“Yeah?”
“Thank you, Scarlet, for everything.”
I put my free hand on top of his hand and close my eyes in a long blink. “Of course, Wes.” I look into his eyes. “Get some rest so you get better. We still have Netflix to binge.”
His lips curve into a small smile. “That’s good motivation.”
* * *
I take a drink of ice water, debating pouring it over my head while I sit in the middle of the hospital cafeteria. After practically running out of the room, I hid in an elevator with my back against the wall until my heart stopped pounding.
I don’t know what is happening to me…even though I really do.
But I won’t say it. I don’t believe in love. My heart isn’t capable of it.
My phone buzzes in my purse, pulling me out of the reverie I was in. It’s Quinn, and I’m sure she’s calling to check on Wes.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Scarlet. Are you with Wes?”
“Not currently. I went to the cafeteria to get some food.”
“Oh, okay. How’s he doing?”
“He’s looking better.”
“Thanks for taking him. Wes doesn’t go to the doctor willingly.”
I lean back and smile. “I noticed. Did you happen to call your mom and tell her Wes is sick?”
Quinn laughs. “I know better.”
“Wes said she freaks out a little.”
“That’s an understatement.” Emma starts crying in the background. “I gotta go, but thanks for looking out for my brother. Can you text me an update later?”
“Yeah, I will. Give Emma a hug for me.”
“I will. Bye!”
I hang up and finish my food, then grab a drink and a snack to take up to Wes. He’s asleep, so I quietly slip in and try to get comfortable in the chair next to the bed. The nurse comes in a few minutes later, looks him over but doesn’t wake him, and then all is quiet again. I read a book on my phone and end up drifting off, not waking until the doctor comes back in to look Wes over.
His fever went down to a manageable level, and Wes can go home.
“You’re still sick,” the doctor tells him. “Rest the remainder of today and take it easy tomorrow.”
“I will,” Wes agrees, eager to get out of here. The doctor leaves and a few minutes later a nurse comes in with discharge paperwork.
“Is your girlfriend driving you home?” the nurse asks, going over the standard questions.
I look at Wes, who hesitates but doesn’t take the time to correct her. Maybe it’s because he’s too tired to bother, or maybe because he’s pretending we’re together too, like I am.
I grab Wes’s coat, taking it to him once the nurse leaves.
“Thanks again,” he tells me.
“You’re welcome. You look better already.”
I text Quinn as we’re walking out, letting her know Wes is on the mend and is heading home. Logan is at the house along with Owen. They’re both wearing jeans and gray T-shirts, making it hard to tell them apart.
Jackson has his play doctor kit out on the coffee table and immediately leads Weston to the couch for a check-up.
“Did you mean to dress alike?” I ask the twins, going right to the bathroom to wash the hospital germs off my hands.
Logan and Owen look at each other and then down at their own clothes.
“I didn’t even realize it,” Logan admits with a laugh. “It’s a twin thing, I guess.”
“That’s funny and very interesting at the same time.” I join everyone in the living room, sitting on the edge of the couch. Wes bends his legs up, giving me more space.
“Well,” Owen says, giving his twin a look. Logan widens his eyes and ever so slightly shakes his head. “You’re in good hands here. We gotta head out and get the bar ready for tonight.”
“Thanks, guys,” Wes says, sounding like he’s about ready to fall asleep again.
“No problem.” Logan gives Jackson a hug goodbye. “Take care of your dad, okay?”
“I will,” Jackson promises.
“Thanks for looking out for Wes,” Owen tells me quietly before they leave. Jackson cuddles up with Weston on the couch, and I slip upstairs for a quick shower. When I get out, I hear voices coming from downstairs. I pause by my bedroom door, recognizing Mrs. Dawson’s voice. Towel drying my hair, I quickly get dressed and go downstairs.
Wes is still on the couch, looking tired and a little annoyed by his mother’s presence. She’s fussing over him, taking his temperature and removing the blanket Jackson had covered him with.
