Fight Dirty: A Dawson Family Novel

by Goodwin, Emily

  “That’s pretty much it. We put a lot into Getaway to get it started, and then again recently to turn it into more of a bar and grill instead of just a bar.”

  I nod, feeling like this conversation is contrived and I’m pretty sure I’ve already asked him this.

  “How is it at home with everyone under one roof?”

  I reach for my wine again. “It’s a struggle, and I feel bad saying that.”

  “Why do you feel bad?”

  “It reminds me how privileged I am when I’m complaining about how hard it is to live in my parents’ three-thousand-square-foot house with clean water, air conditioning, and a fully stocked fridge.”

  “Good point. But you’re allowed to recognize that it’s not easy as well. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

  “Yeah, I know. I still feel bad complaining about it, though.”

  “You could just stay here and you won’t have to feel bad,” he suggests.

  I cock an eyebrow. “Nice try.”

  “I really don’t see the harm in it. I have no dogs to terrorize your cat. And my bedroom is down the hall so when you change your mind in the middle of the night, I’m only a few yards away.”

  “I’m not changing my mind. Been there, done that fully applies to us, Owen. It was fun while it lasted, but it’s over.”

  “It can start again.” He leans forward, dropping his eyes to my cleavage. “Don’t tell me you don’t miss it.”

  I swallow hard and somehow that damn glass of wine ends up in my hands again. “Miss what?”

  Smirking, he runs his eyes over me, and I know I just asked the worst possible question. The next best thing to having sex with Owen is hearing him describe it to me.

  “You think I haven’t enjoyed sex since we’ve been together?” I blurt and take another gulp of wine. “I have. Multiple times.”

  “And I have too. Many, many times. Yet no one compares to you, Charlie.”

  Dammit, Owen. I glare at my wine, which is almost empty, and set it back down. Owen refills my glass, and my body is reacting to memories of him. Owen was my first and only for so long. It took me a long time to get back into the dating world after we broke up, and my next sexual encounter is something I actively work to repress.

  My friends convinced me a one-night stand was all I needed to get Owen off my mind. So we went out, I got drunk, and I went home with someone. The sex was good, but once I sobered up and realized what I did, I was totally that girl who cried after sex.

  “Tell me then, was Todd as good as me?” Owen’s top teeth sink into his bottom lip for just half a second. It’s playful and sexy, and I honestly don’t know if he’s aware of exactly what he’s doing or not.

  “He was good enough for me to accept his marriage proposal,” I retort, and the words fall flat. Dammit. It sounded much better in my head. I shove a forkful of pasta in my mouth to keep me from saying anything more.

  Todd and I had a good sex life at first. Kind of. There was a lot of pounding and him fumbling around my vagina, not quite able to find my clit without me guiding his fingers. And then he’d rub it too hard or too fast, but hey, he got the job done most of the time.

  “I suppose I should apologize,” Owen goes on, and that cocky grin shouldn’t turn me on like this. “I set you up for disappointment.”

  “You’re awfully full of yourself for someone who’d only slept with one person at the time.”

  He picks up his own glass of wine and takes a drink. “You’re saying I didn’t satisfy you then?”

  I exhale heavily, shaking my head. And there’s that magic wine glass appearing in my hands again. “Life is about more than sex, you know.”

  “Oh, I do. Sex just makes everything better.”

  Rolling my eyes, I focus on my food. Maybe I should sleep with Owen. Get it out of my system. I’m an adult and can hook up with whoever I want. I look across the table at Owen, feeling the wine start to hit me and make me think having sex is a good idea.

  And then a weather alert on both our phones go off, warning us about a severe thunderstorm.

  “So,” I say and change the subject. “Has Danielle been to the doctor yet?”

  “She goes tomorrow.”

  “That’s exciting. I hope everything is good.”

  “Me too. That’s going to be one good-looking kid at least. Hopefully he’ll look more like his uncle than his father.”

  I look up from my food to see him smiling. “You guys share like ninety-nine percent of the same DNA, right?”

