Fight Dirty: A Dawson Family Novel

by Goodwin, Emily

  “Shut your mouth,” she snaps and picks up the wine, downing the rest. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “Wait,” I say, putting my hand over hers before she walks away. “Stay. You obviously came here for a reason.”

  Logan, able to sense what’s going on, I’m sure, comes up behind me.

  “Hey, Charlie,” he says, all smiley and happy. Right. Charlie doesn’t drive everyone crazy. Just me.

  “Hey, Logan,” she replies with a smile just as big. “I heard you got married. Congrats.”

  “Thanks. I’m a lucky guy. Danielle is everything I could ever want.”

  “That’s really sweet.”

  Logan refills her wine glass. “And I’m sorry to hear about, uh, what happened.”

  Charlie watches the wine fill her glass. “Thanks. It’s all for the best though, right? Gotta find that silver lining.”

  “Right.” Logan steps to the side, handling Ms. Designer Tits, who’s now freaking out a bit that Logan and I are identical twins. It happens all the time, and usually I use it to my advantage.

  “You said you want quiet,” I go on, studying Charlie’s pretty face. “Everything okay on the home front?”

  She takes another sip of wine. “Oh, it’s fine. Just…busy.”

  “Busy?”

  “My sister’s house sold in record time and the buyer wanted to close as soon as possible. Which meant my sister and her family needed somewhere to stay until their new house is built.”

  “Which will be a few months at best.”

  “Exactly.” She takes another sip of wine. “So right now it’s me, my sister, her husband, her three children, their dogs, and my cat all crammed in with my parents. I have a deposit down on an apartment, but it won’t be open until the end of next month.” She brings her fingers to her temple. “It’s a first world problem, I know. But my God, I’ve never hated my sister so much as I do right now.”

  I laugh. “It’s rough being crammed together like that. There’s nowhere else for you to go?”

  She slowly shakes her head. “The three rental properties available were not cutting it. But it’s fine…I just need to tough it out for another month.” She drains the rest of the wine.

  Charlie is in a weird situation. She’s smart, probably has a decent amount of money in the bank. I have no idea what she’s doing for work right now, but if she wanted to get another city job, I’m sure she would. Taking over her father’s firm was always her plan…maybe that’s why she’s sticking around town. Her father has to be getting close to retiring.

  The rentals in Eastwood are shit. They were back when I graduated from college and didn’t want to live at home anymore, and they still are today. The only apartment complex here is decent enough but isn’t very large and I’m not surprised to hear it’s full.

  “You could come stay with me,” I offer before I get a chance to fully think about it. “We both know my house is more than big enough.”

  Charlie looks at me, blinking. “No fucking way, Owen,” she laughs. “I am not living with you.”

  “Why?” I rest my elbows on the bar. “What are you afraid of? That you’d get in behind closed doors and wouldn’t be able to resist me?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s my main worry.” She rolls her eyes.

  “What is your main worry then?”

  “That I’ll get arrested for murder because living with you would be worse than living with my entire extended family.”

  “Ouch, that was harsh.”

  “Fine, I wouldn’t kill you. Just do major bodily harm.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows. “That sounds like something I might enjoy.”

  “You are impossible,” she sighs. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  I shrug. “Why not, though? I have the space. Ever since Logan moved out, the house has seemed kinda empty anyway. Don’t tell him, but I miss Dexter, his dog, more than him.”

  Charlie’s eyes start to narrow as she looks at me. “I’m not stupid, Owen.”

  “I never thought you were. Not ever once.”

  Her hard glare softens. “I…I know. But…no. I’m not moving in with you.”

  “Don’t think of it as moving in, more as me swooping in and coming to the rescue. You can crash at my place until the apartment is ready for you. No strings, no expectations. Though we both know you’ll be crawling into my bed at night.”

  “Seriously?”

  My tongue darts out, wetting my lips. Charlie’s eyes flick down to it, and she pushes her shoulders back in a subconscious way to try to make it seem like she’s holding it all together.

  And maybe she really is. Or maybe…maybe she’s feeling what I’m feeling too. It’s a long shot, but fuck, I want to take it.

  “The offer is on the table,” I tell her and step away for a minute to take care of a few other customers. In the minute I’m gone, she somehow slips away and is nowhere to be seen.

  Then it hits me, and I wonder what the hell was I thinking? Asking Charlie to live with me? To sleep in the room next to me. Eat breakfast by my side. Watch late night TV together like we’re friends.

  I will never be just friends with Charlie, and having her so close yet so far would hurt.

  Not being able to touch her. Not hold her. Not tell her how I feel and rub her back until she falls asleep. Not being able to bring her coffee in the morning.

  It would kill me. Then again, when I think back to these last few years without Charlie, I don’t know how alive I’ve really been. Maybe…maybe I’m already dead. I haven’t been living, just surviving.

  And she’s the only one who can revive my non-beating heart.

  Chapter 11

  Charlie

  I can’t believe I’m even considering this. I spent the night tossing and turning, thinking about Owen’s words. Living with him would be stupid. He’s my ex-boyfriend.

  But also…he’s my ex-boyfriend.

