Crazy Thing (The Brighton Family #5)

Chapter 38

38

ZIGGY

T he sky is an artist’s canvas, painted the warmest hues of orange and purple and red as the sun descends behind the mountains. Darius gives my thigh a squeeze as his car rolls onto the long driveway leading to his home. Tingles race up my leg, making me clench my core muscles.

Leaning my skull against the headrest, I look over at the handsome man behind the wheel. I feel a dopey smile on my face.

This is nice. I like it.

The beautiful sunset. The beautiful landscape. The beautiful billionaire chauffeuring me around town. I know I shouldn’t get used to this little routine but I sure am enjoying it right now.

Darius cuts the engine on his circular driveway. “Here we are, my passenger princess,” he says.

My attention swings back out the front windshield and I catch sight of my bus parked next to Darius’s expensive water fountain. I can’t help but giggle .

He angles his muscular shoulders to face me. “What’s funny?”

“As gorgeous as she is, Lady Tourmaline looks sort of out of place here at your lavish estate. Especially since you’ve made no secret of your distaste for her.” I crinkle my nose at him.

He peers over at my mobile home, evaluating her as if with fresh eyes. “I’ve had a change of heart.”

“Have you?” I question, surprised.

Darius takes my hand, brushing his lips along my knuckles. “Your school bus in my yard means that you’re close to me, and in my book, that’s always a win.” He offers an impish smile, his voice lowering with embarrassment. “Sorry I ever dissed your ride.”

On that, he leaves me there, swooning, and jumps out of the car. Then he’s at my door, holding it open. When he extends his hand to me, I grab onto it. With these wobbly knees, I need all the support I can get.

Once I’m on solid ground, Darius heads to the trunk and grabs the grocery bags. Then, he confidently leads the way to the massive double-door entrance to his massive house.

Instantly, I feel myself panicking. “Wait!” I call out after him.

He glances over his shoulder, a puzzled look on his handsome face.

“I’ll cook you dinner in my kitchen,” I announce.

Darius tilts his head. “Ziggy, I have an enormous modern kitchen that I never use.”

“I can imagine,” I say, getting visions of high-end stainless steel appliances and well-stocked pantries and expansive stone countertops. “But everything I need is at my place.”

“Everything like what?” he challenges .

“The herbs. The pans. The special utensils. The…everything,” I ramble. “Everything I need is at my place.”

“I’ll gladly carry your ‘everything’ over to my place.”

I throw another glance at his big, beautiful mansion. I take a step backward. “Darius, please…”

After a long pause, he exhales heavily. “Fine.” He pivots on his heel, turning in the direction of my mobile home.

“Thank you,” I say, my shoulders loosening with relief. I open the door to let him inside.

He stomps past me, grocery bags in hand. He’s displeased and he’s not afraid to let his displeasure be known. “What’s it like having me wrapped around your little finger, Fairy Girl? I bet you love it, don’t you?”

As he sets the bags on the counter, I come up beside him, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “Rather presumptuous of you, assuming that I sit around thinking about you being wrapped around my little finger.” I carefully hang my gorgeous new hat on a hook in my hat collection. “With the way my grumpy boss dominates my every waking hour, I don’t have the time to sit around thinking about boys.”

His open palm finds my butt, giving me a playful smack. “You’re a pain in the ass. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

Before long, Darius’s grumbling subsides. Then we’re dancing around each other in my tiny kitchen area, preparing dinner together. He grates the carrots while I dice the sweet potatoes. He rinses the salad greens while I sauté the onions. And when our chili is bubbling on the stovetop, he disappears out the door.

As I’m preparing a pitcher of bourbon lemonade, I glance out the window and catch sight of Darius arranging a bunch of large cushions and cozy blankets and battery-operated lanterns on the front lawn .

Moments later, I’m grinning broadly as I step outside with our large bowls of chili in hand.

Darius gallantly slips a pale purple flower from his garden behind my ear. He kisses the tip of my nose. My heart twirls.

“That smells great,” he says, taking the bowls from my hands.

We get comfortable on the grass under the starlight. As we talk and laugh and eat, the air is a tiny bit cool but I don’t mind. The fuzzy blankets and Darius’s adoring smile keep me warm.

He devours his food like a starving man. Then he turns his attention to me. “So why is it you won’t come inside my house?” he asks, taking a sip of his lemonade.

I snap a pita chip in two, dipping it into my chili and refusing to meet his gaze. “I never said that I won’t come inside your house.”

“True. But every time I invite you, you cook up some weak excuse to turn me down.”

I hesitate.

Darius drags a finger along my mouth, wiping up the drop of chili clinging to my bottom lip. He sucks his finger into his mouth and it’s the most sensual sight.

“I’d like very much to spend the night with you, without worrying that one of us is going to fall off the bed or that I’ll roll over and accidentally suffocate you in the middle of the night. And don’t get me started about the back pain I’ve had for the past few days.”

I push myself to laugh and force a joke. “Is that your way of asking for a back massage, mister?”

The gorgeous man shakes his head. “Lucky for me, I have an amazing chiropractor. But it feels sort of ridiculous that we’ve spent the last three nights sharing a tiny couch when I have seven huge bedrooms to choose from right across the yard.”

Darius is right and I hate it. I am being silly, sticking to my guns for the heck of it, making things between us more difficult than they need to be.

He inches closer, his voice dropping low. “Come on, Ziggy. I want to spread you out on my bed and finally fuck you the way I’ve been fantasizing about.”

