Page 35 of Beautiful Crazy
Here goes nothing.
Handing him a glass, I ask, “Want to sit outside again? It’s a nice evening.”
“Yeah, let’s do it.” He flashes me another grin that somehow makes my nipples hard. God, it’s been so fucking long since someone has made my body react this way; it’s foreign to me, but I can’t deny how good it feels.
Or how much I want him to keep doing what he’s doing… and more. If a simple smile can make me feel this way, I can’t even imagine what his hands or his mouth on my body would do. I’ll probably combust.
Like I always do when I sit out here at night with a glass of wine, I turn on some music. Music and wine after a long day of working on a million different tasks and also being a mom is my go-to form of self-care and relaxation.
“Thanks for coming today,” I murmur as I take a sip from my glass. My nerves are going haywire, so I’m hoping the wine can help calm me down; otherwise, I don’t know how I expect to get this proposition out. “I know it means a lot to Sutton to have you there. And it means a lot to me too.”
With his eyes locked on mine, Everett smiles in a way that has my insides fluttering like a schoolgirl. “I wouldn’t have missed it. It’s been nice playing again, and getting to watch the game.”
“You said you played when you were younger, right?”
He nods. “Not for too long, but I did play when I was Sutton’s age and through middle school.” Taking a drink, he adds, “At the field today, I realized how much Sutton reminds me of myself as a kid. It’s been fun getting to help him gain more confidence in his skill.”
It’s then I realize I don’t know anything about Everett and his family, besides that his grandmother was my neighbor. Living in Blossom Beach and meeting mine, it’s impossible to not learn about our dynamics, but I want to know more about him and the life he came from.
“Tell me about your family,” I murmur, smiling at him over the top of my wineglass.
Everett blows out an exaggerated breath, causing me to giggle. “Whoa, boy, we’re going to need more of this soon if we’re going to go there.”
“That bad?” I ask. “We don’t have to go there if you don’t want to.”
“Nah, I don’t mind.” He waves a hand in front of him as he sets his wine down on the table between us. “It’s not all bad, but like every family, there are some not-so-fun parts. And you shared so much with me the last time we were out here together, the least I can do is do the same.”
I know he’s referring to Dylan. His death isn’t something I talk about with people outside of my family. Not because I’m still stricken with grief—because, of course, I have my days when I miss him, and I think I always will, but after six years and a whole lot of therapy, you learn to live with it and not let it weigh you down, or you’ll never beable to move forward—but because I can’t stand the pity people look at me with when they learn my story.
There was definitely a time when I couldn’t get out of bed, when it felt like my world couldn’t go on, but again, time and therapy have helped. I’m not some sad, depressed widow who is walking the plank toward her next mental breakdown, but when people learn about what happened, they look at me like I am. I hate it. But last week, I don’t know… when he asked about Sutton’s dad, I felt safe telling him. And not only that, I felt okay sharing details about it with him.
“My family, specifically my father’s side, comes from money. The Windward men come from a long line of very strong, cutthroat attorneys, and my father is no exception. All my life, my dad worked hard. His career and his powerful, deep-pocket clients were his entire life.” Everett takes a drink, and I watch the way his throat works as he swallows. “There’re two times in all of my childhood that I can remember my father taking any time off to spend with us. It’s just how he is. Work is everything to him. It’s his number one, no matter what.”
A faraway look in his eyes, Everett huffs out a dry laugh. “My mom used to joke when I was a teenager about how she was his mistress, and his career was his real wife. It was meant to be funny, but it wasn’t because of how accurate it was.”
“How did your mom feel about his dedication to his job?”
“She was fine with it,” he explains. “My mother is an independent woman, and their arrangement has always seemed to work well for them. I never understood it. Neverunderstood why anyone would want to be married, but essentially never see their spouse.”
“How did you feel about it?” I ask, although, based on the tightness of his expression and the harshness in his tone, I have a feeling I know.
“It’s…” He blows out a breath. “My father and I have always had a strained relationship. I resent him for all the time he spent at work when he could’ve spent it with his family, and he resents me for refusing to follow in his footsteps.”
“He wanted you to become an attorney?”
“Oh yeah.” He nods, brow furrowed. “It’s what the Windward men do. They have for generations, but I just… couldn’t. I knew, even as a teenager, that I wanted to be nothing like my father. Not only did I have no interest in studying law, but I also have seen firsthand how corrupt it can all be. There truly isn’t much that money can’t buy in this country.”
My heart aches for him. Even with what little he’s shared, I can tell how much his father’s absence hurt him. My parents may have gotten a divorce when I was little, but my dad has always been there for me and my siblings. Hell, even when they probably disliked one another, my parents made an effort to always do things with us kids together, even when I’m sure they hated it. I can’t imagine what it would be like to feel like I came in second place compared to my parents’ jobs. No child deserves that.
“I’m so sorry, Everett.” Reaching over, I cover his hand with mine. “I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt. I’m assuming he didn’t react well when you decided to become a teacher?”
He laughs again, but there’s no humor in it. “Not at all. We actually didn’t speak for a few years while I was in college. He couldn’t wrap his head around why I wouldn’t want to follow in his footsteps. And aside from the money I was given by my late grandfather for school, my dad cut me off completely.”
“No, he didn’t.” My heart thumps harder, the need to wrap him up and comfort him strong.
“Oh, he did. As I mentioned before, my family comes from money. When the men turn twenty-five, they’re supposed to get access to a trust fund. However, since I decided to take a different path for myself, my dad somehow was able to take that away from me.”
My eyes widen. “How much was in the trust fund?”