Crazy for Loving You: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(100)

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—”

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.