“This is good,” I say after I take a sip.
“It is, isn’t it?” Logan looks across the bar at Danielle, spacing out for a second before turning back to me. “What’s it like living with my brother? He can be very, uh, uptight at times. Though he’s dealt with an unfair amount of shit in his life.”
“He’s great. Jackson too.”
“You can be honest,” Logan jokes.
“Really,” I laugh. “We get along well, which is nice. I’m there for Jackson, but it helps, ya know? We eat dinner and watch TV together and it’s not weird.”
“That’s good. Going and living with someone would be weird on its own.”
I nod and take another drink of wine. “It takes a while to get used to. I know he wishes he didn’t have to have a nanny for Jackson.” I look over at Wes again. “He’ll never admit it, but I think he feels guilty for being away.”
“He does. My big brother might be a tad prickly at times, but nothing is more important to him than family.”
“I can tell,” I say as my gaze drifts back to Wes. “It’s a very admirable quality, and if I’m being honest, it’s not one I see too often.”
“Right,” Logan agrees.
I can’t help the smile that pulls up my lips or the flush that colors my cheeks. I’m still looking at Wes, and Logan catches me watching.
“So your place is really nice,” I blurt, feeling almost as if I’m having an out-of-body experience. The last time I was at a bar, things went very different. I actually can’t remember the last time I went to a bar just for fun like this. This isn’t me. It’s so far from the version of myself I usually am it’s jarring.
But I like it.
18
Weston
I put my squad car in park and get out, stepping into the quiet night that surrounds my house. It’s been a long week, and I’m looking forward to having the weekend off. The living room light is on, and I can see the fuzzy outline of Scarlet sitting on the couch through the sheer curtains.
Several pumpkins and a few pots of mums are on the porch steps, and it looks like she and Jackson finished putting up the little graveyard scene in the lawn today, finally decorating for Halloween. She’s been here for two weeks now, and we’ve fallen into a good routine.
A good routine that involves awkwardly avoiding the very obvious fact that we’re both extremely attracted to each other.
We eat meals together whenever I’m home, and on the nights the sky is clear, Scarlet goes outside to look at the stars. I’ve joined her a few times, but it’s harder and harder to keep my hands to myself and my heart in my chest whenever I’m around her.
Jackson loves her, and having the stability has already made a difference in his behavior and mood. He’s always a happy kid, but not having to get up at the crack of dawn makes a huge difference on the kid. He’s not a morning person.
My life has been simplified in some aspects as well, and not having to try to fit in cleaning and making dinner has been a huge relief. I shouldn’t be as tired as I am, but I’ve had a hard time falling asleep knowing Scarlet is just down the hall. I wake up almost every night after dreaming of her, cock hard and heart racing.
She’s beautiful, but it’s more than that. She’s good with my son. Takes care of him and makes him happy. The rare times I’d let my mind wander and would think of dating again, I always came back to the same issue: Jackson.
Dating isn’t easy. Dating with kids is even harder. Not only do I need to find someone who is fine with me having a kid, they’d have to bond with Jackson before I considered moving into anything serious. It’s almost like things have been done in reverse with Scarlet. She came here for Jackson, and I know he’d approve if we—
“Stop,” I say out loud to myself. It’s not going to happen.
A gust of wind blows through, rattling the trees. Misty rain begins to fall, and I hurry into the house. I take off my shoes and coat, and head upstairs to lock up my gun for the night.
“Hey,” Scarlet says, looking up from her phone. “How was work?”
“Work was fine. The meetings…” I shake my head. “They went all right too. But you know how I don’t like them.”
“I do.” She sets her phone down on the coffee table. “Jackson polished off the leftovers, but I can make something for you if you want.”
“Thanks, but I’m good. I picked up fast food on the way home.” I pat my stomach. “I undid my workout from this morning, I know. But those fries were worth it.”
Scarlet laughs. “I admire your dedication.” She stretches her legs out in front of her. “I was just about to start the new season of American Horror Story. Want to watch it with me?”
We haven’t sat on the couch like this since the incident. I think we’re both afraid of what might happen if we stay up late and sit in the dark together again. And good Lord I want it to happen again. I’ve been able to use work as an excuse before. I can’t stay up late because I have to get up early, and obviously working the night shifts prevented any such offerings.
But tonight…tonight I have no reason to say no, and I do want to watch the show. I’m off all weekend, and so is Scarlet. She’s going to Chicago to see her dad again tomorrow. I haven’t asked, and she hasn’t said anything, but I get the feeling her dad is sick or something. I’ve heard her a few times on the phone, talking about treatments, and once she seemed close to tears while arguing with insurance about getting a medication covered.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’ll watch it.”
“Great. So you said no to food, but what about popcorn?”
“I never say no to popcorn.”
Scarlet smiles and gets up to make some while I change. She’s still in the kitchen when I come back down. Her phone is set to silent and is still on the coffee table. It vibrates, getting my attention. A text comes through from someone named Corbin. Two black hearts follow his name, and I divert my eyes, not wanting to so much as read a word he’s saying.
