“Most of it,” Quinn tells her. “Disney takes care of a lot of stuff, which makes it easy. All I’m really concerned about is having good food.”
Scarlet smiles. “I think that’s how I’d be too. Do you have a picture of your dress?”
“Of course. Want to see?”
“Heck yes!”
Quinn moves off Archer’s lap. “I don’t want to risk him seeing.”
“Oh, definitely.” Scarlet gets up and follows Quinn into the living room. The moment she steps out, my brothers round on me.
“Dude,” Owen starts, still holding Emma against his chest. “What the fuck?”
I shake my head, playing dumb. “What?”
“Your nanny is fucking hot.”
“Shut up,” I snap.
Owen raises an eyebrow. “You disagree?”
“I don’t agree or disagree.”
Logan chuckles. “Spoken like a true politician. Has this election gone to your head already?”
“Funny,” I tell him. “Yeah, she’s good-looking. But she’s here for Jackson so I can work.”
“Of course she is.” Dean raises his eyebrows. “Why else would she be here?”
“Sorry,” Archer starts. “I know Quinn had a secret agenda hiring her. She means well.”
“I know,” I tell him. “She does. And so far, Scarlet is great with Jackson. But it’s only been a few days so…”
“Who knows?” Logan finishes for me. I meet his eyes and nod.
“Right.” I get up and go to the fridge to get a beer. And who the fuck knows? I return to my seat and suck down a few gulps of the beer. I’m on edge, fighting my own attraction to Scarlet, and I feel like everyone can see right through me. That’s the only downfall of having a close-knit family like this.
The garage door opens, and Dad and Nana come in. Things get rolling after that, and Jackson throws a little fit when I tell him to wash his hands before dinner. I look at Scarlet.
“Told you so,” I mouth, and she laughs. She picks him up off the floor and takes him to the bathroom to wash his hands. Finally, we’re all seated around the table. Scarlet’s at my side and Jackson ended up across the table by Mom. I’ve introduced Scarlet to Nana twice now, and she’s staring at her, questioning who she is for the third time.
“I’m Scarlet, Jackson’s nanny,” Scarlet says sweetly.
“What the fuck happened to Daisy?” Nana asks, trying to steal Logan’s beer. He takes it from her and slides her water glass into her reach. She bats his hand away and goes for the beer again.
“Mom,” my own mother scolds. “We don’t swear at the dinner table.”
“Daisy is my mom,” Jackson says slowly, as if he’s not sure of himself. Silence falls over the table, and it’s taking everything inside me not to pound my fist before getting up and storming out. I’m not mad at my nana. Her mind has been going at a scary rate the last few months, and she doesn’t remember much of what’s happened recently.
I’m mad at Daisy and what she did to Jackson.
No one speaks, and each second that ticks by gives Jackson more and more time to think, to let his own mind question what the fuck happened to my mom? Dean opens his mouth only to snap it shut again, and Dad looks just as stunned as the rest of us.
“So, Quinn,” Scarlet says, reaching for her wine. Well, what’s left of it. “I hear you like cats.”
14
Scarlet
“Yes,” Quinn says, eyes meeting mine. I can see the relief on her face, and more importantly, the relief on Weston’s face. Poor little Jackson is still sitting there with a spoonful of mashed potatoes hovering on his spoon in front of his face, not knowing what to think. “I do.”
“How many cats do you have?” I flick my eyes to Wes’s not knowing if I should be apologetic for going into forbidden territory or not. He meets my gaze and offers a small smile.
“Eight.”
“Eight?” I echo.
“One or two might be temporary.”
Quinn’s fiancé, Archer, raises an eyebrow. “Only one or two?”
Quinn smiles guiltily. “They’re all so cute.”
“I want a cat!” Jackson says, face lighting up. He eats his mashed potatoes and bounces in his seat. “Daddy, can we take Dobby home?”
“We’ll see,” Wes tells him, and I know it’s a firm no from him.
