Fight Dirty: A Dawson Family Novel

by Goodwin, Emily

  Looking dejected, Owen nods and plops down onto the couch. I take a lingering look at him and then leave, not saying another word. My heart is in my throat, and I wish I could cough it up, getting rid of it once and for all. That thing has let me down over and over again.

  I’m smart. Rational. I can see both sides to every story and am able to look at arguments with an unbiased opinion. It’s what makes me a good lawyer. I get my clients as well as those we’re opposing, giving me a leg up on whatever case I’m working.

  Is it sad to say I miss it? That I’m craving a good argument in front of a judge? I need a win in life right now, because I’m feeling like the biggest loser. And not in a good way.

  Chapter 16

  Charlie

  “Sorry, sweetpea,” I tell Tulip, who’s pathetically meowing by the bedroom door. “You can’t go out there. We’re both stuck in here.”

  I open my laptop, set on watching a movie and passing out. I just got back from taking Owen home, and his big truck is parked out in front of the house. It’s only a matter of time before someone asks me about it, and I’ll have to reiterate my story about how Owen is still the same carefree—or careless—boy he was back when we were together.

  Not even ten minutes into the movie, someone knocks on the door.

  “You decent?” Carly asks.

  “Yes,” I tell her. She opens the door, and one of the dogs dashes in before she can grab her. Tulip limps under the bed and my heart about falls out of my chest. Fuck, we need to get out of here. Maybe I’ll rent a room in the only bed and breakfast in Eastwood. It would still be cheaper to live there for a month and a half than it would be to rent my NYC apartment for a week.

  “Sorry,” she says, shoving the dog into the hall. “Owen is here.”

  “What?”

  “He’s at the door, asking for you.”

  “Owen?” I repeat. He was borderline passed out when I left. There’s no way he pulled himself together to get here already. And I have his truck. “Are you sure?”

  “I think so.”

  Shaking my head, I close my laptop and get up. Carly opens the door, ready for the dogs this time. We both make it out without further traumatizing my poor cat. Someone is in the foyer downstairs, and from behind, he does look like Owen. But the second he turns, I know it’s Logan.

  “Hey.”

  “Logan…hey. What are you doing here?” I go down the last steps.

  “I was hoping to talk for a minute.”

  “Uh, sure. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m hoping it will be.” He gives me a smile, and I motion to the porch.

  “Is Owen—”

  “He’s sleeping, but he’s fine.”

  “Good.” I step onto the porch and close the door behind us. “I see he’s the same as ever.”

  “He’s not. Danielle is pregnant,” Logan tells me.

  “Oh, wow. Congrats. That’s exciting!”

  “No one else knows yet. She had a miscarriage a few months ago, so we’re not sharing the news until she gets an ultrasound this time. Owen knows, though.”

  “That’s why he drank all her drinks.”

  Logan nods. “Danielle is a fan of booze. The first thing my mom would have asked if she saw her not drinking was if she was pregnant. They know we’ve been trying since she lost the last baby.”

  I mess with my hair, tightening and then loosening my ponytail. “That was…was annoyingly noble of him then.” I blink, not sure how to process everything. “And I’m so sorry to hear about your loss.”

  “Thanks. It was really hard on Danielle, which is why she’s being so cautious now.”

  “Oh, I totally understand. Well, not totally since I’ve never been pregnant, but I can only imagine.”

  Logan nods. “Don’t give up on him yet.” He pats my shoulder and looks at the car. “Danielle’s not feeling well, so we’re going to head home, but I wanted to at least let you know why he seemed like a raging alcoholic tonight.” He gives me a smile that almost mirrors Owen’s cocky grin. “Maybe a second chance is on the horizon?”

  I laugh. “Fat chance. What we had…” I shake my head. “It was a once in a lifetime kind of thing.”

  His eyes go to the car, looking at Danielle through the window. “Well, you never know.”

