“How’d you sleep?” she asks Jackson, looking over her shoulder as she prepares her coffee.
“I stayed with Daddy. He kept me safe,” Jackson replies between bites of bacon. “The Tall Man didn’t come back, but I did see him standing outside your door.”
Scarlet’s face blanks. “Well, I’m going to be sleeping well tonight.”
I laugh, wishing I could give her a similar offer. My bed is open to anyone scared of the dark tonight.
“Are you still coming with us to Grammy’s tonight?” Jackson asks Scarlet.
She flicks her eyes to mine and in that half-second, the room fills with tension so thick it’s hard to breathe.
“Yeah,” she tells him with a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.” Taking a sip of her coffee, she keeps her eyes focused on the floor in front of her. I pile bacon, eggs, and toast onto my own plate, and take another down from the cabinet for Scarlet.
“Hungry?” I ask.
“I’m always hungry in the morning.” With a smile, she sets her coffee down and starts to walk over to the stove. Her perky tits bounce slightly under her T-shirt and I need to turn around and stop looking for my own good.
“Want to play zombies after breakfast?” Jackson asks Scarlet.
“Today’s Scarlet’s day off,” I remind him gently. “She’s here but not really here.”
Jackson tips his head. “Huh?”
Scarlet laughs. “It’s okay. I don’t really have any plans other than showering and reading a chapter or two from my book.”
“Are there zombies in your book?” Jackson’s eyes widen.
“Actually, yes.” Scarlet fills her plate and joins us at the table. “It’s a romance set in the zombie apocalypse. It’s really good.”
“Can you read it to me?”
“When you’re older.” She smiles and then digs into her food. We eat in silence, and I’m a little jealous of the innocent way Jackson is completely oblivious to how fucking awkward things are right now.
“After breakfast, let’s go grocery shopping,” I tell Jackson, who groans in response. I’m sure Scarlet would appreciate a little time to herself, and Lord knows I need some time away. Or a cold shower.
Probably both.
Once everyone is done eating, Jackson goes back to his cartoons and Scarlet clears the table. She’s at the sink, washing dishes and I’m a few feet away from her cleaning the grease off the stovetop that splattered when I made bacon.
I need to say something. I pull the burner apart and wipe it down. I really need to say something. I put the clean burner back on and move onto the one behind it. Once that’s cleaned, I put the grates back on and start on the other side, even though it’s clean. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Has it been that long since I’ve had any sort of a connection to a woman? I can’t remember how these things go.
And I’ve also never almost slept with someone and then had to see them like this in the morning. It’s like some sort of tight-rope version of the Walk of Shame. I need to suck it up and tell her I enjoyed last night, I like her, but we have to keep things professional for Jackson’s sake.
“So, last night,” I start and at the exact same time she asks,
“Should I bring something to—sorry, what?”
I shake my head. “Go ahead.”
“Should I bring something to your parents’ tonight?”
“Nah, you don’t have to. I never do.”
She smiles and scrubs at the pan, trying to get the baked-on eggs off. “I’ve never done a family dinner like this before. I don’t know the etiquette.”
I know our family isn’t the norm. There’s seven of us, plus a few spouses and children now, and the fact that we get together once a week goes above and beyond what a lot of people do. But hearing her say she’s never done a family dinner takes me by surprise, and I know she’s not exaggerating the use of ‘never’ like so many people do.
She really hasn’t gone to a big family dinner before.
I look away from the stove, not prepared for the sadness I see in her eyes. She forces a smile and pushes her shoulders back, a move I’ve seen her do before. It’s a move I know, one that might fool the world but starts to break down over time. You can’t lie to your own heart, after all.
“You’re not close to your brother?”
“Oh, I am. I pretty much raised him. He’s nineteen, so the nine-year age difference made me feel more like his mother than anything else, though I guess you get that. You’re the oldest.”