I never really thought about Scarlet dating, and I assumed she was single from 1.) taking a job where she moved two hours away from home and in with another family and 2.) that kiss was pretty intense the other night.
Scarlet comes back, smile on her face, and sits on the couch next to me. There are three cushions on the couch, and there’s an unwritten rule of leaving the middle one free when two people who aren’t romantically involved sit together. But Scarlet ignores the rule and puts the popcorn in her lap.
Her phone vibrates again, and as soon as she reads the texts, her smile disappears and a line of worry forms between her eyes. She hands me the popcorn and texts back, making sure her phone is angled away so I can’t see it.
With a sigh, she sets her phone down next to her and picks up the remote. Her face is tight as she turns on the TV.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she says back without missing a beat. She puts on her front again, pushing her shoulders back and lifting her eyebrows just enough to cover the worry. She holds that stance for a while, and I wonder if it’s subconscious or if she’s really good at understanding body language and is doing it on purpose.
Either way, something is upsetting her, and it upsets me. I don’t want to pry, because I know Scarlet isn’t throwing out the ‘it’s fine’ line just to see if I’ll keep digging. She wants me to believe things are fine so I don’t pressure her.
“Okay. If you need anything…just let me know,” I say quietly.
Her smile trembles for a quick second. “Thanks. And I will. Actually, I’ll probably leave early tomorrow to beat the traffic.”
“You can take my Jeep,” I offer, knowing she’s been Ubering to Chicago and back. It’s not cheap.
“Don’t you need it?”
“I don’t plan on going anywhere tomorrow, to be honest, and I have my squad car if I absolutely need to leave the house.”
“You’re sure?” she asks again.
“Yeah. This might be a stupid question, but do you
drive a lot in the city?”
“Where I lived, yeah, I did. Well, when I had a car. I sold it for drug money.”
I raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to laugh so I know she’s joking. She doesn’t.
“Drugs for my dad,” she goes on, seeing the blank expression on my face. “And not illegal drugs. Prescription. My dad is…” She lets out a breath and at the same time, lets go of the air she’s putting on. Her shoulders sag forward, and her smile is nowhere to be seen. “My dad is sick.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
She pulls her arms in around herself. “He’s been sick for a while and the medical bills won’t pay themselves.”
“It’s bullshit how much healthcare costs.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.” She pushes her hair back and lets out a deep sigh. “We missed the beginning.” Turning her attention back to the TV, she rewinds the minute or so we missed. Halfway through the episode, Scarlet’s rests her head on my shoulder. Only a minute or two later, she’s asleep.
Guess I’m not the only one having a hard time sleeping at night.
19
Scarlet
“I don’t get it,” I say, cutting apart a piece of chicken. Well, if you can consider this over-processed mess chicken. “If the issue is he wants to get up and walk, then why can’t someone walk with him?” I stab a small piece of chicken on the fork and feed it to my father. “He wouldn’t fall then because someone would be helping him, right?”
“Girl,” Corbin says, feeding two patients at once. “We are so understaffed I’m thrilled if we get through our shower list. You’re right, and it’s not fucking fair, but it’s all I can do just to get two aides to cover the south wing with me.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say, making sure he knows I don’t hold any blame on him. Corbin works his ass off, as do many of the others here. The problem is there aren’t enough of them. This place is a dump, and nobody wants to work here. Unfortunately, most of the residents here have similar financial situations to mine and can’t go anywhere else.
“You need to get out of here,” Corbin says quietly, as if he’s reading my mind. “I’m trying to, and I have an interview at the hospital next week.” He looks around the table and shakes his head. “I don’t want to leave these guys though.”
“You deserve better,” I tell him.
“So do they.”
I give Dad another bite of chicken. “This fucking sucks.”
“I know it.” Corbin shakes his head. “It’s lose-lose no matter what we do.”
I let out a sigh. “Yeah, it is.” I pick up the water and put the straw to Dad’s lips. He swats my hand away.
“I can feed myself, Wendy.”
It’s not the first time he’s called me by my mother’s name. Once upon a time, before the meth and the heroin, my mother and I shared a resemblance. I remember looking through her high school yearbook once and thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Ignoring my father, I move the water away and wait a few seconds before trying again. This time he takes a drink.
“So,” Corbin starts. “You pulled up here in a Jeep Wrangler, not a Caddy. Did the new job not work out?”
My stomach tightens. I’d moved past conning Wes, and dare I say I almost forgot about it? I didn’t, not by a long shot, but a girl can dream, right?
“I’m still working as a nanny, but in the traditional sense this time.”
Corbin gives me a quizzical look. We never hang out, but he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. He’s one of the least judgmental people I know, and there’s just something humbling about the guy who wipes my dad’s ass and gives him a shower. There are two people in this world who know the nitty-gritty details of my life. One is my sister and the other is Corbin.
