Owen chuckles and attempts to fix his hair again. We both have a cowlick on the back of our heads, making our hair naturally messy. It bothered me when I was younger, but now I know how to make the rugged look work for me. Owen grabs a beer and pops off the top.
“You’re drinking away your paycheck again.”
Owen ignores me and goes over to the table, grabbing a chair from another and sliding it over.
“What, no more whiskey?” Danielle holds up her empty glass.
I give her a look. “You work here.”
“Not tonight,” she reminds me with a laugh.
I pull up another chair and crowd around the table.
“Owen will agree with me,” Quinn says, green eyes wide.
“Probably,” Owen says with a shrug. “What am I agreeing to this time?”
“Service cats.”
“Service cats?” Owen takes a drink of beer.
Quinn nods enthusiastically. “Service cats are the thing of the future.”
Archer gives Quinn a look. “They’d just knock shit over and make you trip. On purpose. And then feast on your flesh.”
Quinn narrows her eyes and Archer shakes his head, laughing.
“Fine. Cats are majestic creatures,” he says in a level tone. “I’m so lucky we have six of them.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like them,” Quinn quips. “I’m not the one who ordered that six-foot cat tree off Amazon last night.”
“It looks like a palm tree. They’re going to love it.”
Danielle nudges my leg under the table. “Told you it’d be a death sentence asking for one of them,” she whispers, and I laugh.
Thunder booms outside and the power flickers. Someone orders a round of shots, making Owen and I get up and back to work. About an hour later, Quinn, Archer, and Dean leave. Danielle stays and helps close down the bar. She’s had a few more drinks and is more than a little tipsy when it comes time to leave.
“Want me to take you home?” I ask her, sticking the register drawer in the safe.
“And risk hearing two old people…” She smashes her hands together. “You know.”
“The elderly need love too. Miss Ladyfriend Adele will take her teeth out and everything.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Stop.”
“Your gramps is a good-looking guy. I’ve seen the way those church ladies look at him. And didn’t you say he’s been volunteering more at the church? I bet that’s code for all the pus—”
“Seriously stop!” She laughs and throws a damp bar rag at me and almost loses her footing.
“You’re drunk.”
“The floor is slippery.” She pushes herself up and crosses her arms, holding my gaze. It’s something we do quite often, and she’s always the first one to lose the little staring contest and start laughing.
I lock up the office and grab my keys. Owen has been wiping the same table for the last few minutes, doing a shitty job trying not to get caught watching us.
“So…do you want me to take you to a friend’s house?” I ask, though the few people Danielle hangs out with are Quinn, Scarlet, and her cousin Rebecca, who has four kids and teaches first grade at the local elementary school. I can’t imagine she’d be very happy to come unlock the front door right now. “Or do you want to come back to my place?”
This could play out a million ways, but I’m only interested in it ending in one.
“You wouldn’t mind me crashing on the couch?”
“You can have my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’m pretty beat so I’ll pass out as soon as I lie down,” I say, hating myself as the words leave my mouth.
Danielle wrinkles her nose, and I have no fucking clue how someone can look that damn adorable and sexy as fuck at the same time. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Owen shaking his head.
“That’d be great then.” Danielle pushes off the wall, teetering on her heels a bit when she walks. “I’m going to use the bathroom first.”
“Seriously?” Owen says once Danielle is out of earshot. “You’re going to pass out as soon as you’re on the couch? She’s drunk. Now’s your chance to make a move. If she rejects you, there’s a good chance she won’t remember it in the morning.”
“I’m not making a move when she’s drunk,” I deadpan.
“Right. Because you’re never going to make a move at all.”
“Shut up,” I tell my twin, giving him a warning glare. We push each other’s buttons like no one else can, perks to being an identical twin, and no one else is allowed to mess with us the way we mess with each other. But even Owen knows there’s a line to cross and the heckling over Danielle is inching toward it.
