Cheap Trick: A Dawson Family Novel

by Goodwin, Emily

  I push my food around on my plate, mind drifting to Danielle. Letting out a breath, I look up at Owen. He’s right again, dammit.

  “Regretting something you did sucks ass, trust me, I know,” he goes on. “But regretting what you didn’t do sucks even worse. Then you get stuck in the what if game and even I can lose sleep over that.”

  Shoveling a forkful of food into my mouth, I just nod. He’s referencing his own personal regrets when it comes to love. His ex-girlfriend Charlotte still has his heart, and we found out last year she moved to New York and got engaged to some big shot lawyer. Owen took the news harder than anyone—including me—expected. He’s still in love with her, even after all this time.

  It kills me to see him hurting over her. They broke up because Owen was, well, Owen. Charlie wanted something more serious after college and Owen wasn’t ready to settle down. Really, he was scared. We were young, just graduated, and didn’t know what the hell we were supposed to do with our lives. Charlie was in law school, set on getting a job at her dad’s firm here in Eastwood.

  The thought of settling down, of being the second one out of all of us to get married and pop out babies…it freaked Owen out. I don’t think he’s even admitted it to himself, but I think he was more afraid of letting Charlie down than anything else.

  So they broke up and she moved on, getting a fancy job in the city. That was years ago, and it still haunts him. I don’t want to end up in the same situation with Danielle. I can’t imagine watching her date anyone else. Fall in love with anyone else.

  Marry anyone else.

  I swallow my food and reach for my water. Owen is right: this has to be it. Because if this isn’t…then it won’t happen at all.

  * * *

  “I fucking hate all of you.” I set the weights down and glare at Owen, Dean, and Archer. It doesn’t always happen that we end up at the gym at the same time, but when we do, we spend more time heckling each other than working out.

  And right now, they won’t shut the fuck up about Hawaii and what I should do to Danielle when we get there.

  “If you need some pointers, I’m willing to share a few tips.” Dean adds weights to the leg press.

  “Don’t take advice from him,” Owen says. “He’s married. And we all know what happens to your sex life when you get married. It disappears.”

  “I disagree,” Archer starts, and we all round on him. Dean acts like he’s going to puke, and Archer rolls his eyes. Archer is married to our baby sister. It’s an unspoken rule he’s not allowed to bring anything up that makes us think their relationship is more than PG. Even though they have one kid and are trying for another.

  “Notice Dean didn’t object,” Owen laughs. “Proof that most married couples become boring.”

  “So what then?” Archer asks. “You’d just date forever and not get married and settle down?”

  “That’s the plan.” Owen shrugs, turning away and picking up another weight. “It’s worked well for me so far. And settling for just one pussy for the rest of your life? No thank you.”

  I don’t bring up what he told me just last night and how I know he’d give anything for another chance with Charlie. For the next five minutes or so, we all lift and stop talking to each other. And then things pick right back up as we rest between reps.

  “You really think you can pull this off?” Dean asks, stretching out his hamstrings.

  “I don’t see why it won’t,” I tell him, pulling one arm across my chest. “Her sister already bought it, and that ring I borrowed from Quinn looks legitimate.”

  “But then what?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. We go back to how things were.”

  “No, dude,” Owen says firmly as he checks himself out in the large mirror. “You’re going to fuck her so good she’ll be begging for more.”

  I roll my eyes. “And I wonder why you’re single.”

  “Whatever happens,” Dean goes on, “enjoy the time off in paradise.”

  “I plan on it.” Going anywhere with Danielle would feel like paradise. We go back to lifting and then finish our workout. Archer and Dean go their separate ways, and Owen and I stop into town to grocery shop and run a few other errands before we head home as well.

  Ever since we opened Getaway, we knew we’d be working our asses off until it took off enough to hire more employees so we could take more days off ourselves. We’re definitely to that point but still work like we did when we were new. Well, I do at least. Owen shows up, complains about having to work, but doesn’t mind as much as he makes you believe. He’s working tonight, and I have the night off before going back tomorrow. Maybe we should hire another bartender or two as well as a few weekend waitresses.

