“I’m visiting my dad. I just want breakfast.”
“Oh, gotcha. Sit in section one and I’ll get you.”
I force a smile. “Okay.” I slide into a booth, wishing for my phone to distract myself with. Instead, I pull out a paperback of a book that I’ve already read three times. It was at the top of my suitcase and I didn’t want to rustle through my stuff for another. The floor in the nursing home is gross and sticky. Risking my clothes falling out onto it isn’t something I want to do.
I order tea, bacon, and French toast, and hunker down in the booth, not wanting to be disturbed by anyone or anything as I contemplate the next step in my life. After getting out of the slums the first time and living in the ritzy part of Chicago, it was hard coming back. It’s even harder after Eastwood.
I love that little town.
I have no job now, and with it getting closer and closer to the holidays, I probably won’t be able to find one. With Dad’s medical bills, I’m going to need money. So I guess it’ll be back to the old ways. Just the thought of it makes me feel sick.
Though I’m not as hungry as I should be, I force myself to eat every last bite of food on my plate. Who knows when I’ll get out for lunch, and if I’m going back to Old Scarlet, it’s going to take some time to get on my feet. I won’t have money to burn. Mentally groaning at wasting money on a hotel room for the night, I finish my tea and zip up my coat, leaving Trisha a decent tip.
I trudge my way back to the nursing home, using everything I have inside of me not to think or feel. How did I do this so easily before? Every step hurts, as every footfall reverberates through my heart, jostling the broken pieces. The sharp edges hurt all over again as they slice into me.
Cold rain mists down on me, and I flip the hood up on my coat. Tears well in my eyes, and this time I make no attempt to keep them from falling. I’m sad. Really fucking sad, and it’s mostly my fault.
If I could take everything back, I would. I’d accept the nanny job in good faith and show up to actually do the job I was hired for. Crazy thought, right?
Wiping at my eyes, I enter the nursing home. My feet are sore from walking, and my fingers are cold and numb. I forgot my gloves at Weston’s house as well. They’re in his Jeep, I think.
The entrance of the nursing home opens up to the cafeteria, and right now the smell of coffee and breakfast masks the usual sickening odor of this place. I look around for Dad. He’s not as his regular table and for a minute I think he’d been forgotten in his room. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Corbin comes down the hall, pushing Dad in his new chair.
“Ohhh girl,” he says, coming to a screeching halt.
“I know, I know,” I say with a shake of my head. He’s obviously seen my luggage in Dad’s room. “I’ll explain later. I just…I don’t even know.” I push my hood back and sigh. “I can’t right now.”
Corbin cocks an eyebrow. “Well you better, because there’s a gorgeous hunk of man-meat looking for you.”
“What?”
“Some guy named Weston is here.”
“What?” I say again. This is a dream, right? Wes wouldn’t…he couldn’t…
“I told him to wait in the nurses’ station. It’s the least stinky place here.”
“Yeah…good idea,” I say, still in disbelief.
“Aren’t you going to go to him? Because if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”
Weston is here. He came here for me.
“Scarlet?”
I shake myself and inhale, suddenly nervous. Did he come here to yell at me? No, that doesn’t make sense.
“How do I look?”
“You’ve seen better days,” Corbin says honestly. “But you’re still hot.”
“Thanks.” I wipe my eyes and pull the tie out of my hair. Running my fingers through my messy locks, I hurry down the hall, fingers trembling.
Wes is standing in the nurses’ station with his back to me. The moment I see him, tears spring to my eyes again. He turns as if he can sense me coming.
“Scarlet.”
My name on his lips is the best thing he can say. His brow pinches together with emotion, and he strides forward, long legs bringing him to me. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t question me or raise a finger and start lecturing.
He envelops me in a hug, and I’ve never felt more at home than I do wrapped in his arms. It’s safe. Familiar. Where I’m meant to be.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, fighting back tears.
“I came to find you.”
“Why?”
He runs his hand over my hair and steps back, tipping my chin up. Leaning down, he kisses me, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
“Partly to do that.”
“And the other part?” I slide my hands to his forearms, scared to let go. If I do, he might vanish into a puff of smoke.
“What the hell is going on?” His navy-blue eyes hold back a storm. “You left us.”
As soon as he says it, I realize I did exactly what Daisy did.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, voice breaking. Tears fall like rain, and Wes brings me to his chest, cradling me against him. “I didn’t want to leave, but I had to.”
“Why? Why did you have to leave?”
I sniffle, trying to compose myself. “Daisy came to the house when you were giving Jackson a bath. After he got paint on himself,” I remind Wes. “She threatened to have her sister publish an article in the paper about me that would hurt your chances of winning the election.”
“I knew she did something. She came by thinking you’d convinced me to give her another chance.”
“That was part of her ultimatum, but not even I could go through with that. So I left, and I’m sorry. I just…I couldn’t…”
“It’s okay.”
“No, no, Wes, it’s not. What I did…who I am…” I squeeze my eyes shut.