“Hi, Mrs. Dawson,” I say.
“Scarlet, hi.” She stands, setting a Tupperware bowl on the coffee table. She comes over and gives me a hug. “Thank you so much for making my stubborn son go to the doctor.”
“You’re welcome. I wanted him to go yesterday, but he swore he’d be better.”
“I would have been,” Wes counters and I laugh. Mrs. Dawson looks from Wes to me and back again.
“I brought chicken noodle soup. Is anyone hungry? I can heat it up.”
“I am, Grammy!” Jackson exclaims but makes no move to get up and away from the cartoons he’s watching. Mrs. Dawson goes into the kitchen and I move closer to Wes.
“Make her leave,” he whispers.
“She’s just worried.”
Wes rolls his eyes. “I have the flu, not a rare jungle disease. I’ll be fine, really.” He sighs. “I’m tired.”
My heart lurches in my chest and I want nothing more than to crawl under the blanket with him, run my hands up and down his muscular arms until he falls asleep.
“I’ll try to speed things up,” I promise.
“Thanks.”
Going into the kitchen, I plug in the coffee pot.
“Tired, honey?” Mrs. Dawson asks.
“Yes. I was worried about Wes and didn’t sleep much through the night,” I admit before I realize how that sounds. He’s my boss.
Instead of looking shocked, Mrs. Dawson’s face lights up. “I’m glad you’re here for him.”
“For Jackson?”
“For them both.” She takes the lid off the Tupperware. “Weston’s always been the strong, responsible one. The last few years haven’t been easy on him, though he’ll never admit it. It’s nice seeing him happy again.”
Is she saying what I think she’s saying? “Well, I’m sure it’s because he doesn’t have to worry about Jackson’s schedule as much anymore.”
Mrs. Dawson gives me a wink. “Sure. That’s all it is.”
Yes, she is saying what I think she’s saying. And dammit, I want it to be true. In fact, I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life.
23
Scarlet
“You could take another day off,” I tell Wes, looking up from Jackson’s bed. I’m stripping the sheets and replacing them with new ones. Wes slept pretty much all day after we got home from the hospital and took it easy the next day. Now he’s ready for a long day of work.
“I don’t need to,” he tells me, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t have a fever anymore. And you and Jackson are fine, so the virus is gone.”
“Don’t you dare jinx us. Those things can lay dormant for days.”
“If you get sick, I’ll take care of you.”
The elastic slips out of my fingers and the fitted sheet pops off the mattress. Heat rushes through me, and my pussy quivers at the thought of him taking care of me. Yesterday, the three of us lounged around and watched movies for most of the day. It was more than just nice.
It was perfect.
Well, except how fucking horny Weston makes me. We get along. He makes me laugh. And I want him so bad I’m going to have to change my underwear the moment he leaves. My body craves him, making it physically hard to not touch him when we’re near.
Just to see what will happen.
He kissed me once, I’m sure he’ll do it again.
I kneel on the mattress, bending forward to stick the cor
ner of the fitted sheet back on. My ass is in Weston’s direct line of sight, and part of me hopes I’m driving him as wild as he drives me.
Because this is really un-fucking-fair.
“I’m sure you will,” I say in a tight voice. “Though if I do get sick, it’ll be your fault, for one, bringing home the virus, and two, having just jinxed me like a minute ago.”
Wes laughs and steps in, grabbing the other end of the sheet. He helps me make the bed and gathers up the laundry Jackson left on the floor. He adds it to the laundry basket in the closet.
I could sit back and watch him clean all day.
“When will you be home?” I ask, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.
“Around nine.”
“Okay. I’ll keep a plate of dinner in the fridge for you.”
“Thanks.”
He’s in uniform, looking hot with his hair pulled back. The color is back to his face, and he looks better. Though a proper inspection is probably a good idea. Hot in Here plays in my head again as I imagine him stripping naked in front of me. I’m getting so wound up and sexually frustrated. I need to stop.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Right,” I say. “Tonight.”