I nod because I don’t know what else to do. Quinn is eight years younger than me, but I never felt like a parent to her. I probably annoyed her growing up—and still to this day—by being an overprotective older brother, but that’s all I was. Her brother. I never felt like I had to raise her or step in and fill a role.
“I have a sister too,” she does on, turning her head down to look at the dishes she’s washing. “She’s twenty. We didn’t get along growing up much either. For the same reasons.”
“What about now?”
She laughs. “Sometimes.” She rinses the pan and sets it on the counter to dry. “My mom wasn’t the best and my dad wasn’t in the picture until I was fifteen.”
“Oh, I’m, uh, sorry.”
She waves a hand in the air. “It’s water under the bridge. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and all shit, right?” She goes back to washing dishes, closing the conversation about her family. I know there is more to be told, and I know emotional scars when I see them.
“We can bring wine,” I suggest. “My mom likes wine.”
Scarlet looks up with a smile. “That’s something we have in common.”
I laugh. “You’re off to a good start.”
13
Weston
I’ve never once been nervous bringing a girl home to meet my parents. And Scarlet is far from my girl. Still, my heart is beating faster than normal when we get into my Jeep. Scarlet is dressed in a simple black dress. It’s long-sleeved and ends above her knees, with a scoop neckline that shows off her large tits just enough to cause me to want to stare. She curled her hair and put on makeup, looking perfect as usual.
But the way she’s clutching the bottle of wine makes me think she’s nervous too.
“Is there anything I should know about your family?” she asks as I back out of the garage and into the alley that runs behind our house. “Any dark secrets or things?”
There really isn’t. Daisy’s betrayal is the only dark secret in the Dawson family…that I know about, at least. We might not be the most exciting bunch, but I wouldn’t trade my family for anything.
“Don’t bring up cats,” I tell her. “Quinn is almost married and successful, but still very much a crazy cat lady at heart. If she starts talking about cats, she won’t stop.”
“Cats? Well, I wasn’t going to bring them up, but now I’m terrified I’m going to. You’re putting too much pressure on me. Don’t get mad if I start meowing at the dinner table.”
“Funny.” I steal a glance at her, heart hammering even faster when I see her smiling.
“I’m serious. I don’t know if I can handle this kind of pressure right meow.” She looks at me with a straight face. I roll to a stop at a stop sign and stare right back at her. We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before we both start to laugh.
“So that’s your family’s deepest, darkest secret? Your rich and successful sister is a crazy cat lady?”
“I never said she was rich.”
Scarlet’s cheeks flush. “I kinda assumed so from meeting her. Not that she was stuck-up or anything. She had a lot of designer items.”
“Oh, I guess.” I turn down the main street that runs through Eastwood. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff. And she is, so you weren’t wrong. And yeah…I guess that’s the worst of it. Quinn’s fiancé is my brother Dean’s best friend. There was some drama there for a while, but everyone is over it.”
“Ohhh, falling for her older brother’s
best friend. That is good drama.”
“And Dean’s wife is kind of a…a…” I trail off, not wanting to badmouth family.
“A bitch?” Scarlet finishes for me, mouthing the word so Jackson doesn’t hear.
“You said it, not me, But yes.”
She smiles again. “Your secret’s safe with me.” She turns her head, looking out the window. She hasn’t seen any of Eastwood yet, and now I feel like an ass about it. I’m off tomorrow as well, and I’m going to make it a point to show her around town.
“Do you like dogs?” I ask, turning off the main road and heading toward the outskirts of town.
“I’m more of a cat person. I think I’ll get along well with your sister.” Her cherry-red lips pull into a smile. “Why?”
“My mom has four dogs. Now that we’re all grown, she’s a dog mom.”
Scarlet laughs. “She’s one of those.”
“You know the type?”
“I do.”
Jackson looks up from the backseat. “I like dogs.”
“I know you do, buddy,” I tell him. He’s been asking for one for a while now. I briefly considered letting him take home one of the kittens Quinn’s been caring for once it’s old enough, but I wasn’t home enough to feel like it’d be fair to any animal. Though now that Scarlet’s here…
“I like dogs too,” Scarlet tells him. “But I like cats more. They’re elegant and so mysterious.”