“So it’s true.” He lets go of me and my heart falls to the floor. “You really are a con artist.”
I can’t look at him. My heart is already shattered into a million pieces on the floor. If I see the disgust or disappointment in his eyes, my soul might break too.
“Yes.”
“And you took the job thinking you’d be able to con me?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
I shake my head, hands shaking and breath coming out in huffs.
“Why?”
Lips quivering, I look up at Wes. “I fell in love with you. And Jackson. I think he stole my heart first if I’m being honest. I tried to resist you as long as I could.” He doesn’t say anything back. His jaw tenses and he looks away. “Do you hate me now?”
“No. Maybe I should, but I don’t.” He takes a step away, bringing his hand to his forehead. “I need some time to think about this.”
“I understand.” I turn to walk away, going back toward Dad’s room to hide from the world.
“Will you come home with me while I think about it?” Wes asks before I get too far.
I whirl around, blinking as if that would make me hear him more clearly. Because I must have misheard.
“Are you sure you want me to come home with you?”
“Yes. I missed you a lot last night. Jackson did too. And I have to work the night shift and could really use a nanny.”
“You still trust me?”
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“That’s fair.” I swallow hard. “I’m not going to scam you.”
“I know. I don’t have much for you to take, anyway.” He gives me a half-smile. “You stayed that first night when you realized I wasn’t a rich doctor. Why?”
I shake my head. “For one, I had nowhere else to go. And from the start, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was something about you and Jackson. You two are the perfect family…and then when I met the rest of your family…” I trail off, eyes filling with tears again. “I’ve wanted a family like that. I didn’t think families like yours actually e
xisted outside of Hallmark movies or fairy tales. You…you made me a better person, Wes. And even if you don’t want anything to do with me ever again, I’ll always be thankful for that.”
Wes takes another step forward, and I can tell he’s fighting against himself not to come any closer.
“Wait,” he says, shaking his head and I think he’s going to take back the invitation to go home with him. “You left so Daisy wouldn’t publish an article in the paper?”
“Right.”
“What was the plan for after?”
“I don’t know. Hide here and cry until I figured out something better to do.”
Wes frowns, exhaling heavily. He looks so tired and worn.
“Do you want to go get some coffee?” I offer. “You look exhausted.”
“I am. I didn’t sleep well at all last night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is your fault.” He steps in and takes both my hands in his. “I got used to sleeping next to you already. Please come home.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
40
Weston
I reach over and take Scarlet’s hand. We’re headed back to Eastwood and though I should probably be a dozen other things, I’m happy. Scarlet is coming home with me.
“Why did you start conning people?” I ask, giving her hand a squeeze.
“I realized I could,” she confesses. “It wasn’t like a dream I had when I was a little girl to grow up and be a con artist.”
“What did you want to be when you grew up?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. For a while there I wanted to work at a zoo, but then things changed and I realized I didn’t have options. Especially after I dropped out of high school to take care of Heather and Jason.”
“You did go back, right?”
“Right. My dad showed up again and was able to look after them. Luckily, because our mom died shortly after.” She looks out the window and it hits me how different our childhoods were. “I’ve always worked. I had to. Hell, someone had to and it sure wasn’t Mom. I busted my ass for my family and when I realized I could get more money doing something as harmless as flirt with a guy…I still shouldn’t have done it, but, well…”
I rub my thumb against her hand. I don’t want to judge her. I don’t want to look at her any differently than I did before. “How’d you pick people to scam?”
“Well, my go-to scam was to hang out in bars at expensive hotels. Men—usually married men away on business trips—were easy. I mean easy to con. Not easy to sleep with. I didn’t sleep with them. I just took their money and left. Which was supposed to sound better but, fuck, I’m terrible.”
I laugh, giving her hand a squeeze. “Honestly I find this all really interesting.”
“Well, that’s good, I guess. And to answer your question, I’d read the room. Find a guy who had something to prove. The more desperate, the easier they were to take money from. And you’d be surprised at how distracting a low-cut top and a good pushup bra can be. I picked a lot of pockets after ‘accidentally’ spilling a few drops of whiskey down my cleavage.”
“Yeah, that would be distracting. Even for me.”
She smiles, but I can sense her discomfort. I don’t approve of what she did, of course. It’s illegal and I’m a cop.
“I used to think of myself as a version of Robin Hood who kept the money I hustled instead of giving it to the poor. My family was poor so it kind of makes sense.” She shakes her head. “The people I conned were rich assholes who were more than willing to cheat on their wives. Losing a couple hundred bucks here or there wouldn’t have hurt them and maybe it taught them a lesson in cheating. Instead of getting a sexy one-night stand, they got stood up and got their cash stolen.”
“That’s a way to look at it.”
“It doesn’t make it right. I know. If I could take it back, I would. There’s a lot of stuff I’d take back and I’m not just talking about cons.”
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of too.” She looks cold, so I take my hand from hers and turn up the heat. “I’ve never conned anyone, but there’s plenty of things I’d do over. Specifically, my marriage.”