  “According to science we do.”

  “So your kids and Logan’s kids will technically be cousins, but they’ll be as related as siblings?”

  “Maybe?” Owen’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “Archer would know, though I suppose it doesn’t matter until I have a kid of my own.”

  “Do you want kids?” I ask carefully, twirling a noodle around my fork.

  “Yeah, I do,” he replies with no hesitation. “I told myself I didn’t want one, but that was only because the one person didn’t want me anymore. Then I saw you and now things are different.”

  “Really?”

  “I told you, I’ve changed.”

  I let out a shaky breath, feeling my resolve crumble. A loud clap of thunder rattles the windows, and it reverberates deep within my soul.

  “Have you changed?” he asks carefully, and I know what he’s asking. He wants to know if I still want to get married and have babies. I haven’t changed much in that aspect. Starting my career was important to me, but I always imagined I’d do both. It wouldn’t be easy, but I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge.

  “I have,” I say quietly, right as another boom of thunder sounds above us. My stomach flip flops, both from the storm and the direction our conversation is going. Owen, sensing my discomfort, gets up and brings a cake over to the table.

  “You still like red velvet cake, right?”

  Swallowing my emotions, I force a smile. “Yeah. I do.”

  “Good. Because I do too.”

  He serves me a slice once I’ve finished my pasta.

  “So tell me,” I say as I stick my fork into the cake. “Has there been any good drama in Eastwood lately?”

  “Tons. Owning a bar gives me prime people-watching vantage points. Remember Lizzy Mitchel?”

  “Yeah, she was such a stuck-up bitch in high school.”

  Owen laughs. “She’s having an affair with a much younger man.”

  “Ohhh, that is good drama. And I didn’t even think of that, but you’re right. Bars are the place to be to witness drama and hear gossip.”

  “The sad, lonely, and desperate are good for business,” he says with a laugh. “Do you talk with anyone from school anymore?”

  I shake my head. “I lost touch with most of them during law school. I’m friends with Annabeth on Facebook, and Cheryl and I follow each other on Instagram. It’s kinda weird when I think about it. We were so close then. What about you?”

  “Logan and I still hang out with Jake and Tom.”

  “How are they?”

  “Pretty much the same as they were in high school. Tom got married two years ago, though.”

  “It is weird how you grow up and go your separate ways,” I say.

  “That’s one of the good things about having a twin. It’s like a built-in friend I can’t get rid of.”

  I laugh and take another bite. He tells me about more drama he’s witnessed over the years as we finish dessert. Once we’re done eating, I help him clean up the dinner dishes. We get along well and being together feels natural. I don’t realize we’ve slowly been washing the dishes for nearly an hour until I look at the clock, surprised to see how late it’s gotten.

  “I should get going,” I tell him, drying my hands on a dishtowel. “I have to work in the morning.”

  As if right on cue, a huge clap of thunder rings out, making me jump. Lightning flashes and heavy rain falls down. The power flickers twice before the whole
house goes black. Silence fills the dark, and I let out a shaky breath.

  “Maybe you should stay.” Owen turns on the flashlight on his phone and sets it upside down on the counter. “At least until the storm passes.”

  “Yeah, good idea.” I turn around, squinting in the dim light for my own phone. It’s still in my purse, and I take it out to check the radar. The worst of the storm is yet to come, and it makes my stomach tighten just looking at the yellow and green on the map.

  Wind howls outside and the siding on the house groans in protest.

  “If it’s not safe for you to drive, you can stay here,” Owen offers. “As a friend, of course.”

  I look up, swallow hard, and open my mouth to tell him no. But something strange happens again, and this time, nothing comes out. I snap my jaw shut and stare into his brown eyes, unblinking.

  “Charlie?”

  Chapter 19

  Owen

  “Charlie?” I repeat, watching her eyes glaze over. She’s deep in thought, but I have no idea what she’s thinking about. Is she still scared of storms? She used to be terrified of them.

