Cheap Trick: A Dawson Family Novel

by Goodwin, Emily

  I can’t pull her close and hold her tight. I can’t put my lips to hers, drinking her all in and telling her how she shouldn’t worry about comparing or measuring up because she’s one of the single most amazing women I’ve ever met.

  “What about that Bamboo Forest you were talking about?” I ask.

  Her lips start to curve in a smile. “You’d like to go?”

  “Hell yes, I’d like to go. I looked up pictures online about it, and it looks pretty fucking cool.”

  “Yeah, it does. And it’s only about an hour-and-fifteen-minute drive from here.”

  “Doesn’t that mean we need to rent a car?”

  She brings her drink to her lips and takes a small sip. “My dad rented a car. He won’t be using it today since he’s golfing. I can either ask or just go and take it. He won’t even notice it’s gone.”

  “Look at you almost committing grand theft. Maybe you are going to start a life of crime.”

  “Told you.”

  “We should have gone to Mexico instead.”

  She laughs. “That’s too obvious.”

  “Ah, so it was all part of your plan?”

  “Of course. I thought this all out, and you’re either with me or against me.”

  “Oh damn.” I lean back, shaking my head. “I’m with you. All the way. If not, you’ll have to kill me, right?”

  “Right. And then I’d throw you in the ocean and let the sharks take care of your body.”

  “You’re ruthless, Danielle.”

  She narrows her eyes and nods her head. “Damn straight.” She smiles and the wind blows her hair around her face. We’re on an outdoor terrace, shaded from the sun. The crashing waves of the ocean echo behind us, along with happy chatter and laughter from other vacationers.

  “You’re spacing out,” Danielle says, nudging her foot against mine under the table. I blink and tear my eyes away from the ocean, only to look at something even more beautiful.

  Danielle.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asks.

  “How I might leave the bar in Owen’s hands and never go home. It would be nice to have this year-round.”

  “Midwest winters can be brutal. But wouldn’t you miss the change in seasons?”

  I sweep my hand out at the ocean so blue it blends right in with the sky. “Not if I had this.”

  “Christmas and the cold just go hand in hand to me. It would be weird not to have snow around the holidays.”

  “We didn’t have any snow last Christmas. It was forty-five degrees.”

  “True,” she laughs. Our food comes, and we both dig in. It’s the first real meal I’ve had since the pizza at the airport, and I’m starving. I finish everything in record time.

  “It’s a shame you’re not joining us for golf,” Peter says, coming around the table.

  “I’m not much of a golfer.” I set my fork and knife on my plate. “And I want to spend time with my fiancée.” I take Danielle’s hand again, smiling when I look into her eyes.

  “You’re a good man to follow her around shopping and getting her nails done today.”

  “I’m not shopping,” Danielle tells him. “We’re going to walk through the Bamboo Forest.”

  “Oh, that place looks so cool!” the bridesmaid sitting next to Danielle twists in her seat. “I watched a bunch of YouTube videos about it, and I’d love to hike it.”

  “Come with,” Danielle offers. I don’t think she really meant it and was more asking to be polite while expecting her offer to be turned down. Anyone is welcome to join us, but I didn’t realize how much I was looking forward to being with just Danielle until now.

  “I wish,” the bridesmaid tells Danielle. “We’ve had these appointments for over a month, and it’s what Diana wants to do.”

  “I heard my name.” Diana’s eyes widen as she looks down the table. “Talking about me?”

  “Always,” Danielle replies. “All gossip, of course.”

  Her sister laughs, smiling as she looks at Danielle. I can feel the strain between them, the slight competition I’m willing to bet was put there by their own parents without really meaning to. I understand why Danielle left, and it’s almost creepy how everyone is acting like things are perfectly fine between them all.

  Peter hit on Danielle at their place of work. When Danielle threatened to call him out, he proposed to Diana. And then when the truth came out, everyone sided with Peter, acting like he can’t be held responsible for his actions because he’s a man and Danielle should have known better than to wear something so tight and revealing to work. It hurt Danielle so much that she left without saying goodbye.

