Chasing Castles (Finding Focus #2) (2 page)

As I pick up my purse and keys, my phone rings in my hand. I let out a relieved sigh until I see that it’s not Deacon who’s calling.

“Hello?”

“Cami.” Sam’s voice comes over the phone, and he sounds worried, which makes my heart beat even faster, and my knees feel weak. I don’t even need him to tell me something’s wrong. I know it. I can feel it deep in my bones.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, already having to force the emotions out of my voice.

“There’s a fire at the restaurant. I’m on my way there now. Where’s Deacon and Micah?”

“Deacon’s there,” I tell him as I try to convince myself that everything’s fine. He’s fine.

Maybe he’s the one who called the fire into the fire department?

Maybe that’s why he didn’t answer?

It could be something small.

“The Chief said he got a call from some guy driving down the highway. He called me on his way out because he couldn’t get ahold of the boys.”

“Yeah, I heard them . . . the sirens.” My voice sounds foreign to my ears, like it’s far away. For whatever reason, I’m still standing in the middle of the gallery, holding my phone tightly to my ear with one hand and gripping my keys so hard with the other that they’re leaving an indentation. “I called Deacon,” I tell him. “No answer.”

“Everything’s fine, Cam.” Sam’s reassuring voice reaches out, but my mind is all over the place. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll call you once I get there.”

“No,” I practically scream over the phone as the haze I’ve been under lifts a little. “I’m coming. I’ll be there.” Without a second thought, I run out the door.

I’ve been chasing after Deacon Landry for practically my entire life. With our wedding one week from today, I refuse to lose him now.

Camille

Past

“GIRL, YOU’RE LOOKIN’ HOT TONIGHT,
” Stacey gushes. “All the boys are gonna be stuck on you like glue.”

Stacey Guidry is my best friend. Well, she’s my best
girl
friend. We’ve been close since the first day of kindergarten, and she knows almost everything about me.

What she doesn’t know is that I don’t care if the boys like how I look tonight; I only care about how one boy looks at me. That one boy who is truly my best friend and has been my entire life. The one boy who’ll never feel for me the way I feel about him because he’s my brother’s best friend and only thinks of me as a little sister.

Deacon Samuel Landry.

The
Deacon Samuel Landry, first son of the wealthy lawyer Sam Landry and his wife, Annie. Deacon lives in a gorgeous plantation home that’s been in his family for generations and is a star football player at our high school. Girls want to screw him, and boys want to be him. He’s perfect in every way, but the best thing about him is that he doesn’t think of himself that way. To most people, he’s the life of the party but, when he’s with me, he’s quiet and thoughtful. He has a good head on his shoulders, and he already knows what he wants in life. I consider myself very fortunate to be able to see both sides of Deacon. I just wish he could see the real me, as well.

“Hello! Earth to Cami!” Stacey waves her hand in front of my face, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Good grief, girl. Daydreamin’ again? You always have your head in the clouds.” Stacey is teasing me, but she’s right—I often have my head in the clouds, so to speak. I sometimes find it’s easier to deal with life by escaping into a fantasy from time to time.

A fantasy where my mom is still alive.

A fantasy where I’m not constantly under the watchful eye of my brother.

A fantasy where I can spread my wings and be free.

A fantasy where Deacon Landry sees me for more than just a little sister.

“I wasn’t daydreamin’; I was thinkin’. There’s a difference, you know.”

“Uh huh. Which boy were you
thinkin’
about? Jared? Connor? Henry? You know they all like you.”

“Well, I don’t like them. They’re so immature and dumb,” I say, scowling.

“Of course, they are, silly! They’re barely fifteen years old, which is the prime age for teaching them how to treat a girl, if you know what I mean. They’ll mature in no time.” Stacey giggles and turns her attention to her reflection, fluffing out her curly hair.

Sure, I know what she means. I’ve kissed a few boys, but Stacey has gone as far as second base. That certainly makes her more of an expert on boys than I am, and I’m okay with that.

Because I just want one boy.

It’s been said that high school football is everything in Texas, but I think it must be that way everywhere in the south. I learned from my dad, here in Louisiana, that Friday nights are for high school football, Saturdays are for college football—SEC only, please and thank you—and Sundays are for watching the pros play. All weekend activities center around those three things in the fall, and we are to say an extra prayer of thanks for the invention of TiVo for the rare occasion when we have no other choice but to miss a game.

Naturally, the stands are almost full when my dad drops Stacey and me off at the gate so that he can find a parking spot. He doesn’t have to worry about finding a seat because he’ll be standing with his buddies against the fence. They’re the real referees of the game. If you want to know the true score, ask them.

Before squeezing through the crowd and making our trek up the bleachers, we stop at the concession stand to buy a few snacks to tide us over until halftime. And that’s when I hear her.

“See that spot right over there under the bleachers?” she asks. “That’s where Deacon kissed me yesterday after football practice.”