  “Sorry.” Shaking her head, she looks down at her phone. I follow her gaze, watching the radar move across the screen. It looks bad. She definitely shouldn’t be driving. “I’m just…I’m really tired.”

  “I have a guest room and an extra toothbrush if you need it. I can loan you some clothes too.” I tip my head a bit as I look her up and down. “You always looked good in my white t-shirts. With no pants, of course.”

  She doesn’t smile, doesn’t roll her eyes. The lack of response troubles me, making it hard to read her. “I actually have clothes in my car.”

  “Preparing to stay the night with me, I see. I knew you couldn’t have resisted for long.”

  She looks up with a glare. Now there’s that sass I was missing. “I was going to grab a room at the bed and breakfast in town.”

  “With your cat?”

  “She’s quiet. I could have snuck her in.”

  I laugh. “I like this naughty side, Charlie.”

  “Shut up,” she quips.

  “I’ll grab your bag for you,” I offer.

  “It’s pouring rain, you’ll get soaked.”

  I shrug. “I’ll take my clothes off first and then will towel off.”

  Her mouth falls open again, but she quickly recovers. “Let’s hope you don’t get struck by lightning then. Because I’m not dragging your naked body back inside.”

  “You’d leave me out there and cause a spectacle for the neighborhood kids?”

  “Oh, I would. It would be a lesson in what type of stupid shit they shouldn’t do.”

  Chuckling, I pull my shirt over my head only to push her buttons. “Is your car locked?”

  “Of course.”

  Grabbing her keys, I run out through the garage to get her overnight bag from the car. I am soaked by the time I get back inside.

  “Thank you,” she tells me, taking the bag.

  “I’m going to change.”

  “What happened to getting naked?”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

  “You wish. Do you have any candles or anything?”

  “Yeah,” I tell her, wiping my arms dry with the dishtowel from the counter. “In the cabinet next to the sink. There’s a lighter in there with them.”

  I rush up the stairs to change and come down to find a few candles placed around the downstairs.

  “I can do you one better.” I kneel down in front of the fireplace, opening it up and rearranging the logs inside. I haven’t used it in months, and it’s going to get hot in here fast, but at least we’ll have some light. It takes a few tries, but I get a small fire going.

  “Now what?” she asks, sitting on the couch with a bottle of wine.

  “You’re asking me how to entertain ourselves in the dark during a storm?”

  “Owen,” she scolds. “No.”

  “Your loss.”

  She mumbles something that I can’t quite make out. An agreement, maybe? Moving away from the fireplace, I look at the light dancing over Charlie’s face. It’s not right for one person to possess so much beauty, both inside and out.

  “I have an idea.”

  “That involves keeping our clothes on,” she presses.

  “Prude,” I tease and go to the closet next to the downstairs bathroom. Pulling out a stack of board games, I take them into the living room.

  “It won’t be as much fun with just the two of us, but it’s something to do. Unless you think this is lame.”

  Her smile lights up the room brighter than the fire. “No, not lame at all.”

  * * *

  “I hate Monopoly,” I grumble, watching Charlie make it rain with all the fake money she collected after she won the game.

  “Don’t be a sore loser.”

  “I spent the last two hours losing. I’m sore.”

  She waves pink bills in my face and leans back on the couch, laughing. “It’s late.” Yawning, she pushes herself forward and starts putting the game pieces away. “Taking a mini leave from work was boring, but I very much enjoyed sleeping in.”

  “I do too.”

  “Right. You were never a morning person.”

  We pick up the game and she stands, eyes going to the window. The storm quieted down, and I wonder if she’s thinking about leaving. It is late, though, and the power is still out. Eastwood has a lot of the older power lines that get knocked out during windstorms. It wouldn’t surprise me if the way into town was temporarily blocked off anyway.

  “I should get up to bed.”

  “Me too. I work tomorrow as well, but I don’t have to be in until the evening at least.”