I laugh. “You are going to get along with my sister.”
* * *
“How’s everything going?” Quinn whispers, giving me a hug.
“Pretty good,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face.
Quinn leans back, eyebrows going up. Damn her and her ability to read me like an open book.
“Not like that. Jackson is happy, and I think I can trust her around him.”
“She’s hot, you know.”
I unzip my coat and shake my head at my sister. “Having you tell me she’s hot doesn’t make me want to date her. She’s Jackson’s nanny. You and Mom need to get off this, okay?” My words come out harsher than I mean to. I’m yelling at myself, not at my well-meaning baby sister. “Sorry. I just—”
“It’s fine,” Quinn says, green eyes flashing. “I want you to be happy, so shoot me.”
Like Dean, Quinn has a flare for dramatics when she’s angry or hurt. “I know,” I say gently. “And thanks. Just…let me find happiness on my own?”
“But playing matchmaker is so fun.”
“Play it for Logan and Owen.”
“I said ‘matchmaker’ not ‘miracle worker.’ Which is what they need.”
We both laugh, and I turn around to introduce Scarlet to everyone. We’re the last to arrive, and I’m pretty sure the only reason Logan and Owen got here before us is because they knew Scarlet was joining tonight.
“Hi, Quinn,” Scarlet says, bending over to unzip her boots. Oh God, I shouldn’t have looked. The feel of her breasts pressed against my chest is seared into me like muscle memory, and I can’t go down that road right now.
“Hey.” Quinn drops to her knees to hug Jackson. “How are you liking it here so far?”
“So far so good,” Scarlet tells her and flicks her eyes to me. “Everyone has been very welcoming. Though I haven’t seen much of the town yet.”
Quinn eyes me and I smile guiltily. “It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow. We can walk around downtown in the morning.”
Jackson grabs Scarlet’s hand and pulls her through the foyer. My parents’ house is also historical and fully restored, but on a much bigger level than mine. This place was a dump when we first moved in, and my brothers and I might have had fun teasing Quinn about how haunted it was since it looked like something out a horror movie.
Slowly over the years and in between projects for clients, my dad did most of the renovations himself. He taught us all how to be handy, and there aren’t many home improvement projects I can’t handle myself because of it.
“Your parents’ house is gorgeous,” Scarlet says, looking around with wide eyes. “I feel like I’m going to a dinner party with Chip and Joanna.”
“Who?” I ask, following after her and Jackson.
“I’ll tell you later,” Scarlet says over her shoulder. The whole family is gathered in the kitchen, like always. This place is really the heart of the house, and the custom-built island is always a topic of conversation. It’s huge, long enough for us all to have a seat at, and is the perfect place for everyone to converge, eating, talking, and drinking.
I watch Scarlet’s face as we enter, and she does her little trick again, inhaling and pushing her shoulders back, acting like she’s ready to take on the world. Emma, who’s being held by my mom, coos when she sees Quinn and extends her chubby little arms for her mother.
“Hey, sweet pea,” Quinn says and takes her baby. Jackson runs through the kitchen, excited to see everyone. And then all eyes fall on us. Scarlet stays close to me, holding the bottle of wine so tight in her hands I fear the bottle might break. I’m comfortable around everyone in this room. My siblings, obviously. Archer feels just like another younger brother since he and Dean have had a serious bromance going on since they met their freshman year of college, and Kara’s been part of the family for the last four years.
We don’t bring home dates unless it’s serious, and I need to keep reminding myself that Scarlet isn’t my date. There’s nothing going on between us and there never will be, even though I very much want it.
“This is Scarlet,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder. She’s nervous, and her words come back, echoing through my head. She’s never been to a family dinner, and while this doesn’t seem like anything special to the rest of us, it’s probably overwhelming to her.