I’ve had feelings for Danielle since the moment I met her. Sometimes I think the feelings are mutual, but Danielle’s made it clear she has no intentions of settling down in Eastwood. Making a move might complicate things, and I don’t want to risk what we have.
I’d rather have her in my life as a friend than not at all.
Chapter 2
Danielle
“Why did I think tequila shots were a good idea?” I rub my forehead, blinking my eyes open to watch the farmland pass us by. Everything is dark, and then a raccoon’s eyes reflect in the headlights. It probably won’t be long until we see a deer as well. I’ve learned to drive well below the speed limit on some of these country roads at night. You never know what kind of wildlife will run out in front of you.
Logan laughs softly and reaches into the backseat of his car, pulling a water bottle out of an open case and handing it to me.
“Thanks,” I say and go to take it from him. My fingers brush over his, and I’m almost startled by how soft and warm his skin feels against mine. I wonder if the rest of him is just as—nope. I can’t go there.
First of all, he’s my boss.
And second, what’s the point of starting a relationship when I’m not staying here forever? I’m a bit ride-or-die when it comes to dating. I either want casual, first-name-only-basis or we’re-in-it-for-the-long-haul kind of deal. Logan has long-haul potential, but I’m kind of a basket case, and he’s, well…Logan.
Handsome. Polite. A bit broody and moody, which really just adds to his charm. His t-shirts are just tight enough to show off his muscles. And that’s not to mention his strong jawline that’s always covered in the perfect amount of stubble.
Family is important to him, and he’s probably one of the most loyal people I know. He loves dogs and likes to read and—shit. I’m doing it again. I twist the cap off the water bottle and chug half of it, feeling much better once the water hits my stomach.
Logan’s place isn’t far from the bar. I know because I’ve been there before. Just never at night like this. With the intention of falling asleep there.
Which isn’t a big deal. We’re friends. And friends let friends crash at their place when they need to. I steal another glance at Logan, getting the most unwelcome feeling of fluttering in my chest. A passing car’s headlights illuminate his handsome face and I need to look away.
“Did we forget Owen at the bar?”
“He went home with some girl he met tonight. She was waiting for him to get off work.”
I shake my head, laughing. “Hasn’t he slept with most of Eastwood by now?”
“He has. I better warn your grandpa Owen’s moving into a new age bracket. He should lock things down with Adele to keep Owen from making a move.”
“You’re such a dick,” I laugh, playfully nudging Logan’s arm. His skin is warm like I imagined, and my fingers linger just a little too long. Swallowing hard, I shift in my seat and take another drink of water.
Logan messes with the radio and we drive the rest of the short way to his place listening to music and not talking. Yellow light spills from the porch and into the lawn. Logan and Owen live together in a cookie-cutter house in a newer subdivision on the outskirts of Eastwood. The house looks like it was lifted from a middle-aged housewife’s Pinterest board, and is the last house I’
d expect two eligible bachelors to live in.
It took me by surprise the first time I pulled up to it and was even more shocked when I went inside and saw the professional decorating. Turns out, this neighborhood was developed and built by Mr. Dawson’s contracting company. The house Logan and Owen live in now was a model home for a few years, hence the perfect design.
I wobble my way through the garage and into the house.
“Did your mom send you any leftovers?” I ask, balancing on one foot at a time to get my heels off, tossing them to the side of the door.
“Oh of course,” Logan says, striding through the kitchen, following the pathetic whimpers of his dog. “But we ate them.”
“Dang it. Your mom is a good cook.”
“We’re having lunch over there tomorrow. Come with.” The sound of a metal crate opening echoes through the otherwise quiet house. A five-month-old German Shepherd comes running out, jumping up at Logan, wagging his tail so hard he almost falls over.
“Down,” Logan tells him, holding out his hand. It’s cute, really, watching him try to be firm with the dog. He always ends up caving, like he is right now as he sits on the floor and lets the dog get up in his face.