  Her eyes meet mine and our gazes linger. Everything inside of me wants to go to her, to pull her close and feel her heart beating up against my chest. But instead, I step aside and let her pass. She picks up her cat and her overnight bag, and heads toward the stairs.

  Using my phone for light, I follow her upstairs and show her the guest room. Then I go back down, put out the fire, and look around the living room.

  Charlie is here.

  In my house.

  In my bed.

  Well, one of my beds. I’ve never wanted anything more, but she’s not just a physical temptation. I drag my ass into my own room, brush my teeth, and sink into bed. My hand falls to my waist, fingers brushing over my cock. I’m not going to hide in my room and jerk it like a teenager, but fuck, I’m getting turned on just thinking about Charlie in that white dress. The sleeves rested off her shoulders, and more than once while she was laughing and leaning forward to move her game piece along the board, one sleeve slipped down a little more.

  The regret for letting her go eats me alive, churning my stomach and filling it with bile. Having her so close yet so far hurts more than I expected, and I need to figure out my next move to make her fall in love with me.

  Though, really, I know there’s no one move that’ll sweep her off her feet. I hurt Charlie. Broke up with her when she thought I was going to offer her more. I told her I didn’t want to be with her when really I didn’t want to let her down. Back then, I saw it as merciful to let her go, thinking she’d move on to bigger and better things.

  The only way to get her back is to prove to her that I really have changed. That this time, I will be not only the man she wants but the one she deserves. Rolling over, I tuck my pillow under my arm and close my eyes. It takes a while, but I eventually drift to sleep…until another weather alert goes off on my phone.

  This time, I shoot up, squinting at the glowing screen as my eyes adjust. It’s a tornado warning. One touched down in Newport and the storm is far from over. I pull up the weather radar and let out a breath of relief. The storm can circle back around at any moment, I know, but for now, it looks like the worst is going to miss us.

  Still, I get out of bed and walk down the hall to the guest room. I crack the door open, not wanting to knock and
wake up Charlie in case she’s still sleeping.

  “Hey,” I say quietly, seeing her sitting up and looking at her phone. “You got the alert too?”

  She nods and looks up. Even in the dark, I can see the fear in her eyes.

  “Are you still scared of tornadoes?” I ask, stepping into the room. I shut the door so the cat doesn’t get out.

  “Terrified.”

  “I think it’s going to miss us.”

  She nods again, pulling her lips around her teeth. “Hopefully.”

  “Want me to sit with you? We can go into the basement if that’ll make you feel better too.”

  “If the sirens go off, I’ll go down. And yeah…I’d, uh, I’d like if you sat with me.”

  Crossing the room, I sit on the opposite side of the bed. Charlie puts her phone down and leans back against the pillows.

  “Do you think it’s pathetic I’m still scared of tornadoes?”

  “No,” I tell her honestly. “They are scary. You can’t do anything to prevent them or stop them. All you can do is hide.”

  “Exactly. And the energy gets me all jittery.” She holds up her hand. “I’m shaking.”

  I take her hand in mine, lacing my fingers through hers. “It’s okay. Try to go back to sleep if you want. I’ll listen for the sirens.”

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Not really. I closed down the bar a few times last week. My sleep schedule is always fucked up.”

  “That would mess with you, I guess.”

  She swallows hard, looking over me and out the window. It’s pitch black out there, and the rain comes down in sheets. Thunder and lightning tear through the sky, and the windows rattle. Charlie squeezes my hand a little tighter.

  “Bad storms tended to break up before they got into the city,” she says. “We had storms, of course, but no tornadoes.”

  “We won’t have one tonight either.” I give her hand a squeeze and settle down next to her. She’s still shaking, and it’s killing me not to comfort her more. Pulling the blankets back up to her shoulders, she wiggles a little closer. I don’t know if it’s on purpose or if she’s trying to get comfortable.

  Heart hammering, I pull my hand from hers and rest it on her waist. The blankets are between my hand and her body, yet it sends a jolt through me. She moves closer again, and this time I know it was intentional. She rests her hand on top of mine and slits her eyes open, looking up at me.