance floor that takes up space
This is probably why I haven’t heard from Deacon. I don’t think he’d ever call me to talk about it or write me a letter. He’s more of a face-to-face talker. I know that about him, but it doesn’t make the disappointment any less painful.
I should be feeling relieved that this weekend is Sam and Annie Landry’s 25th wedding anniversary because it means that Deacon will be home. He’ll be forced to talk to me, but I realize there’s a chance it might not go like I hope.
Part of me wants to forget all about it and go on like nothing happened. It wants to spare my feelings and embarrassment. But the other part of me wants to slap its counterpart and say “what the hell are you talking about? Of course, you’re going to talk to him.”
Before anything happened between us, back when we were just Cami and Deacon—good friends, confidants, quasi-family—I promised myself that if anything ever happened between us, I wouldn’t let it get in the way of our friendship. So, I’m holding myself to that.
“You ready?” my dad asks from the doorway of my bedroom.
I glance back at him through my mirror, and the smile on my face grows.
“Daddy, you look so handsome.”
The blush on his cheeks makes him look younger, and it makes his blue eyes shine, so much like Tucker. Well, I guess it’s the other way around. I’m so used to seeing my dad in overalls or work clothes, and his skin is usually dusty from the fields. This clean-cut guy in the nice button-down shirt is a rare sight, but welcome, all the same.
“I can’t pay you for those compliments,” he says, his eyes bouncing down to the floor and back up to me. A sly, crooked smile that doesn’t make an appearance often enough takes center stage.
He’s so handsome, and I’m not just saying that because I’m his daughter. He’s a looker.
I remember when I was little, right after my mama died, there were several women who were interested in my dad. Ada Dupuis was one of them. She had major hots for my dad. She was always trying to sit beside us at mass, and she’d make extra food and bring it by the house. After a while, he finally had to tell her that he wasn’t interested . . . that he might never be interested. And that was the end of the that.
“You shouldn’t waste this,” I say, motioning to his shirt and boots. “I better see you dancin’ with someone tonight.”
“What do you know about this?” he asks, looking down at himself and then smiling up at me.
“Enough.” I smile back and kiss his cheek.
He shakes his head. “You’re growing up on me.”
I give him a sad smile and shrug my shoulders. “That’s life, right?”
“You know, Cam, I probably don’t tell you this enough, but I’m really proud of the beautiful young woman you’re becomin’. It’s like you grew up overnight.”
I don’t know where this is coming from, but his sweet words make my eyes tear up. He hugs me to him, and I squeeze a little tighter than I normally would. Thinking about the day that Tucker and I are both out of the house and my dad is on his own always makes me feel sad.
“Aren’t we going to a party?” my dad asks, pulling away and squeezing my shoulders.
“Yes,” I laugh lightly, sniffling up the tears that were trying to leak out of my eyes.
“Well, let’s go party,” he says, taking my hand.
We walk to the Landry’s, enjoying the early fall breeze. When we make it to their property, the sound of people and music fill the night air. As we round the corner, I can see that the patio is full of people, and there are tiny lights hanging from the house to the trees, creating a canopy of white. There’s also a large pit with a pig cooking over to one side. No, make that two pigs because you can’t have a party this big and only have one pig. And there’s a live band on the other side of the yard with a dance floor that takes up space
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