If there’s one girl I hate in life, it’s Marcy Bernard. Marcy is a senior, and she thinks she’s better than everybody. She’s also a stuck-up busy-body, and now she’s a liar too. Normally, I can channel the voice of Deacon’s mom, Annie, and simply ‘bless her heart’ and walk away, but there’s no way I can let her get away with spreading lies, especially when I know they’re not true.

“Get me a Coke and popcorn,” I tell Stacey, handing her two dollars. “I’ll be right back.”

I walk closer to where Marcy and her group of simple-minded followers are standing.

“What do you want, Camille? You want in on the details of my love life, too?” She smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, and her friends laugh. But I play it cool, barely managing to contain my eye roll.

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to let your friends know that you’re full of shit.”

Marcy gasps. “You can’t talk to me like that, you stupid little sophomore. What do you know anyway?”

“What I know is that, after practice yesterday, Deacon drove
me
home.” I don’t add that my brother, Tucker, and Deacon’s brother, Micah, were with us, because . . . well, because it isn’t important. “I was waiting for him at his truck and watched him leave the field house and walk straight to me.” That part is true. Deacon had obviously showered after practice because his dark, wavy hair was still wet when he waved goodbye to his teammates and headed to his truck. He was beautiful, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

Hands on her hips, Marcy glares at me. “Just because Deacon was nice enough to give you a ride home doesn’t mean you’re his girlfriend or anything.” She snorts, like that’s the farthest thing from the truth. “You’re just a little girl with a crush. Deacon doesn’t want
you
; he wants a real woman.”

Her words go straight to my gut as she plays on my insecurities, but I’ll be damned if I let her know. “Well, when he finds a
real woman
, I’ll be sure to tell you because another thing I know about Deacon is that he has taste. He can spot bullshit a mile away, and he would never be seen with a tramp like you.”

Before Marcy can speak again, I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders and pull me back. Unfortunately, it’s not the arm I want to be wrapped around me. That arm is getting ready to throw the first snap of the game. And I’m gonna miss it because I’m down here getting ready to engage in my first-ever fist fight with Marcy. My blood is still boiling when Tucker’s smooth voice comes on the scene. I love him, and I love that he always wants to come to my defense and be my protector, but he is always sticking his nose in my business.

“Now, now, ladies. What seems to be the trouble here?” he asks.

Marcy huffs and crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her boobs up. “Your sister thinks she knows everything about Deacon Landry and can’t accept the fact that he wants me instead of her,” Marcy tells him.

Shaking off Tucker’s arm, I turn and face him. “Marcy was telling her gaggle of groupies here that Deacon kissed her yesterday after practice, and I simply explained that she was lying through her teeth.”

“Is that right?” Tucker’s grin grows wider. I know he loves this. He loves putting Marcy in her place and calling her out on her bullshit. There’s no love lost between my brother and Marcy Bernard. She can’t stand that he won’t worship at her feet like the majority of boys at French Settlement High School. She’s never been able to weasel her way in with Micah or Tucker, and she sure as hell has never succeeded with Deacon, which is why I feel the need to put her in her place.

“Well, ladies,” he starts, focusing his attention on Marcy’s friends. “I’m sorry to say that your leader is, in fact, pullin’ your legs. You see, Deacon went home with us yesterday. And there was no kissin’ of any sort, except for when Micah and I were makin’ out with the Johnson sisters against the fence before we left.”

“But—” Marcy tries to argue, but Tucker shuts her up by covering her mouth. I watch in satisfaction as her face turns six shades of red behind his hand and her eyes practically bug out of her head.

“And, as for your insinuation that Cami likes Deacon as anything other than a friend, you couldn’t be more wrong. My little sister is way too good for a dumbass like Deacon Landry, and he knows he’d better stay away from her.” His eyes turn from the girls to me, and I watch as his stare turns into a glare. “Otherwise, I’ll have to kick his ass.”

I
really
hate my brother sometimes, but I keep my expression even, not giving him one twitch of my lips or quirk of an eyebrow, because I’d never want him to know how I really feel about Deacon.

“Whatever, Tucker!” Marcy screeches, completely losing her composure. She yanks on one of the girls’ arms as she starts to walk off, flipping her hair over her shoulder and then flipping us the bird. Pausing, she turns back and yells, “I’d stay away from those Johnson sisters if I were you. They’re walking STDs!”

Tucker chuckles and I take the opportunity to push him away from me, hoping he’ll fall flat on his ass. No such luck, though. He catches himself and runs his fingers through his hair before looking at me like I’m crazy.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For being a jackass, that’s what.”

“All I did was stand up for you to Marcy Bernard. What did you expect me to do, stand around and let you two fight over Deacon?”

“You didn’t have to do anything, Tucker. Stop trying to protect me and fight my battles. I can take care of myself!”

“As long as I’m around, I’ll always come to your defense. I’m your big brother. It’s my job,” he says, throwing an arm around my shoulder, but I shrug it off.