A shiver runs through me. I get a flash of Darius and me, together in his bed, making each other feel good. Fuck.

I glance over my shoulder at the house. It looks unreal, beautifully lit up by the spotlights beaming against its regal facade.

“It’s just…I…” I try to craft a logical explanation.

But lying to him isn’t worth it. I decide to tell the truth.

“Your lifestyle reminds me of all the things I was running away from when I left my parents’ house. All the extravagance. The ‘bigness’. My parents are new money rich and they make sure everybody knows it. I never felt comfortable in their world.”

Darius glances at my bus with a raised eyebrow. “So, this is all some big rebellion against your parents?”

I swirl my spoon around in my bowl. “When you say it like that, it sounds silly.”

“It’s not silly. Your feelings are valid. But by not allowing yourself to fully enjoy this thing between us, you’re indirectly letting your parents control you.”

“Psht. I’m not letting anyone control me,” I protest, even as I start to examine whether or not there might be some merit to what he’s saying. “The day I left my parents’ house and began to carve out my own path is the day I took my power back. I can’t just ‘sell out’ now.”

Darius is quiet for a moment. “Taking your power back— truly taking your power back—means not giving anyone the ability to deprive you of doing whatever the hell makes you happy. Within the limits of the law, of course,” he’s careful to add and I laugh. “You don’t have to prove anything to them, Ziggy. Enjoying the perks my money allows doesn’t make you a sellout.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” I ask, worrying at my lower lip with my teeth. I’m trying to be better, to be more open with Darius, to stop holding back. But at times, the chasm between his world and mine feels impossible to bridge.

He scoots closer to me and brushes my hair back from my face. “I didn’t get rich so I could flaunt it for other people and show the whole world what a big shot I am. Wanting to be wealthy had nothing to do with my ego.”

At that statement, I hike an eyebrow questioningly.

“Okay, fine. That’s a pile of bullshit. It definitely had a little bit to do with my ego.” He grins. “But that wasn’t the main reason. I worked hard and built this life because I never wanted to see the people I care about struggling. I wanted to make sure that they’d always have everything they could ever need. And for the record—your name is now at the top of that list, Ziggy Beaumont. I care about you and I want us both to enjoy our time together.”

At his words, I actually whimper out loud.

His voice is so earnest. He’s making me see everything from a different angle, from a new perspective I’ve never considered before. He’s shining a light on my own judgments and hypocrisies in a way I never expected.

“Money isn’t inherently bad, Fairy Girl. And I’d like to think that I’m not an inherently bad man just because I have a lot of it.”

I set my bowl aside and cup his cheek. “I’ve come to realize that you’re the furthest thing from ‘bad’, Darius. You’re an incredible man. I’m in awe of you every day.” I place a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Look—do I want you to come over to my place? Yes. Absolutely. But I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you into things you don’t want to do.” He tucks a pink wave behind my ear. “You’re my fairy girl. I’d never try to clip your wings.”

I lean across the distance between us and nibble on his bottom lip. “And I’d never let you.”

He chuckles low. “Y’know what? I like that.”

The rest of dinner is mostly quiet. When we’re done eating, we carry the dirty dishes back to my place and together, we clean up the kitchen area in silence.

It’s late now and melancholia slips over the room when it’s clear that our evening together is coming to an end. Darius grabs my hips, slowly backing me up against the counter. He dips his head, stealing my lips in an exploring kiss.

His forehead rests against mine. “The meal was delicious. Thank you for cooking me dinner.”

“We cooked dinner together,” I correct him. “It was fun.” I hesitate before admitting, “I had an amazing time with you.”

“I always have an amazing time with you, Fairy Girl.”

“Thank you for the beautiful hat.” I kiss his stubbly cheek.

“Beautiful hat for a beautiful girl.” His honey eyes twinkle at me.

After another kiss, he releases me. I feel a pang in my chest when he doesn’t mention spending the night.

I watch as he exits the bus. Through the window, I see him gathering up the blankets and pillows laid out on the grass .

My heart twinges. This perfect spell is broken and it’s time to return to my regular life.

With a sigh, I turn and head into the bathroom. I take a quick shower, wearily contemplating my drive back to Honey Hill. Traveling forty-five minutes is the last thing I want to do right now, but I can’t stay parked in Darius’s front yard forever.

I turn off the water and get dressed in a comfy pair of leggings and a baggy tie-dye T-shirt. I’m securing my hair in a messy bun as I step out into the main area of the bus.

And there’s Darius, shirtless and sprawled out on my sofa-bed with his phone in hand. My heart swells when I notice his toothbrush and phone charger sitting on the kitchen counter.

Eyes on his screen, frown on his face, he lifts one corner of the blanket, beckoning me to bed. “The wifi connection is pretty spotty over here,” he mutters.

I plant a fist on my hip, trying not to smile. “You have a seven-bedroom castle across the yard. Why are you here, hogging my sofa-bed again?”

His eyes flick up to mine. His frown deepens. “That old shack?” Darius grouses resentfully, reaching out a hand and tangling his fingers in the hem of my T-shirt. “Don’t you know—your body is my kingdom. My castle is anywhere you are. Now come here and cuddle on me.”

It’s embarrassing the way I scamper into his arms, tucking myself into the warm cocoon of his embrace.

Darius discards his phone somewhere in the bedding. He nuzzles his nose into my neck and breathes me in. I fall asleep with a grin on my face.