* * *
“Time for bed, buddy,” I tell Jackson, eyeing the time.
“Aww man,” he says, throwing his head back. “But we just got the farm all set up.”
“I’ll tell you what. Let’s leave it out until morning and we can play again after breakfast.”
“Okay!”
I get up and offer him a hand. He lets me pull him off the ground—and I mean literally pull him up—and we go into the bathroom to brush his teeth and go potty before bedtime. We read a dozen books and I’m starting to drift off during the last one.
“Lights out,” I yawn. Jackson starts to freak out the moment the light goes off. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“The Tall Man might get me in the dark. Can you leave the light on?”
“The Tall Man isn’t here. Are you scared of the dark tonight?”
He nods, and I flick the bedside lamp back on. “Hang on a second. I have something for you. Stay here.”
I get to his door before he scrambles after me, following me into my room at the end of the hall.
“This is Ray,” I say, taking my scruffy unicorn from my bed. “He was mine when I was a kid, and he kept me safe. He’ll keep you safe too.”
Jackson looks at the stuffed animal, not sure whether to believe me or not. A few seconds pass and he hugs Ray.
“Can you feel his protection powers?”
“I do!”
“Good.” Taking his hand, I lead him back into his room and into bed. I shut off the lights and pull the blankets back up, gently tucking Jackson in. He cuddles the dingy yellow unicorn against his chest and closes his eyes for half a second before opening them again.
“Are you still here?” he asks, voice thin.
“Yes,” I assure him. “I am.”
“Can you sleep without Ray?” He eyes the unicorn, face tight. “You can have him if you need him.”
“He’s yours now,” I say with a smile. “I think he’ll have more fun hanging out in your room with your other toys than he did sitting alone on my bed.”
Jackson nods. “And you’re kind of old to have toys.”
I laugh and lean forward, kissing his forehead. “I suppose I am. Try to get some sleep, buddy.” Smoothing out his blankets, I get up to leave.
“Scarlet?” Jackson sits up right before I close the door.
“Yeah?”
He twists the frayed yarn that makes up Ray’s mane through his fingers. “Will I always be scared of the dark?”
“No,” I say with a shake of my head. I go back into his room and sit on the edge of his bed. “You won’t be. I used to be scared of the dark, you know.”
“You were?”
“Yeah. But I’m not anymore.”
“How do you stop being scared of the dark?” His eyes meet mine, and something pulls on my heart. I look at him and see everything a child should be. Innocent. Playful. Pure. Kind-hearted and carefree. It’s then I realize that I’ll do anything to keep him that way, to make sure he lives the best life he can, the life he deserves to live.
It’s then that I realize I love him.
“I don’t really know,” I start. My eyes flutter shut, and I think of my own life, of the darkness that grew around me, suffocating and deafening at the same time. The darkness that spread so deep within, it turned everything inside of me black, and the numbness took over, like poison ivy twisting on vines, wrapping around my head and eventually my heart.
I think of the numbness that was so vast and hallow it reverberated through my soul with an emptiness that hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced. That isolated me and made me feel alone even when I was standing in a room full of people. That made me do bad things just so I’d feel anything other than nothing.
I open my eyes and Jackson clicks on his flashlight. The tightness in my chest releases and it’s here, in this moment, I realize how I stopped being afraid of the dark.
“You stop being afraid of the dark when you learn how to make your own light.”
Jackson tips his head. “Like my flashlight.”
“Yes,” I say, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “Like your flashlight.”
“Can I keep it on all night?”
“Of course. And I’ll be just downstairs in the kitchen. I have dishes to wash. But if you need me, call for me and I’ll be back here.”
“Okay. I love you, Scarlet.”
I smile, heart pounding inside my chest. “Love you, too, buddy.”