“Please! I want a pet.” Jackson drops his spoon and glares at Wes, crossing his arms. I don’t mean to laugh, but the over-the-top dramatics are a little cute.
“Dobby is really nice,” Quinn goes on. “And will be able to leave in a few weeks.”
Dean shakes his head, looking at Archer. “I can’t believe you let her keep the others. Eight cats? That’s crazy.”
Archer’s eyes fall on Quinn, and the way he looks at her makes me want to turn around and throw up. But mostly because I’d give anything to have someone look at me like that. On its own accord, my head jerks toward Wes.
Nope. Can’t happen. He’s my boss. And he’d never go for someone like me…the real me.
“I have a hard time saying no to Quinn,” Archer says, and I want to gag.
“That’s why they have a baby out of wedlock,” Wes’s grandma says. Everyone at the table rolls their eyes and ignores her. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time she’s brought it up, and neither Quinn nor Archer seem bothered by it. “Though I can’t blame her. I do like a man who’s good with his hands. You know, doc, I’m overdue for my annual exam.” She winks at Archer. Archer shakes his head and turns his face down to his food, concentrating really hard on cutting his steak.
I turn to Wes, trying hard not to laugh. He leans over, shaking his head.
“She hits on Archer every time they’re together. Don’t judge us.”
“I’m not,” I say honestly, and for the life of me, I can’t come up with a single judgment against the Dawsons. And trust me, I’m trying. But they’re all nice. Caring. No one tries to impress each other or puts up a front. Logan cuts up his grandma’s steak for her, and Owen takes Emma again when she gets fussy so Quinn and Archer can eat a meal in peace. Mr. and Mrs. Dawson love each and every one of their children and grandchildren equally, and I can tell just from this brief interaction how proud they are of them.
They’re the perfect American family and I’m convinced they are the real deal. That families can be functional.
And I’m not sure if I hate them or love them for it.
Thinking big family meals like this don’t exist made it easier for me to handle knowing we were nowhere near perfect. Get-togethers with homemade food only happen in the movies. Thinking it wasn’t real helped me deal with the fact that there was a huge part of me missing.
Because I want a family. I want this. But I can’t have it. People like the Dawsons would never want the likes of me sitting around their dinner table if they knew the truth.
I’m Scarlet Cooper, a thief from the South Side with no college education, a former drunk for a father, a sister in jail, and heir to a fortress of lies.
I sit on the living room couch next to Wes, a hot mug of coffee in my hand. His dad and his brother Dean are in his dad’s study going over something for work, and the rest of his family is still in the kitchen.
“Have we scared you off yet?” Wes asks, leaning against the arm of the couch. “We can be a little loud and overwhelming.”
“Not overwhelming. Your family is super nice. Well, except for Kara. You were right about her being a bitch.”
“I never actually said that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
Wes laughs and shifts his weight, moving a little closer to me. Things should be awkward with him, but they’re not anymore. Being around him is as easy as breathing, and while he still holds up walls around him, they’re starting to turn more into windows, letting me see inside.
“Hey,” Logan says, stepping into the living room. Or maybe it’s Owen. Shit. Who was wearing blue a
gain? “You guys want dessert?” He eyes Wes, smirking. Owen. It’s Owen. He’s the smartass of the two, and it’s oddly endearing.
“Yeah,” Wes says quickly before Owen can slip in a line about Wes getting dessert elsewhere. We both know it’s coming.
“Scarlet!” Jackson stops running around the kitchen and gives me a hug. “Will you do the Baby Shark Challenge with me?”
“Sure,” I tell him. “But what is it?”
“What?” Wes’s hand flies to his chest as he fakes his shock. “You don’t know what Baby Shark is?”
“You’re lucky,” his mom says, raising her eyebrows. “It’ll get stuck in your head for days.”
“So it’s a song?” I ask.
“And a movie,” Jackson tells me.