  And now the whole gang is sitting here, drinking mimosas on the beach, acting like none of that ever happened. I guess when appearance is everything, you’re willing to overlook a few glaringly obvious fucked-up things.

  It’s even weirder to think that Carol grew up in Eastwood, graduating a few years after my own parents did. Danielle doesn’t talk about the fallout her mother and grandpa had, but I know things got messy after Danielle’s grandmother died of cancer when her mother was a sophomore in high school. Her grandpa had a hard time dealing and drank a lot. Carol went to stay at her aunt’s house in New Jersey, and things were never the same from there.

  “We were talking about the Bamboo Forest trails. You know, the one with the waterfalls,” the bridesmaid explains. “And how we have our nail appointments to go to instead.”

  “Right,” Diana says with a nod. “But the trails are all muddy. So not my thing.”

  “And your thing is everyone’s thing,” Danielle says under her breath. The bridesmaid hears her and tries not to smile. “So, Diana says you just got engaged.”

  “Yeah.” Danielle’s eyes flick to mine. “Just a few weeks ago.”

  “Congrats! That ring is gorgeous!”

  “Thanks. He did a good job.” She wiggles her fingers. “I’m lucky.”

  The bridesmaid looks at me. “Yeah, you are.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” I reach across the table and take Danielle’s hand. It feels like the natural thing to do…but then again, so does kissing her. I force a smile and shove everything I’m feeling to the sideline where they’ve always been.

  And I think they always will be.

  * * *

  “I was a little worried Diana would pick hideous dresses.” Danielle does a twirl in front of the mirror. “But these are really pretty. I’d totally wear this for real.” She’s wearing her bridesmaid dress, and it looks beautiful on her. Though I’m pretty sure she could wrap herself up in a shower curtain and still look amazing.

  The dress is a sea-green color, matching her eyes, and is shorter in the front than in the back. It’s flowy and swirls around her legs as she spins.

  “Looks comfortable too.”

  “It is, and it won’t be too hot for tomorrow, which is nice.” She looks down at the dress once more. “I should change, though. We need to head out if we want to make it to the Bamboo Forest. And I got the keys from my dad.”

  “You took them, or he gave them to you?”

  “Took them.”

  “What a rebel,” I tease.

  “This is just the start. I’m thinking about swiping that really soft robe from the hotel closet too.”

  “I think they just charge it to your room.”

  “Oh.” She wrinkles her nose. “Well, I’ll enjoy the freebie robe for like a few hours then until they realize it’s missing.” Opening the dresser drawer, she grabs her clothes and goes into the bathroom to change. My stuff is still in my suitcase where I’ll keep it the rest of the trip.

  “Shit,” I hear Danielle swear from the bathroom.

  “Everything okay in there?” I call.

  “My hair is stuck in the zipper.”

  “Need help?”

  “Yes, please.” She comes out of the bathroom, holding the dress up over her breasts with one hand and turns around. The zipper made it about halfway down before she r
an over her hair. “I tried zipping it back up, you know, like undoing what I did. And now it’s worse.”

  I gather her hair up in my hand, separating it from the little section that’s caught in the zipper. I go to move it over her shoulder, and my fingers sweep across the soft skin on the nape of her neck. Swallowing hard, I look at the tangle of hair, trying to figure out the best way to get it out of the zipper without breaking off the long locks.

  But now I’m looking at a little freckle she has on the back of her shoulder. She has tan lines that run down her back, disappearing beneath the light blue fabric of the dress.

  “How bad is it?” She turns her head back, looking over her shoulder. She arches her back a bit, trying to get a better look, and her ass brushes against me, causing my cock to stir. I grit my teeth and look back at the zipper.

  “Not that bad.”