“His training seems to be going well,” I sass, crossing my arms. “Glad you’re really sticking with being firm.”
“How can you say no to this face?” Logan pushes the dog’s ears back and then scratches Dexter’s chest, making his back leg go all crazy.
“Dexter!” I call, sinking down to my knees. Dexter, realizing for the first time that I’m here, comes barreling over. He knocks me back and I fall to the ground, laughing as the lanky pup licks my face.
“Come on,” Logan calls. “Go outside.”
Dexter bounds away, getting excited when he sees Logan holding his leash. I push myself up, going over to the sink to get something to drink since I somehow forgot about the water bottle in the two seconds it took for me to unbuckle and get out of the car. I fill a glass with water and set it on the counter. The kitchen is relatively clean today. Logan, overall, is a neat person. Living with Owen is like living with an adult-sized toddler leaving messes in every room. It’s funny, really, how they look so alike but have such different personalities.
I go into the living room, find the TV remote on the coffee table, and sink onto the couch. I have every intention of turning on a scary movie and making Logan watch it with me. But then I close my eyes, just for a second. The next thing I know, Dexter is on the couch next to me, wagging his tail and licking my face.
“Lightweight.” I feel the couch sink down as Logan sits down at my other side.
“Hey,” I grumble, slitting my eyes open. “I actually had like three drinks and a shot tonight. That’s a lot.”
“It is. I’ll change that lightweight to a lush then.”
“Asshole.” I try to throw a pillow at him but just end up smacking him in the face. I push myself up and laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Now you’ve done it.” Logan grabs another pillow and chucks it at me. Dexter gets way too excited and pounces on Logan, with one of his large paws landing right between his legs. Logan doubles over in pain, and I laugh even harder.
“Who’s the asshole now?” he chokes out.
“Don’t call Dexter-Wexter an asshole,” I gasp in fake shock and slip my fingers under Dexter’s collar, gently pulling him back and off the couch. I get up to grab the pillow I threw and trip when Dexter tries to do a flying leap back onto the couch.
I don’t know how he moves so fast, but I’m grateful he did. Because I’m still too drunk to have a good reaction time, and I’m about ready to fall backward onto the glass coffee table.
Logan’s arms fold around my waist at the last second. He pulls me to his chest and straightens up. I have one hand on his chest and the other is gripping his bicep. Which is strong. Firm. Warm, just like the rest of him.
A second passes, and we’re still standing there like this. I splay my fingers over his chest and turn my head up, looking into his brown eyes. Inhaling deep, my breasts crush against his body. His hand that’s on the small of my back inches lower and his fingertips press into my waist.
Heat flashes through me, unlike anything I’ve felt around him before. I’ve worked hard to keep these kinds of reactions from happening, but my whiskey-soaked mind has lost all its will right now.
“You okay?” he asks, though by now it’s obvious I am.
“Yeah. Lost my balance.”
“No shit.”
I purse my lips and go to shove him away. Dexter is on the floor behind him now, and Logan trips over the dog and falls back onto the couch, taking me down with him. That same heat ripples through me again, making my skin break out in goosebumps. My heart lurches and is beating so fast I’m sure Logan can hear it.
I should push him away.
Run and hide.
I definitely shouldn’t be inching closer, taking note of the way his cologne smells, or the fact that his shirt is pulled up a bit, exposing a few inches of his abdomen.
I shouldn’t want more.
Our eyes meet and I part my lips, feeling my heart beating faster and faster in my chest. I know one kiss is all it will take to change things between us, and the thought terrifies me.
My life has been one mistake after another, and each seems to try its damnedest to outdo the last. I love what we have between us. Logan is my best friend. I don’t want to mess that up.
But Lord have mercy on me right now. His heart is hammering along with mine, and he looks at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before. One that heats me from the inside out, melting the panties right off me. My face is moving slowly toward his, eyes zeroed in on his perfect lips. He closes his eyes, long lashes coming together, and inhales, pushing his chest up against mine.