  I plan on spending the rest of the day finishing the thriller I started—I’m only five chapters away from the end and shit’s about to go down—and then take Dex for a walk. I’m on my last chapter when Danielle texts me.

  It’s info on the hotel we’re staying at, along with the flight numbers. We have two layovers, but we’re lucky enough that we were able to get any tickets this close to the wedding. I click on the hotel link.

  “Shit,” I mutter. This place is fancy, and the beaches are endless. It really does look like a paradise.

  Just a minute later, my phone rings, and it’s Danielle.

  “Miss me?” I answer.

  “You know it, Dawson,” she says right back. “I assume you got the hotel info.”

  “I was looking at it and then someone had the nerve to call and interrupt me.”

  “Geez, that person sounds like a jerk.”

  “The biggest.”

  “Other than being rudely interrupted, what are you doing?” she asks.

  “Trying to finish a book.”

  “How close to the end are you?”

  I flip through it. “Twenty pages.”

  “That’ll take you like ten minutes,” she laughs. “Want to finish it and then come over? I made a bunch of pies and need someone to help me eat them.”

  “Pies?”

  “I got suckered into a charity bake sale for the 4H group. I’ve never made a pie before, but my grandma was the best pie baker in the county. Or at least Grandpa says so. Now I have to live up to the expectation she set.”

  “Eating dessert in the name of charity? That’s basically torture.”

  “I know, right? And I’m about to make a fresh pot of coffee to go along with it.”

  “Damn, you’re evil. I’ll be right over,” I chuckle. “But I’m finishing the book first.”

  “Thanks. And that’ll be perfect timing. I have two more pies in the oven.”

  “How many pies did you make?”

  She pauses as she counts. “Eight.”

  “Who the fuck has eight pie-pans?”

  A giggle comes over the phone, and it’s one of the best sounds in the whole damn world. “I love how that’s your main concern. We have five pie-pans, and then I went out and got those cheap ones. I was going to make every pie in my grandma’s recipe book, but I’m eight in and there’s still two more pages of recipes. I didn’t know this until this morning, but she always wanted to open a bakery. Grandpa told me she spent years saving up the money and found the perfect location and everything. Then she got sick,” Danielle says, voice thinning. Danielle’s grandma died before she got the chance to meet her.

  “What was the perfect location?”

  “Downtown, where that overpriced boutique is now.”

  “Pies would sell better than expensive clothes. This is Eastwood, not Newport. We’re not sophisticated enough to follow trends. I mean, if it’s plaid and pairs well with John Deer green, you’ve hit most of your market in this town.”

  Danielle laughs again, and it hits me then how far I’d go to make her smile and hear her laugh. It hurts me to know she’s hurting.

  Motherfucker. I’m so screwed. Because no matter how I go about this, there is no possible way I can deny that I am crazy in love with this
woman.

  Chapter 10

  Danielle

  “I made that lasagna you like and put it in the freezer. And the award-winning pie is in the cake stand on the counter.” I go over to the fridge, making sure it’s well stocked before I leave for the airport.

  “Kiddo,” Grandpa says, limping a bit as he walks through the kitchen. “I know where the grocery store is. And even better, I know how to order a pizza.”

  “But they don’t deliver out here,” I counter.

  “I have the truck.”

  I put one hand on my hip. “I know. I just…I feel bad leaving.”

  Grandpa laughs. “I have enjoyed having you here. It’s nice having the company, and it was high time someone got out Grandma’s cookbook.” He eyes the pie on the counter.

  “Don’t eat it all in one day,” I say with a laugh.

  Grandpa gives me a wink. “I’ll try my best.”

  Black Cat jumps up on the counter and sniffs at the glass cake stand. Good thing I covered the pie. The porch creaks, and a second later, someone knocks on the door. My heart swells in my chest—just a tiny bit—knowing that Logan is here.