  Sounds the same, I know, but I promise it’s not. He’s my ex, as in we’re over. Done. The final curtain has been called. The major TV network canceled our show and no amount of protests and signatures can get us back.

  I don’t like to turn down any sort of challenge, and my competitive nature makes me a damn good lawyer but doesn’t always lead me to make the best personal choices.

  And. I. Know. This.

  So why am I lying here in bed, kicking the sheets off for the millionth time, feeling like Owen is going to come out feeling like he won? That by me refusing his offer of crashing at his place until the apartment opens up, I’m admitting that I still have feelings for him?

  Tulip paws at the door, wanting out of the bedroom. Internally groaning, I get out of bed and consider getting an apartment in Newport, the next town over. They’ll have spaces available, that’s for sure. But I start unofficial work at the firm next week, and I’m currently carless since I didn’t need one in the city. Dad offered to let me drive his 1965 Mustang around town, but it hasn’t been fully restored and starts to shake when it goes over thirty miles an hour, which is obviously a safety issue and can’t be driven on the highway. Around town, it’s fine. But getting me from Newport to Eastwood…yeah. Wouldn’t happen.

  I’ll have to get a car before I can move out of Eastwood, and since I’m technically unemployed, I have no idea what kind of loan I’ll be able to get. I have a decent amount of “oh shit” money saved in my bank account, but I don’t think I’m ready to take it out just yet.

  Especially when I have options.

  Like put up living in this super-crowded house for another month while risking ruining the surprisingly good relationship I’ve had my entire life with my sister. It’s really not that bad. Many people have it way worse, and I’m lucky to have a free place to live with a loving family.

  We have clean water, food in the panty, and a safe place to spend our days.

  I should count my blessings…and really, I do. But after living on my own and then again with Todd, which was really like living on my own since I
did everything around the apartment, living with two other families is grating my nerves.

  Which leads me to consider Owen’s offer.

  It’s temporary.

  It wouldn’t mean anything.

  He was right, he does have plenty of space.

  And I’ll work during the day and he’ll work at night. We’ll hardly see each other. Maybe it could work.

  Maybe…or maybe not.

  Tulip darts out of the room as soon as the door opens. I leave it cracked and get back into bed. It’s nearing four in the morning and I haven’t come close to falling asleep yet. At least I don’t have to be up early.

  I finally fall asleep when the sun starts to come up, and am woken up only an hour later to Jack pulling my makeup bag off my dresser. It comes crashing down, startling both of us.

  Justin runs in after him, face turning beet red when he sees me in just a t-shirt and underwear.

  “I am so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, gritting my teeth when I see my expensive eye shadow pallet upside down on the ground. “I was the one who left my door cracked for the cat.”

  Justin scoops up his youngest son and turns away. I grab my robe and quickly slip it on. My shirt is long and really, I’ve worn a bikini way more revealing than this.

  “I’ll come back and clean that up,” he offers.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “I got it.”

  Justin pries a beauty blender out of Jack’s hands and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him. With a sigh, I drop to my knees. One of my blushes is cracked, but it’s one I hardly ever use since it’s too red for my skin tone. The eye shadow pallet was new and thank goodness survived. I zip everything up and put it in the closet, closing the door behind me.

  I throw on leggings and a bra and go downstairs for coffee, which I desperately need. Libby is having a meltdown about not wanting to go potty, and Jack is screaming because he wants to go back into my room.

  It’s loud and my head hurts. Rubbing my temples, I go right for the coffee pot, only to realize it’s empty.

  “Oh, sorry,” Justin says, zooming into the kitchen. He’s getting ready to go to work. “Filled up my to-go mug and forgot to put in more water. Want me to—”

  “I got it,” I tell him with a smile. “Don’t be late for work.”

  “Thanks.” He breezes out of the house, handing off Jack to my mom.

  “You’re up early,” she says with a smile.

  “Kinda hard to sleep in.” I take Jack from her and make silly faces to try and get him to stop crying. He pulls my hair instead, but at least it gets him to settle down, right?

  “I was clearing out the basement to make a little play area for the kids,” Mom starts as she refills the coffee pot. “And I came across a box of old photos. There are some real gems in there. The box is in the living room.”

  I take Jack and go into the living room to look through the photos as I wait for more coffee. Sitting front and center on top of the pile is my senior prom photo. Owen’s arm is around me, and he’s looking away from the camera and at me.

  Man, we look so young. And happily in love.

  Because we were.

  Jack toddles off, finding the toy bin in the corner of the room. I sit on the couch and flip through the old photos. There are more of me from high school, and as soon as I flip to a snapshot from graduation, my stomach starts to feel funny.

  Oh, how I’d give anything to be that carefree again. Though I wouldn’t want to go back to high school. In the photo, I’m standing in between Logan and Owen. Logan’s girlfriend at the time is on his other side, and both of Owen’s arms are wrapped around me. Our friends hated how affectionate we were, and that continued on through college, even when we were going to different schools.

  That I can’t keep my hands to myself phase never ended for us.

  I flip through the photos, laughing when I see one of us on a family vacation from the early nineties. Mom’s hair was amazingly poofy.