“Has she been back?” Scarlet asks hesitantly and I debate on telling her what happened at the bar yesterday. She’s already upset.
“Yeah. She showed up at the house and I told her to leave. Then Jackson and I went to Getaway—”
“You took Jackson to a bar?”
“During the day. They weren’t open yet.”
“Oh, that’s better. I was going to say you really fell apart on me and I was only gone a day.”
“I did fall apart. But anyway…we went to talk to my brothers and Daisy followed. She tried to get Jackson to leave with her.”
“Oh my God. What happened?”
“I had her arrested for an attempted kidnapping. Her parents got a fancy lawyer right away and she was released. We’re supposed to have family court in the near future, so nothing will happen until it’s reviewed then.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So she’ll be back.”
“Yes, but hopefully the next time she does, I’ll be officially divorced and will have all the paperwork I need to legally have full custody of Jackson.”
Scarlet nods and falls silent for a few minutes.
“Do you still want to be with me?”
“Yes.” I slow, getting stuck in construction-zone traffic. The clouds are starting to give way to blue skies.
“Are you sure? I’m not a good person, Wes.”
“What you’ve done and who are you are different from each other. You’re not a bad person, Scarlet, and I believe that with my whole heart. I’ve seen you, the real you, and over the last few weeks, I fell in love with you. I never thought I’d love anyone again.”
“And I never thought I’d love anyone at all.” She pulls her arms in toward her body. “Not even myself.”
I turn away from the crawling traffic to look at her beautiful face. Tears well in her eyes and she’s working hard to keep them from falling.
“Loving you and Jackson came easy,” she whispers. “But loving myself…hell, it was hard to remotely like myself most days.”
“You’re worthy of love, Scarlet. Admitting your faults isn’t easy to do, and you have.”
Scarlet nods, wiping away her tears. “Thank you, Weston.”
“For what?”
“For believing in me. My past is dark, but the rest of my life doesn’t have to be.”
I take her hand again. “It won’t be.”
* * *
I lug the biggest suitcase to the top of the stairs. Scarlet is behind me, carrying her other bags. I pause at the top of the stairs, looking down the hall at the guest room. My bedroom is on the opposite end, and even before this whole mess, Scarlet kept her stuff in the guest room closet.
She dozed off on the way home, giving me time to think. I’ve always been cautious. Too cautious. I married Daisy because it made sense. We’d dated long enough to warrant a proposal. I loved her because she was safe and familiar, and look how that turned out.
I trust Scarlet when she says she wants to change. She did nothing to make me question her judgment before, and I know the worst thing you can do to someone who’s trying to better themselves is to constantly remind them of the mistakes they made.
I’m done being cautious when it comes to love. I’m letting my heart guide me this time.
“Where are you going?” Scarlet asks when I take her stuff into my room.
“I love you.” I set her suitcase on the floor by the bed. “I want us to be together and I want to make sure you know I’m not going to hold the past against you. We can’t move on and enjoy the present if we’re constantly looking backward. And I want to move forward with you.”
Scarlet drops her bags to the ground. “I love you, too.” She steps forward, closing the distance between us, and it
’s like I can’t get enough of her. I grab her and throw her on the bed. I move over top, settling between her legs. She rakes her fingers up over my back, and I’m turned on already. I press my hardened cock against her, and she bucks her hips against me.
I bring my head down, kissing her hard before moving my lips to her neck. She reaches down, fumbling with the button on my jeans for a moment before popping it off and shimmying them down my legs. She pushes me to the side, hooking one leg over me and taking hold of my cock. I look down, groaning when I see her long and slender fingers wrapped around my dick. She pumps her hand up and down, swirling her thumb over the tip and spreading precum down my shaft.
Then she lets go and moves down. With a swift movement, she yanks my pants the rest of the way off and takes a hold of my cock again. But instead of moving back up to where she was before, she takes me in her mouth, tongue flicking the tip of my cock.
I let out a moan, falling back onto the mattress. I spread my legs, watching her suck my cock. She moves slow, teasing me, and then speeds up only to slow again. Fuck, she’s good at this. My eyes flutter shut, and I enjoy her mouth on me for another minute before pushing her away.
“I wasn’t done yet,” she says coyly.
“You’re going to make me come already.”
“That’s the plan. I want to take care of you.”
I sit up, grabbing her by the waist. “Letting me fuck you is taking care of me.”
She moans and falls back against the bed, one arm landing above her head. “I’m okay with that.”
I kiss my way down her torso and pull her leggings down, dropping them on the floor. Then I trail kisses up her thigh, stopping right next to her tender core. She tenses, anticipating what’s coming—which will be her in just a few minutes.
I put my mouth over her, letting out a breath of hot air and teasing her through her panties. Slowly, I stroke her, though so gently she’s pressing herself against me.
“I need you, Wes,” she groans, reaching down and taking my hand. “I need you to make me come.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. With a growl I move back up, kissing her lips as I slip my hand inside her panties.
Dawson Family Boxset: Books 1-3 with Bonus Content Page 76