“But you don’t like kids.”
I shrug. “This kid isn’t so bad.” I smile. “He’s great, actually. And his dad—my boss—is a great guy too. His whole family is great, and now I’ve said great like a million times.”
“They must really be great.”
I roll my eyes at Corbin. “They are though, and it’s been nice hanging out with them,” I say, lowering my voice. I’m not sure what state of mind Dad is in, but there’s always a chance he’ll hear me, and I don’t want to make him feel bad.
Not that his behavior is excused. He and Mom had a tumultuous relationship that imploded when Mom cheated on him. Dad always drank too much but spiraled after that. He left us, and Mom went into a depression. She wasn’t without her vices before, of course, and things got worse from there on out. We never realized how much Dad tried to keep Mom clean until he left.
He wanted to leave her, but he also left us. When he showed back up in our lives, I refused to talk to him for half a year. I caved only because I wanted to go back and graduate high school.
“And his wife?” Corbin asks, raising his eyebrows.
“He doesn’t have one.”
“Ohhhh.”
“It’s not like that.” I shake my head and trade the fork for a spoon and test the soup before giving some to Dad. It’s not terrible, but it is lacking a bit in flavor. I add some salt, stirring it up. “They’re just good people. Maybe they’ll rub off on me. They all get together on Sundays for dinner, and by all, I mean my boss and his four siblings. At their parents’ house. Like a TV family.”
Corbin shakes his head. “Perfect families like that freak me out. Lord knows what’s hiding in their closets.”
I smile and laugh, but I know the Dawsons aren’t like that. They’re perfect in my eyes. But they’re not without their faults.
Maybe we’re not so different after all.
* * *
“I thought they misspoke when they called my name.” Heather’s arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and she’s sporting a new bruise on her temple. I’m not even going to ask.
“Funny, Heather.”
“It’s been what, two weeks since I’ve seen you?” She cocks her eyebrows and stares me down as if she just caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.
“That’s not my fault.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means the reason I haven’t seen you is because you’re in jail.” My words come out harsher than I meant. Trumpets will sound the day she grows the fuck up and takes responsibility for her actions. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to see Dad?”
“I saw him today.”
“And that was the first time since you came out this way last?”
The woman who obviously eavesdropped on our conversation the last time I was here comes into the room. Her eyes fall on me for a few seconds before she moves in and takes a seat at a nearby table.
“No, I saw him last week.”
“And you didn’t come see me?” The pitch of Heather’s voice goes up. Dammit. She takes things too personally, and I know she has to be miserable in here. Knowing I was in the area but didn’t stop by stings, but it’s not like that.
“It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive from here to Eastwood, and I was tired. Plus, I needed to get back for…for dinner.”
“You couldn’t come see me so you could fucking eat dinner? It better have been a damn good meal.”
“The food was good,” I admit. Though the company is even better. “What happened to your face?” I change the subject, knowing asking about her injuries will piss her off too, but at least she’ll be pissed off for a different reason.
“This is what happens when you try and stay out of trouble.” She motions to her face. “But it’s been handled.”
“Handled?”
Heather lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been in here, okay?”
I nod. “Okay. I just want you to come home.”
“Do we even have a home anymore? Aren’t you living with some rich family in East-something-or-other.”
“Eastwood, and I told you, he’s a single dad and not rich.�
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“So that’s your home. Where am I going to go?”
I shake my head. “I’ll figure it out.”
“What if I get out tomorrow?”
She won’t, so that’s not even a concern. “I’ll come get you.”
“And then what?”
“I’ll take you back with me.”
She lets out a snort of laughter. She’s angry at something else and is taking it out on me. “And I could stay in the house you’re living at?”
“No, I don’t think Wes would be okay with that,” I say honestly. “But we’d get you a hotel room until we could set up something more permanent.”
“We?”
“Yes, I know Wes would help me. He’s a good guy.”
Instead of coming back with a sassy comment, Heather smiles. “You really like this guy, don’t you?”
“I do like him, but not in the way you’re insinuating. He’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, you said that.”
Heat rushes through me. “Okay, yeah…he’s attractive and if I wasn’t his son’s nanny, I’d make a move. Another move, since Jackson kind of cock-blocked us the first time.” I shake my head. “But he’s a good guy, Heather. One of the rare, really good ones. And I’m, well, not. I took the job as a nanny with the intentions of conning money out of him. I’m a horrible person.”
Heather laughs and reaches across the table, taking my hands. “Scar, don’t even say that. You’re not a horrible person. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. And this orange jumpsuit proves it on my end.” She gives my hands a squeeze. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? That’s not my older sister talking.”
“He’s my boss. What if we hook up and then it’s weird? I live with him and his son.”
“But what if it’s not weird?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He doesn’t strike me as the kind who would be okay with a fuck-buddy type of relationship. If we hooked up, things between us would go to the next level.”
Side Hustle: A Dawson Family Novel Page 13