  “I’ll miss you,” I tell Grandpa before I go to answer the door. “Take care while I’m gone, okay?”

  “I’ve gotten along this far and have been just fine. Now you take care. Let me know when you land. And watch out for sharks,” he adds, knowing I have a very real fear of wildlife in the ocean.

  I shudder. “I’ll be staying in knee-deep water.”

  “The shallow end is no place to live, kiddo. Go out there. Get your hair wet.”

  “You’re not just talking about the ocean anymore, are you?”

  Grandpa just shrugs and limps past me to let Logan and Dean—who’s driving us to the airport—into the house. I’m surprised to see Kara there with them. She smiles when she sees me, and I have to give her credit for trying. She’s the odd one out with the Dawsons, and her little stint where she was mad at Quinn for being pregnant at her wedding left a sour taste in their mouths.

  The Dawson guys are very protective of their little sister, and anyone—even Dean’s wife—being mean to her puts you on their shit list. Add in that her anger was directed toward Quinn and Archer, who’s just as much of a Dawson as the rest of them, and Logan and Owen were not her biggest fan.

  “Hey, you’re coming with?” I ask, hoping I don’t come off as rude.

  “Yeah, we figured since we’re dropping you off at the airport around dinner time, we might as well take advantage of it and have dinner in the city,” she explains.

  “Ohhh, that sounds fun.” I look at Logan, and this time there’s no denying the beat my heart skipped. “My suitcase is over there. It’s heavy.”

  Logan raises an eyebrow. “Bummer, you’re going to have to deal with a heavy suitcase.”

  I laugh right as he steps forward to get it for me. I double-check I have our boarding passes and then the other stuff I need before leaving for a few days.

  “Take care of my granddaughter,” Grandpa tells Logan, clapping him on the back. “Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Logan gives me a look, and I narrow my eyes, shaking my head in a silent warning not to make a comment about church ladies again.

  “We’ll have fun,” I say. “And then we’ll suffer through Diana’s wedding.”

  “Have a drink or two first.” Grandpa winks, and Dean laughs. The day after Diana and Peter left Eastwood, she’s become an insufferable Bridezilla and went so far as “advising” me I should cut my hair before the wedding since Hawaii is so hot. Turns out, she wants to have the longest hair out of everyone in the bridal party. I did go get a haircut but got exactly one inch taken off only to clean up my split ends.

  I’m not allowed to wear my hair down during the ceremony or have on dangly earrings. We also can’t have red lipstick, because that’s Diana’s “signature” color. She also wants us all to fast the day before the wedding to make sure we “look our best” and not bloated in the wedding photos.

  I’m starting to think she and Peter deserve each other.

  “Send me pictures,” Grandpa says, hobbling over.

  “I will. Love you, Grandpa.”

  “Love you too, Ellie.”

  I give him a hug goodbye and then step into the humid summer air. Logan puts my suitcase in the trunk, and we climb into the back of Dean’s car.

  * * *

  “We have an hour and a half before we leave.” Logan looks around the terminal. “Want to go get something to eat?”

  “Yeah, that sounds good. I’m starving.” I grab my purse and reach for my carry-on, but Logan grabs it first, along with his. Carrying both bags, Logan leads the way, stopping outside a pizza restaurant. He looks at it and shrugs. I nod and we go in, finding a table. Logan stashes the bags to the side, and we order drinks and a pepperoni pizza.

  “What’s the first thing you want to do when we get to Hawaii?” I ask, reaching for my Long Island Iced Tea.

  “Sleep.”

  “You’re so boring.”

  Logan takes a sip of beer. “It’ll be six AM our time and one AM Hawaii time. I can’t sleep on planes, but that might work to my advantage. I can pass out once we get to the hotel and then wake up and be pretty much on their time zone.”

  “I can sleep on long flights if I’m tired enough.”

  “Right. You’ve been on some long ones.”