  “Good. Because that’s too much hair to cut. Also, I’m fairly certain if I broke the zipper on the dress, I’d be the dead body in the ocean. Diana won’t get her hands muddy, but she has no problem getting them bloody.”

  “She’s very, uh, focused on the wedding,” I mumble. Heat radiates off of her, and being so close yet so far is the most infuriating thing in this whole fucking world. Shifting my gaze from her ass to her hair, I carefully move the zipper down, freeing a few strands of hair. A few pieces snap off, but the zipper keeps coming down, moving past the spot where it was stuck.

  I should stop.

  Let her finish unzipping the dress.

  But I’ve lost control over my hands, and the zipper keeps moving down farther and farther until my fingers are hovering above the little dimple she has on her lower back. She reaches up, holding the dress with one hand, and feels her hair.

  “How’s the zipper? I’m almost scared to look.”

  “I think it’s okay.”

  “Can you test it?” She looks over her shoulder again. “I’ll make sure to keep my hair out of the way this time.” Gathering her hair in one hand, she twists it and holds it out of the way. I pull the dress together, fumbling with the tiny zipper between my large fingers.

  My mouth goes dry, and never in my life would I have thought zipping up a dress would be as much of a turn-on as unzipping one.

  “Oh, thank God,” Danielle says with a sigh once the zipper goes up to the top. She takes a step away and looks in the mirror hanging on the wall outside the bathroom. “I’ll live to see another day.” She comes back over and turns around. “Do you mind? I don’t want to have another issue with my hair.”

  “Not at all.”

  She pulls her hair out of the way again and turns around. I stare at the little zipper, hesitating before reaching out and picking up the metal tab. I blink and see myself unzipping the dress and then spinning Danielle around. She’s holding it up with hands, but when I grab her and kiss her, she lets it fall.

  “Thank you, Logan,” she says, stepping away. “You’re a good friend.”

  I flash a grin. “I know. I’m the best.”

  She laughs and goes back into the bathroom. Once the door is closed, I sink onto the bed, mentally yelling at myself. I am a good fucking friend.

  But I’d make an even better lover. And I’m going to prove that to her today.

  Chapter 15

  Danielle

  I toss my bag in the back and get in the passenger seat, handing the keys to Logan. I left most of that vodka untouched on the breakfast table, but I’m still feeling a little tipsy, so having Logan drive is the safer option. Plus, I read that some of the roads are really narrow and twisty. That kind of driving would stress me out too much.

  “I brought water and snacks.” I pull the seatbelt over my lap and click it into place.

  “Good. I’ll be able to last a few hours.”

  I laugh. “I could never be on one of those survival shows. Going more than like six hours without eating is torture. While I’m awake, I mean. I can make an exception when I’m sleeping those solid twelve hours.”

  “You do not sleep for twelve hours.” He backs out of the parking space. “You stay up until two or three watching YouTube videos almost every night.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Logan steals a look at me, raising his eyebrows.

  “Sometimes it’s TV or just mindlessly scrolling through the social media sites I don’t post on that often yet still suck the happiness right out of me like a Dementor.”

  “Maybe not looking at those sites would be a good idea.”

  “Gee, you think so?” I tip my head toward his, smiling. “Though, really, I consider unplugging or even getting rid of some of my social media accounts altogether.” I watch the resort get smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror. I haven’t checked any of my social media since we landed, and I’m quite proud of myself for that. Waking up, grabbing my phone, and starting my day by comparing myself to others is really self-defeating and not worth it at all.

  It’s easy to fake a perfect life in fifteen-second clips or with a posed—and photoshopped—image. Hell, even I can make my life look fulfilling and amazing and not full of fuck-up moments.

  “You should,” Logan says. “If I didn’t run Getaway’s social media, I wouldn’t be online much at all. Well, other than to read articles and find spoiler-filled memes to send to Dean. He’s always behind in whatever show we’re watching.”

  “Poor Dean.”