  Suddenly, one of the dogs barks, startling me and setting Tulip off in a panic. She tears across the living room, seeking shelter under the coffee table. Chewy barrels after her, knocks over a lamp, and barks. Tulip shoots forward but is caught by Ray, the other—and bigger dog.

  Tulip yowls and Ray pounces again, landing with both paws on my poor little cat. It’s pure chaos for a minute, and I might have screamed a time or two. But by the time we get the dogs off Tulip, it’s obvious something is wrong with her.

  I’m in tears as Mom wraps her in a blanket and rushes with me out the door, speeding through town to get to the vet. An hour—and a large bill—later, I leave my cat under the vet’s care.

  She has a broken leg, one bite on her neck, and is battered, bruised and stressed to the max. They’re keeping her under observation for a few days, and then when I bring her home, she’ll have to be kept calm and away from the dogs.

  But even if she’s locked in my bedroom, the poor thing is going to be terrified.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mom tells me as I pull my seatbelt over my lap.

  “It’s not your fault. Carly should have trained her stupid dogs better.”

  “I won’t agree or disagree,” Mom says gently. “But even the vet thinks they were just trying to play.”

  “I know.” I rub my eyes. “She’s so little compared to the dogs.”

  “We’ll figure something out. Maybe the dogs can stay outside during the day.”

  “As mad as I am at them, I don’t want to stick those dogs out in the heat. Send them away to dog boot camp…yeah, that’s a good idea. Carly is lucky those things haven’t hurt one of her kids.”

  Mom, who never wants to say anything bad about either of us—even when it’s obvious, shakes her head again. “I’ll suggest training. The dogs could learn manners.”

  “They need more than manners.” I’m pissed, already out a thousand bucks and I know the bill will double by the time I get Tulip back, and know I’m going to blow up the moment I see my sister.

  I look out the window at the barn and small pasture behind the vet’s office. For the sake of saving my relationship with Carly, I need out of that house.

  And I only have one option…which might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Then again, I’ve based most of my adult life on what I should do. What’s right and what makes sense. Todd was a Vivian Kensington while Owen was an Elle Woods, and given that we were both lawyers, it seemed fitting. It was logical. Rational, even.

  Maybe it’s time I throw logic out the window and trust my instincts…and leap.

  Chapter 12

  Owen

  “Rumor has it you haven’t taken anyone home with you in over a week.” Logan unlocks the office door and looks at me over his shoulder. We just got to Getaway and are getting ready to open for the day.

  “What, you’re keeping tabs on my sex life now?”

  “Someone has to. You certainly aren’t.”

  “I lost count years ago.”

  Logan rolls his eyes and pulls out the desk chair, sitting in front of the computer. “I’m sure your lack of fucking has nothing to do with Charlie being back in town.”

  “Why would it?”

  “Because you want to fuck her.”

  “Of course I want to fuck her,” I shoot back. “Have you seen her?”

  “She’s more than a piece of ass to you.”

  I make a big deal out of checking the schedule hanging on the wall, even though I know it. Charlie is more than a piece of ass. She’s always been, and she always will be. I’d do anything to get her back. And fuck…that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  “You’re right,” I tell Logan, who looks surprised by my confession. “I do want to fuck her, but I want more. She’s single now and doesn’t seem too torn up over her ex. I’m going to make her fall in love with me again. Next time I see her, I’m sweeping her off her goddamn feet.”

  “Easy tiger. That’s not exactly something you can do i
n a day.”

  “Have you seen me? Shit, you do every time you look in the mirror. Well, the slightly less attractive version of me, that is.”

  Logan chuckles, and I half expect him to drop some line about how I use humor to deflect my feelings, but he’s extra perceptive today and keeps his mouth shut. Leaving the office, I go to the bar, pour myself a shot of whiskey and start setting up to open.

  I ended our relationship because we wanted different things. She wanted someone ready to settle down. Someone more responsible and mature than recent-college grad-Owen. And I’ll be the first to admit I was a little shithead back then. I might still be, but I’m a changed man.

  And I’m going to prove that to her, no matter what it takes.

  Setting the last chair up, I go into the kitchen, make sure everything is good to go, and then unlock the door and flick on the neon open sign. It’s Friday, and we’re always busy on the weekends, even for lunch.

  Never in a million years did I think Getaway could have grown into something this big, and Logan and I were tossing around the idea of building an addition not that long ago. Opening for lunch and dinner was a genius idea, and while I didn’t like working all those extra hours at first, it’s more than paid off. We still serve drinks, but this place is family-friendly during daytime hours.

  We’re packed, with people waiting for a table by the time seven o’clock rolls around. Logan left to help Danielle close down the bakery, and I’ve been ready to leave and hand the place over to Barry, one of the bartenders, but have stayed to help get through the rush.

  And it’s a good thing, because she walks in, and I swear the whole place goes silent for a moment, like the building holds its breath as she walks through the doors. Charlie makes a beeline to the bar, snagging a stool.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me for long,” I tell her, reaching for a wine glass.

  “No thanks,” she says, shaking her head at the wine glass. “I don’t want anything to drink today.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot how alcohol makes you frisky.”