And then Dexter jumps up, barking, startling us both. He runs through the living room and into the kitchen, disappearing into the small mud room to greet whoever just came in the house.
Logan’s brows furrow, and I get off of him, too drunk to think logically right now. Whiskey and tequila swirl around in my head, though it’s nothing but a small buzz compared to the way Logan just made me feel. He springs to his feet and rushes through the house, and it’s only then I remember Owen isn’t supposed to be home tonight.
I don’t remember locking the door behind us. Eastwood is a slow-moving, peaceful town, but it’s not a crime-free paradise. People break in, and there’s been a rash of burglaries lately. So far, all have happened to empty houses, but maybe they didn’t know we were home.
Suddenly, I’m scared, and I look around the room for a weapon.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Logan asks, but he seems annoyed, not terrified for our lives.
“Miranda’s sister brought some friends over. We needed a place a little more private.”
I let out a breath. It’s Owen. I sink back onto the couch, head spinning. I cup my face in my hands. What the hell was I thinking?
But also…why not?
No. Nope. No way José. I thought with my heart instead of my head my whole life and look where it got me. I’ve spent the last year making logical choices, and I’ve never been happier. Hearts are wild things needed to be confined to cages. They can’t be trusted.
“What, did I interrupt something?” Owen moves into the kitchen and immediately goes for the fridge. Most of the main floor is an open concept, and the kitchen, breakfast nook, and living room are all one big area. A pretty girl with short black hair follows along behind him, nervously looking at Dexter. The dog is big for a puppy, but he’s still in that I love everyone phase and hasn’t gotten too protective yet.
I close my eyes, feeling the pull of the alcohol making me tired. I let it lull me to sleep, passing out right there on the couch, dreaming of something other than the feelings that are taking me over right now. Though there’s just as much of a risk of dreaming about Logan and how good we could be together.
Chapter 3
Danielle
“I could get used to this view.” Scarlet lowers her sunglasses and winks at Weston, Logan’s oldest brother and Scarlet’s husband.
“They do look good,” I agree, stretching my legs out in front of me. We’re lying out by the pool at Logan’s parents’ house, watching all the Dawson brothers help put in a new patio. Sweat drips down Logan’s chest, glistening in the sun. I grab my lemonade and take a big sip. I almost kissed Logan last night and watching him move heavy cement pavers is doing bad things to my head.
And even worse things to my body.
It’s a hot summer day, but the heat coming off of Logan is no comparison to the noon sun in the middle of June.
“I’m related to them all,” Quinn says, shaking her head. “Now I know how Dean feels when Archer and I joke about hooking up.”
“Oh, honey.” Scarlet pushes her sunglasses back up onto her nose. “You do not joke.”
Quinn flushes a bit but laughs. “It is fun to watch Dean recoil in disgust.” A cry comes through the baby monitor that’s sitting on the side table next to Quinn. She takes another drink of her lemonade and gets up with a sigh. “That was a short nap.”
“Want me to get her?” Scarlet asks.
“Thanks, but it’s okay. Keep getting that beautiful golden glow one minute in the sun gives you.” Quinn makes a face and shakes her head. “It’s so unfair.”
Scarlet wiggles her hips and laughs. “I’ve always tanned easily. Which is a good thing. Lying out in a bikini in the front lawn of my Southside apartment was always risky.” She shudders and starts to get up. “I should check on Jackson, though. He’s watched at least one episode of PAW Patrol now, and it’s time to get his little butt back out in the sunshine.”
They go inside, leaving me alone to watch Logan, Owen, Dean, and Weston work on the patio. I spend a few minutes admiring them all before I get up as well. I’m hot just sitting here in the sun tanning, let alone doing physical labor. There’s always cold beer in the fridge at the Dawson’s, and the guys could really use one right now.
Cheap Trick: A Dawson Family Novel Page 2