  Nodding, I turn my head, people watching for a minute. I turn back, and Logan quickly looks away. I smile and run my eyes over him. God, he’s such a gorgeous man. He’s been working out a lot more lately, and I can tell. It won’t be hard to pretend to be insanely attracted to my fiancé.

  What the hell did I get us into?

  “Thanks again for coming with me,” I blurt before I have a chance to really think about it. I reach out and put my hand on his, and as soon as my skin makes contact with his, I know I just make a big mistake.

  Because now I’m not entirely sure I’m going to be capable of removing my hand.

  His long fingers under mine are warm, and I know if he was to flip his palm over, I’d feel rough skin. He’d interlace our fingers, and he’d move his thumb down to my wrist, rubbing little circles over my skin.

  Then he’d reach forward with his other hand and caress my face. We’d slowly lean across the table. He’d push my hair back, tucking my long locks behind my ear. My tongue would dart out, slowly wetting my lips. Heat would rush through me, starting in my stomach and spreading down at a scary-fast rate, making me wet with anticipation of what’s to come.

  Spoiler alert: it’ll be me.

  I blink and jerk my hand back, unable to help that flush that takes over my face. Reaching for my drink, I almost knock it over before I grip the cold glass. I bring it to my lips and take down a few gulps, which was probably a bad idea on its own. I haven’t eaten in a while, the pizza won’t be here for another ten minutes at least, and drunk Danielle has an even harder time filtering her thoughts.

  “You’re welcome,” Logan says, leaning back and tensing a bit. “I know how awkward it would be around your family, and I’m glad you don’t have to go alone.” The line sounds rehearsed, but I’ll take it.

  “Yeah. I’ve hardly spoken to my dad since I left. Which is a good thing, because it was really awkward when he called to congratulate me on my engagement,” I laugh, and Logan does too. I shake my head. “I still feel bad for getting you into this mess.”

  “It’s really not that messy.” Logan’s shoulders start to relax again. “And if I didn’t want to get into it, I wouldn’t. I know this might come as a shock since I spend most of my free time with Owen, but I am an adult capable of making my own decisions.”

  I narrow my eyes. “But are you really?”

  “It is a little questionable. You should start making me precooked dinners and pies when we get back like you did for your grandpa.”

  “Hey,” I laugh. “Grandpa has gotten used to havi
ng someone else around the house to help with those things. His age is starting to show, as much as I hate saying that. And it’s a wonder his cholesterol isn’t sky-high from the way he was eating before I got there.”

  “You mean eating the burgers and fries he’d come in and get at least four times a week?”

  “Exactly that.” I pick up my drink again. “Now I’m the one eating burgers and fries four times a week.”

  “They are good burgers.”

  “Too good. I should have scaled back before summer and swimsuit weather.”

  Logan looks at me like I’m crazy. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I make a face, getting a little uncomfortable. I spoke without thinking, and to be honest, I’m not even sure I care that much. But it’s been so ingrained in my head since I was just a little girl that how I look determines my self-worth in some peoples’ eyes.

  It’s utter bullshit, and I know it. Yet I have a hard time turning that part of my brain off, the part where I look at myself in the mirror and immediately see my flaws. They’re the first things I see, actually.

  I’d love to look at myself and find beauty in the imperfections, but I don’t know how.

  “You look really good in a swimsuit,” Logan says, and now it’s his turn to speak without thinking. “I mean, not that I really look or anything.”

  The alcohol is hitting me and watching him blush is the cutest thing in the whole entire world right now. “You’ve never looked at me in a swimsuit?” I flutter my lashes.

  Logan shakes his head, recovering fast. “Nope. I refuse to look at you when you’re indecent.” He brings his beer to his lips.

  I lean forward and bite my lip. “So you’re not going to go to the beach with me at all this weekend?”

  “Only if you wear one of those old-fashioned swimsuits.”

  “Like the one Wednesday Addams wore in Family Values?”

  Logan laughs, eyes sparkling. “Exactly like that one.”