  “He brings it upon himself.” Logan’s eyes light up. “And if he’d read the fucking books said shows were based on, I couldn’t spoil it at all.”

  “Yeah, but who has time to read?” I huff, dramatically rolling my eyes.

  Logan just shakes his head. He reads several books a week, and I’ve found him in the office with a book, hiding away from the busy crowd at the bar more than once. I turn on the radio, flipping through stations until I find one we both like. Then I turn up the radio and watch the gorgeous island pass by.

  The breeze picks up a bit when we get to the other side of the island, and gray clouds overhead bring the promise of rain. We park along the side of the road and get out. There are a few other cars parked along the road as well, but right now, everything is silent.

  “So, from what I read online,” I start, looking around, “we need to find an access point, which is not really anything bigger than a deer trail.”

  Logan locks the car and looks at the foliage lining the road. “There’s one.” He points to a trail that’s so narrow it’s easy to miss. I start forward but hesitate, getting a flash of running into thick spider webs as I ran through rows of corn back when I was a kid.

  “Want me to go first and break the spider webs?”

  “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

  Logan’s eyes meet mine, and my heart gets all fluttery again. “You’ve brought up that emotionally scarring story of running into what you called a banana spider even though they live in the tropics in South America.”

  “It was big and very yellow.”

  Logan chuckles and steps off the road, leading the way to the little path. We only make it a few feet before feeling like we’ve been transported away from a busy tourist site to the middle of a jungle, surrounded by nothing but wildlife and trees. We continue on the path, which is muddy like Diana feared, for a bit and then emerge onto the bigger path. A group of people are a few yards ahead of us, talking and taking selfies every few feet.

  “Hang on a second.” I grab Logan’s wrist, pulling him back toward me. It was meant to be an innocent gesture, but wrapping my fingers around his arm stirs something inside of me. I’ve touched Logan before—all friendly touches, of course—and I’ve never gotten this kind of response before.

  Because right now, feeling his warm skin under my fingers is causing my sensitive parts to swell with desire. It’s hot and humid under the thick of branches and leaves, but a chill makes its way through me.

  “What?” Logan twists his hand, breaking out of my hold. But he doesn’t move away like he norm
ally would. No, this time he flips his hand over and curls his fingers over mine. I’m well aware we’re standing here, literally doing nothing more than hold hands.

  And yet, he was able to get such a strong physical reaction out of me.

  “I, uh…uh…” What was I doing? Why did I reach for Logan again? Oh right. “Those people up there.”

  “What about them?”

  “I like feeling like we’re actually out exploring the jungle and wanted to put some distance between us and them.”

  “Okay.” He watches the little group slowly move down the trail. “We shouldn’t wait too long, though, or someone will be behind us. Though if you really wanted to feel like you’re exploring the jungle, we should go off the path.”

  “They have the path here for a reason. We might get in trouble if we move off the trail.”

  “Maybe you should rethink your life of crime. If veering off a path in a park is pushing it for you, then how are you going to handle all the smuggling and murder?”

  I come to a dead stop, crossing my arms over my chest, waiting for Logan to turn around before I make my next overly dramatic move.

  “We should—” he starts but cuts off when he realizes I’ve stopped walking behind him. Narrowing my eyes, I take a big step off the path. Amused, Logan watches as I take another step off the path. And another.

  And another.

  “I’m a rebel.” I whirl around and march forward, but this time I really do walk right into a spider web. I bring my hands up, frantically trying to get the web off me and spin around. I didn’t see Logan rush over to help me, and I end up whacking him hard in the face.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry!” I jerk back, slip on wet leaves, and my feet go right out from under me. I land in thick mud, and Logan can’t stop laughing. “Jerk!”

  “Here.” He extends his hand, still laughing, and helps me to my feet. I turn around, looking at my butt. “It looks like you shit your pants.”

  I purse my lips and try to glare but then start laughing too. “And to think I felt bad for hitting you.”

  “You barely grazed me. Also, there’s a spider in your hair.”