“It’s more like a music video. For kids,” Wes says and shakes his head. “And you gave me crap for not seeing Titanic and here you are never having seen Baby Shark.”
I laugh, heart skipping a beat when I look into his eyes and see that smirk on his face. “You’ve had years to see it, mister. Baby Shark can’t be that old.”
He laughs before shrugging. “You got me there.” Motioning to the dining room, he puts his hand on Jackson’s head and tousles his hair. “And we’ll do one song after dessert. Then it’ll be time to go home and get ready for bed.”
“If you make me leave, I’m going to throw a fit,” he threatens. His face crumples and he tries to make himself cry but stops when Emma lets out a shriek.
“She’s all yours,” Dean says, handing the crying baby to Archer. “I think she pooped.”
“You’re welcome to change her diaper, Uncle Dean,” Archer tells him, laughing. I look around the kitchen as this cute-as-hell family and might start throwing a fit like Jackson when it comes time to leave too.
Though getting back to late-night TV with Wes sounds nice…
“I think it’s time to eat cake,” I say, dropping down to Jackson’s level. He beams and grabs my hand, hopping as he leads me into the dining room. I have another glass of wine and the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had in my entire life. Turns out Kara is a really good cook, which is probably one of the reasons Dean’s with her. Or at least that’s one theory I have.
“Scarlet,” Quinn starts, looking at me from across the table. “Would you guys want to go to the farmers’ market with us on Tuesday? It’s supposed to be nice out and we can walk from Wes’s place.”
“Sure,” I say, looking at Jackson, who nods excitedly. “I’ve never been to a farmers’ market. Are they like the ones in movies?”
“This one isn’t as big. Especially now that it’s fall. I need some mums for our porch.”
I don’t know what a mum is, but I smile and nod anyway.
“And there’s a local winery that sells the best sweet red wine and blueberry cider. Now that Emma is eating solid food I can half like an ounce of wine at night once she goes down.”
“You had me at sweet red wine.” I scrape the last bit of icing off my plate and wonder if it would look bad if I picked it up and licked it. This stuff is like crack. We stay for a bit longer after that, and I hang out with Jackson in the living room while Wes talks about the campaign with his dad and brothers.
It’s dark when we go to leave, and I stop short in the driveway.
“You okay?” Wes asks, unlocking his Jeep.
My head is turned up to the sky. “I’ve never seen this many stars before.” I exhale and my breath clouds around me. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Wes agrees, and I can feel his eyes on me. “Beautiful.”
“I could see them from my house, but not like this. It’s…it’s incredible. It makes me feel so…so…”
“Small?”
“No.” I shake my head, unable to tear my eyes away from the heavens above. “Connected. It makes me feel so connected and grounded at the same time. It doesn’t make sense, I know.” I shake my head and shiver. I didn’t put my coat on, not thinking I’d need it for the quick walk from the house to the Jeep. “Forget it,” I say with a laugh. “It’s stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Wes steps close next to me. Jackson’s opening the back of the Jeep and climbing in. “When I was deployed, I’d look up at the sky and take comfort knowing I was under the same blanket of stars as the people I loved. The people I missed. So, I get what you mean about having it make you feel connected.”
I tip my head down, eyes meeting his. My lips part and another chill goes right through me. Ignoring the fact that I’m dumbly holding my coat in my hands, Weston takes off his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders.
Dammit, Wes, stop being such a nice guy.
A nice guy who loves his son more than anything, has a family I wish could adopt me, and who may or may not be making me feel things I didn’t think I was capable of feeling.
I’m in over my head here, and it won’t be long before the waves crash against the shore and pull me out with the undertow. But being washed out into dark waters isn’t scary.
It’s that I want it to happen.
15
Weston
I push Jackson’s hair back, feeling bad that I forgot to take him for a haircut—again. It’s hard juggling everything, but now it should be easier. Scarlet is here to help with housework, make dinner, and most of all, to care for the single most important person in my life.