  “Sure,” I say, not wanting him to press this anymore. My resolve is crumbling, and I’m desperately reaching and picking up broken pieces from the ground. I loved Owen with everything I had. More than I loved myself. Way more than I loved Todd.

  I can’t risk being hurt by him again.

  “And I won’t say anything about the baby,” I tell Logan as he takes a step toward the porch steps. “Congrats again. I’ll keep you guys in my thoughts.”

  “Thanks.” He smiles. “We have a good feeling about this one.”

  “You’ll make a good dad,” I tell him and mean it.

  “It’s kind of scary to think about, but thanks.” He dashes down the porch steps, going around to the driver’s side of his car. Danielle gives me a little wave as they pull away from the house, and I’m left there feeling bad for jumping to conclusions. But does this mean Owen really has changed?

  I suppose there’s only one way to find out.

  “Was that Owen?” Carly asks as soon as I open the front door.

  “That was Logan.”

  “They look so much alike.”

  “Well, they are identical twins,” I laugh.

  Carly glances into the living room, where her kids are watching a movie. “Did you ever get them mixed up and accidentally sleep with the wrong twin?”

  “You’ve watched too much cheap porn.”

  “So you’re saying yes, that did happen? Or maybe you really knew all along but went with it anyway?”

  “Cheap, badly written porn.”

  “Ohhh, or maybe you did them both at the same time!”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “No, no, and no. I don’t think they’d be into incest in that way.”

  “But is it really?”

  “Stop reading the Jamie and Cersei fan fiction, please.”

  “Hey, I haven’t read any of that in like a year,” she laughs. “But what did Logan want?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing important.”

  “If you say so.” Giving me one last look, Carly goes into the living room to tell her kids it’s almost bedtime. They protest and I dash up the stairs before I get caught in the crossfire. I like being the cool aunt but won’t go against Carly’s parenting. She’s an awesome mom, and one day those kids are going to realize it.

  Back in my room, I change out of my dress and put on comfy shorts and an oversized t-shirt with Disney villains on it. After washing off my makeup, brushing out my hair, and brushing my teeth, I get back into bed to finish the movie. This time, I make it another ten minutes before I close my laptop again.

  I don’t know if Owen needs his truck in the morning. Or if he’s feeling sick right now.

  “Stop it,” I tell myself, knowing I’m trying to come up with excuses to go see him. Putting my head in my hands, I rub my eyes and think about him. Of his deep brown eyes. His perfectly messy hair. The ripples of muscles over his chest. His abs. That sharp V on his waist…

  “I need help,” I tell Tulip and flop back on the bed. Wrestling with the desire to go drive back to Owen’s, I get up and slip out the door. I trip over one of the dogs in the dark hall.

  “Sorry,” I say, not sure which one I tripped over. They look exactly alike in the daytime. It’s impossible to tell them apart at night. Nevertheless, the dog follows me downstairs and into the kitchen. I grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, pull out the stopper, and put it to my lips.

  I chug just enough to prevent me from driving anywhere.

  “There,” I say, satisfied with my inability to go over to see Owen, though the wine is going to make me want to even more. I put the bottle back only to take it back out again and carry it upstairs.

  Tulip tries to
dash out of the room when I go back in. Poor cat. I hate that she’s been confined to one room…and that her litter box is on the other side of my nightstand. It’s only temporary. We’ll get through this.

  I settle back into bed, drink wine from the bottle, and fire up the movie again. I’m feeling sleepy when one of the dogs paws at the door, startling me. Tulip growls, which makes the dogs start whining. I assume they’ll settle down in a few minutes.

  They don’t.

  By the morning, everyone is cranky and annoyed by the dogs barking. Carly brought them into her room, which is when the barking started…and never stopped. How the dogs didn’t run out of energy is beyond me.

  Dad grumbles throughout breakfast and Mom gives him the side-eye the whole time. I’m going into the office with Dad this morning and refill my coffee twice before I’m dressed and ready to go.