“Hey, I’m Owen.” My little shit of a brother gets up, flashing her a charming smile and shakes her hand, taking the wine from her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Scarlet returns his smile.
I spread my fingers over her shoulder, and the warmth of her skin through the material of her dress feels like fire. It’s burning me, but I can’t remove my hand.
“And that’s Logan,” I say, pointing to him. “Don’t feel bad if you can’t tell them apart.”
“I’m the better-looking one,” Owen says with a grin as he opens the wine.
Scarlet laughs and looks from Logan to Owen. “Logan’s in the black and Owen’s in the blue. I’m good for now at least.”
“That’s Dean, his wife Kara, and Archer, Quinn’s fiancé.” We take a few steps forward into the kitchen. “This is my mom, and my dad is somewhere.”
“He’s getting Nana,” Mom tells me, striding over. “It’s nice to meet you, Scarlet.”
“You too,” Scarlet says with a sweet smile.
“Nana?” I question, trying not to grimace. Our Nana has a few screws loose and suffers from what we’ve dubbed Old Lady Syndrome, meaning she’s lost her filter and it’s gotten worse since last year.
“It’s been a while since we had her over,” Mom reminds me. “How are you liking it in Eastwood?” she asks Scarlet. “You’re from Chicago, right?”
“I am,” Scarlet answers. “And it’s nice here. Very quiet.”
“Quinn lived in Chicago for a few years and I used to enjoy going for a visit. Though a visit is all I could stand. I was born and raised here. I like my yard and my privacy.”
Scarlet laughs, nodding in agreement. “I could see that. I’m used to hearing the L and the constant chatter of people on my street.”
“The L?”
“It’s a train, Mom,” Quinn answers, sitting down next to Archer.
“Oh, right.” Mom nods. “Anyway, welcome to Eastwood.” She looks down at Jackson and smiles. “And I hope this little guy is being a perfect gentleman.”
Jackson giggles. “I always am, Grammy!”
“He has been perfect,” Scarlet agrees.
“Just wait,” I warn her with a wink. “He’s sti
ll in the honeymoon phase, trust me.”
Scarlet smiles down at Jackson. “I think I can handle it.”
Owen comes back over with two wine glasses, offering one to Scarlet and keeping the other for himself.
“We got that for Mom,” I deadpan. Owen gives me a look and then gives Mom the glass.
“I prefer beer anyway,” he says.
“What happened to that moonshine you were raving about?”
Logan snorts a laugh. “Yeah…what did happen to it?”
Owen glares at Logan, and I motion for Scarlet to sit with me at the island. “I’d rather not talk about it,” he mutters.
“You don’t have to.” Logan takes his phone from his pocket. “I have evidence.”
Mom shakes her head. “I don’t think I want to see this, do I?”
“No one wants to see it,” Owen interjects, going over and trying to steal Logan’s phone. Mom shakes her head and goes into the living room to play with Jackson. Giving up trying to get the phone, Owen takes Emma from Quinn and pulls a silly face, making her laugh.
“Your baby is adorable,” Scarlet tells Quinn, taking a drink of her wine.
“Thanks,” Quinn and Archer say at the same time. All the bar stools are taken now, so Quinn sits on Archer’s lap. He wraps his arms around her and leans in for a kiss.
“Get a room,” Logan teases.
“Don’t encourage them,” Dean replies dryly.
“Upstairs is free,” Owen goes on, blowing a raspberry on Emma’s cheek. She lets out a shriek of laughter. “They need to have another baby for me to play with.”
“You could have your own,” Archer counters.
Owen’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “Nope. It’s not for me.”
“Not yet,” I tell him with a laugh.
“You and Quinn can have the babies. I like being an uncle.”
Kara flicks her eyes up from her phone. “Are you going to have another?” she asks.
“Not soon,” Quinn answers, looking into Archer’s eyes. “I want to be able to drink at our wedding and go on all the rides at Disney. Ideally, I’ll be pregnant by the time we come back from our honeymoon.”
Side Hustle: A Dawson Family Novel Page 9