“Love you,” I whisper and kiss his forehead before quietly slipping out of his room. Light pours into the dark hall, coming from Scarlet’s room. She’s sitting on her bed, with one hand pressed to her forehead and the other holding her phone. I can tell right away she’s upset.
“Yes, I’m fully aware he needs that medication, but insurance denied it. I’ve been working on it and will pay out of pocket if I have to.” She pauses, listening to whoever is on the phone. “Sure. If the doctor thinks he needs it, then yeah.” Another pause. I should go and not listen to her conversation, but I’m fighting hard against myself and the urge to go comfort her. “How many falls does that make this month? Fuck—sorry. It’s just…I didn’t realize he’d fallen so many times.”
She exhales, and I turn away, giving her privacy. I head into the bathroom to shower, and then put on sweatpants and a T-shirt. Mom packed a plate of leftovers and it’s calling my name. The light is off in Scarlet’s room when I step back into the hall, but her door is open, leading me to believe she’s downstairs.
But she’s not.
She’s nowhere to be found, and I actually go back up and peek in her room—she’s not there—and she’s not in Jackson’s room either.
“Scarlet?” I call quietly when I get to the bottom of the stairs. I’m starting to get concerned when I see her sitting on the back porch, arms wrapped tightly around herself and her head tipped up to the sky. She’s not wearing a coat and has to be cold.
Grabbing a blanket from the living room, I put on my jacket and step onto the porch.
“Hey,” she says, flicking her eyes to me for a nanosecond before looking away.
“It’s freezing out here.”
“I know.” Her breath leaves in silver wisps, hanging in the air. “I didn’t mean to stay out here for so long.”
I go to the steps and sit next to her. “Here.”
“Thanks,” she says and takes the blanket from me. She wraps it around herself and looks back up at the sky.
“Do you believe in aliens?”
“Kind of,” I admit. “I think there has to be other life forces out there, and I do enjoy the Ancient Aliens show on the History Channel.”
“Nerd.” She bumps me with her elbow and smiles.
“What about you?”
“Not in the traditional sense. I don’t think little green Martians are going to come abduct us and probe our butts, but I agree that we can’t be the only life in the universe.”
I laugh. “Not probing butts is a good thing.”
She turns her head down and meets my eyes. “Well, sometimes it can be a good
thing.”
Dammit, Scarlet. Leave it to her to turn a tender moment borderline erotic. Though she could read the phone book and I’d get turned on.
“It’s so quiet here,” she says and rests her head on my shoulder. I clench my fists, trying to keep my hands to myself.
I know how good her lips feel against mine.
If I touch her, I’m going to kiss her again, and there’s a good chance we’ll make love right here on the stairs.
“It is.”
“I thought downtown would be a little louder than this.”
I chuckle. “Main Street is, and we’re three blocks away. Though everything shuts down around ten or eleven. There are a fair amount of festivals in the summer, though, and we have one twenty-four-hour diner. And, of course, Getaway, my brothers’ bar is open until two or three. Friday and Saturday nights are a different story, though once the weather starts to turn, it does quiet down a lot.”
“Do you like it here?”
“I do. I was born and raised here, so maybe I’m biased. But it’s a good town with good people and it’s a safe place to raise a kid.”
She nods and gently touches a scar on the back of my hand. “What is this from?”
I swallow my pounding heart. “Dean threw a glass bottle at me when we were kids. I needed a ton of stitches and he got grounded for a week. I was the one who told him to throw the bottle in the first place, but I never told my parents that.”
She laughs. “I’m surprised he forgave you.”
“I was able to convince him it was all his fault and he felt bad about it for like a year. I milked it for all it was worth, of course.”
“I would too.”
“Do you have any scars?” I hear the words leave my lips but don’t know where they came from. Clearly, my upstairs brain has checked out.
“I do. Nothing too interesting though. I have a cigarette burn on the back of my left shoulder.”
Dawson Family Boxset (Books 1-3) Page 59