  “Hey, Dad?” I ask as we head out of the house. Heat creeps up the back of my neck, making me feel like a teenager. “Can you pick me up from Owen’s house? I, uh, need to drop off his truck.”

  Dad stops short, turning and raising one eyebrow. “Why do you have Owen’s truck?”

  “I, uh, went to dinner at his parents’ last night and drove myself home.”

  “Yeah, kiddo, I can pick you up.” Dad looks at me for a few seconds. “You know, I always liked Owen.” He starts forward again, and what he doesn’t say screams louder than anything just spoken.

  But it doesn’t matter, because Owen and I had our chance and it didn’t work out. Trying again will only end in heartache.

  Chapter 17

  Owen

  Groaning, I roll over and open my eyes. Did I just imagine that or did the—yep, the doorbell did ring, and now it’s ringing again. Tossing back the covers, I get up. My mouth is dry and my head hurts.

  Fuck, I’m getting old. I haven’t had a hangover in a while, which is almost impressive considering how much I drink. But chugging moonshine like tequila shots…never again. Plowing my hand through my hair, I make my way out of the master bedroom and down the stairs. Someone is standing on the porch, and I’m not in the mood for whatever it is they’re selling. Usually, I ignore solicitors until they go away, but this morning I feel like telling them ringing the doorbell around eight AM is fucking rude.

  Not caring that I’m only wearing boxers—I plan to just crack the door open anyway—I unlock the front door. Instead of an old guy in a suit asking if I’ve found Jesus, Charlie stands before me.

  “Hey,” I say, blinking in the sunlight. She’s the last person I expected to see standing on my porch this early in the morning.

  “Owen. Hi.” Her eyes sweep over my body, reminding me I’m only wearing boxers.

  “Miss seeing me half-naked in the mornings?” My lips pull up in a smirk.

  She purses her lips and holds out my truck keys. “Those days are long behind us.”

  “They don’t have to be.” I open the door all the way and inch toward the door frame. “And about last night,” I start.

  She holds up her hand. “It’s okay. Logan stopped by and told me why you were drinking Danielle’s drinks. There was probably a better way to go around it, but it was nice that you were trying to help her out.”

  My heart does a weird flutter thing inside my chest. “Was that a compliment?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. Still doesn’t change anything, but at least I know you’re not a raging alcoholic or something.”

  “I’m only a raging alcoholic when I think about how much I fucked things up between us. I miss you, Charlie.” The words come out like vomit and the look on Charlie’s face isn’t much different than if I upchucked all over her expensive-looking shoes.

  “Owen.” Her eyes go to the ground and she shakes her head. “I can’t do this, okay? Not with everything else I have going on.”

  I swallow hard, feeling like I might actually throw up now. If she says the words, it’s over. Or at least that’s how it feels. I’m not an all hope is lost kind of person. I usually get what I want. I refuse to give up until I do.

  Charlie is no exception.

  I can’t make her love me, but I can try my damnedest.

  “Well, whenever you’re ready then, Charlie. I’ll wait.”

  She hands me my keys, blinks tears out of her eyes and nods. “Take care of yourself, Owen.”

  I hate how that sounds like a goodbye.

  “Charlie,” I blurt. “Wait.”

  She stops mid-turn and looks back into my eyes. Sunlight reflects off her shiny blonde hair, which is pulled away from her face with a black headband. She’s dressed like a lawyer today, and while her pencil skirt and blouse are very office-appropriate, she looks like she could have sauntered off the set of a naughty librarian adult film. I’m only wearing boxers and can’t risk my mind going to the gutter. It’ll be too obvious that she’s turning me on.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we try dinner again? Come here and I’ll cook for you.”

  Her face doesn’t show any emotion, but her eyes glimmer in the sun. “You cook now?”

  I chuckle. “I do live on my own.”

  “I thought your mom sent you leftovers every day,” she teases.

  “She would deliver me meals twice a day if I let her.”

  Charlie laughs. “She’s a good mom.”

  “She is. So dinner tonight?”