24
Weston
Fuck. Me. I’m in trouble.
It’s Friday night, and while I’m still not at one hundred percent, I agreed to go out with everyone to Getaway tonight. And I mean everyone. Logan and Owen are there already, of course. Dean and Kara are going, as well as Quinn and Archer. Quinn invited Scarlet to hang out with her and her friend Jamie, and I can tell Scarlet’s looking forward to it.
“Ready?” Scarlet asks, coming down the stairs as if she has no idea she looks like a temptress. Swallowing hard, I shift my weight to hide my hardening cock. It’s going to be one hell of a night. She curled her hair and is wearing a simple, curve-hugging black dress and heels. My mind jumps ahead, and I imagine myself pushing her up against the wall. I can almost feel her legs around me as I inch the hem of her black dress up and over her ass.
Dammit. Now I have an erection.
“Just a second,” I mumble and go into the kitchen, clenching the muscles in my thighs to try and get rid of this thing. I open the fridge, pretending to dig around for something to eat until my cock goes down.
“Are you seriously eating again?” Scarlet asks, voice coming from behind me.
“I’m always hungry.”
She laughs. “We literally just ate.”
And we did. I put the food away while Scarlet brushed her teeth upstairs. I waste some more time before grabbing an apple and closing the fridge. Feeling like a teenage boy at the risk of popping a boner just from looking at a hot girl, I grab my coat and hold it in front of me as we walk to my Jeep.
“It was nice of your parents to watch Jackson tonight,” she comments.
“Yeah. I think my mom misses having him around even though it made it hard for her to do her job.”
“I can see that. He’s a great kid.”
We get in and we both reach for the radio at the same time. The slight feeling of Scarlet’s skin against mine sends a jolt right to the tip of my cock. She took such good care of me when I was sick, balancing helping me out but not being overbearing. Every minute I’m around her puts me more and more at risk for spilling my guts. Or maybe I’ll cut through all the verbal nonsense and kiss her.
Again.
But this time I won’t stop.
* * *
“Strike out alread
y?” I ask Logan, taking a drink of my beer.
“Not as bad as you,” he fires back, pulling out a chair and joining me at the table. “Though we think you’re holding out for your new nanny.”
I shake my head, flicking my eyes to Scarlet. She’s sitting at the bar with Quinn, Kara, and Jamie, sipping a vodka tonic and laughing at something Quinn just said. “She’s Jackson’s nanny. I’m not getting involved with her.”
“I’ll get involved with her,” Owen says, coming up behind us. He’s on his third—maybe fourth—beer already.
“No,” I say a little too sternly. Dammit. “Besides…you seemed to be getting involved with the chick in the leopard skirt.”
Owen grins. “Yeah, I am.” He motions for Logan to follow him. “Her friend thinks I’m hot, which translates into thinking you’re hot. Kind of. We might look alike, but I have the winning personality.”
Logan brings his beer to his lips and doesn’t say anything. Owen stands there, looking at Logan as if there’s something seriously wrong with him. I lean back, always amused by these two.
“Nah, I’m staying here.” Logan rests his arms on the table, taking another swig of beer.
“What the fuck?” Owen’s eyes widen.
Logan shrugs. “I’m not feeling a one-night stand tonight.” He flicks his eyes to mine, knowing I understand where he’s coming from. With Dean married and Quinn engaged and planning her wedding, thoughts of settling down are hanging heavy above him too.
“Are you sick?” Owen sinks into the chair next to Logan. “Should I get Archer?”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Fuck you. Don’t you want something more?”
“As long as I’m getting laid, I’m happy,” Owen says, and I believe him. Sometimes I wish I could be as carefree as him, but having a kid changed all that. Jackson is my world, and I won’t even think about bringing anyone new into our lives unless it’s the real deal.
Logan shifts his gaze to the girls Owen was talking to. “Don’t you want someone a little more…uh…cultured?”
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