  “Not tonight. I’m really tired already.”

  “The day just began.”

  “I know.” She pushes her hair over her shoulder. “My sister’s dogs are going to be the death of me. Well, not really, but quite possibly my cat.”

  “My offer still stands. You’re welcome here. As a friend.”

  She smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Owen. I, uh, I…” She runs her eyes over me again and a slight flush covers her cheeks. “I need to go. I’m working with my dad today.”

  “Have fun lawyer-ing.”

  Her smile widens. “I actually will. I’m really looking forward to going back to work and arguing with people.”

  She’s joking, but I can only imagine how it would feel to get your ass handed to you—legally, of course—by someone like Charlie. I bet when she walks into a courtroom, her opposition sees her as easy, as nothing more than a pretty face. And then the Pitbull in her comes out.

  She’s always been like that, standing up for what she believes in, and she doesn’t back down or get shaken. Her sweet disposition makes her unsuspecting, and those who go against her are often not prepared.

  Including me.

  I had no idea how fast I’d fall for her. How deeply I’d love her. How she’d become my whole moon and stars and reason for living.

  Until she was gone.

  “I’ll see you later,” she says, and I like that much better. It’s not a goodbye, yet I’m still not sure I believe her. Watching her dash down the driveway and into her dad’s Lexus, I don’t step back inside or close the door until she’s out of view.

  I go into the kitchen, turn on the coffee pot, and find something to eat. I don’t have to work today and should go back to sleep. My head still hurts, my stomach is unsettled, but I’m starting to think it has less to do with the booze and more to do with the feeling that I’m never going to have another chance with Charlie.

  I need a leg up. Do some sort of grand romantic gesture. She said she wants me to prove to her I’ve changed, and I’m going to do it. Taking my coffee onto the screened-in porch off the back of my house, I watch the water from the fountain in the pond rise and fall.

  Trading my coffee for my phone, I text Quinn to see if she’s awake. As soon as she replies, I call her.

  “Are you okay?” she answers.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You never call this early. You’re never awake this early.”

  “Charlie just left.”

  Quinn gasps. “She stayed the night?”

  “No, she brought my truck back to me after driving me home and then taking herself home last nigh
t.”

  “Ouch. That wasn’t your finest hour. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about that. But I have a favor to ask.”

  “I’m not building you a sex robot.”

  I laugh. “How’d you know that’s what I wanted? Can you make it look like Charlie?”

  “Gross, Owen.”

  “Dean said you were able to look at Charlie’s social media accounts even though she has them all set to private. Could you possibly look at them again?”

  “I can, but why?”

  The sunlight reflects off the water, blinding me and making my eyes water. “I want to get her back, Quinn. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to her I’m not the same guy I was before.”

  “So, having your little sister internet stalk her is your answer?”

  “Technically, yes. I mean no. I invited her over for dinner and was hoping she posted about a restaurant or a meal she liked or something so I could make it for her.”

  “That’s actually pretty sweet. And yes, I’ll look through her profiles. She accepted my friend requests so it takes the creep factor way down.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll text you if I find out anything. I hope this works. You two were so good together.”

  “We were. And we will be again.”

  I end the call, finish my coffee, and get up to go to the gym. Working out always makes me feel better. I mostly lift but decide to hit the cardio today to burn off steam, which ends up leaving me feeling like shit after waking up hungover.

  I go home, shower, and fall asleep in bed watching TV. I wake up to a text message from Quinn, saying Charlie’s posted about some fancy pasta dish from the same restaurant a few times. Quinn went so far as to find a “copycat recipe” of the sauce for me and sent a bunch of wine pairing suggestions.

  She’s the best little sister I could ask for.

  I reply with a thanks and then get up. I try to devote one day a week to getting shit done, and it’s usually on the day I don’t work. Then the house is somewhat cleaned, groceries are stocked, and my laundry is done and, well, not folded and put away if I’m being honest. But at least the clean pile is separate from the dirty, right?