“Where’s Jackson?”
“Quinn and Archer’s. It’s safe there with all their alarms, and Archer is home today.”
“Good.” She rolls over and cups my chin with her hand. “I love you, Weston Dawson.”
“And I love you, Scarlet Cooper.” I kiss her again and lay down, pulling her onto my chest.
I didn’t play it safe. I listened to my heart instead of my head this time around, and right here in bed with Scarlet is exactly where we’re supposed to be.
“Wes?”
“Yeah?”
“What if Daisy does run that article?”
“I don’t think she will. Blackmailing me like that will look bad in family court. I reminded her of that when she was in handcuffs.”
“But if she does anyway? Your family will hate me.”
“They won’t hate you,” I assure her, though I am a little anxious about them finding out the truth. Dean can be judgy and Mom can hold a grudge like it’s nobody’s business. Dad is more practical, which is where I got it from, and while he might not have an easy time trusting Scarlet for a while, I don’t think he’ll object to us being together.
“I really like your family.”
“They like you too. But,” I start, being honest. “Finding out the truth from an article will be a hard pill to swallow.”
“Maybe we should tell them. Now.”
“Now?”
“Just in case.”
I trace the curve of her hip with my finger. “I really don’t think we have to. And if the people in the county can be that easily swayed in who to vote for, then maybe I don’t want to be in charge of keeping them safe.”
Scarlet laughs. “I’ll still feel terrible.”
“Don’t. If losing the race means I get to be with you, then I’ve won.”
41
Weston
“Hey, buddy!” I step past the dogs, holding the bag of takeout a little higher to keep Rufus from sniffing at it.
“Daddy!” Jackson comes running. “We have to be quiet,” he says loudly. “Emma just fell asleep.”
“Okay,” I whisper back, shuffling into the kitchen. Archer got called in to for surgery so Quinn and the kids came over to our parents, just to be safe.
“Hey, Jackson.” Scarlet takes her coat off, smiling down at him.
“Are you still sick?” he asks her, taking her hand. Both Scarlet and I pause for a moment until I remember telling Jackson Scarlet wasn’t feeling well and that’s why she wasn’t home.
“She’s better now,” I tell him. “Are you hungry?”
Mom is sitting at the island counter, which is covered in blueprints. “You didn’t have to bring fast food.” She raises her eyebrows. “I could have cooked.”
“I thought Jackson would like a Happy Meal,” I say and Jackson gets excited. “I got one for Quinn too.”
Mom laughs. “She’ll like that I’m sure.”
I hand the bag of food to Scarlet, who gives me a little nod before ushering Jackson to the table.
“Mom?” I ask. “Can we talk in private?”
“Of course, honey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I inhale slowly. Scarlet was right: it’s better if the truth comes from me, no matter how uncomfortable this conversation will be. Mom follows me into the sunroom. We walk past Quinn, who fell asleep on the couch in the living room with Emma on her chest. “It’s about Scarlet.”
“Is she alright?”
“She is.” I pace toward the windows overlooking the backyard. God, this is awkward. But I know it has to be said. I want to build a life with Scarlet, and we can’t have this lingering. Well, she can’t. I’m fine with letting the past be in the past.
“She told me she used to con people.”
I can feel Mom’s eyes on me. “What?”
I turn around, swallowing hard. “She used to be a con artist and would hustle money out of men at bars.”
Mom doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “But she seems so sweet.”
“Yeah, she does.” I run my hand through my hair. “She wanted you all to know in case it ever came up again later.”
“Does she still con people?”
“No.”
Mom sinks down onto a lounge chair. “Why did she tell you?”
“Now that’s a funny story.” I pace to the other side of the room. “She has a sister…who’s in jail.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. She said her sister got caught up with the wrong crowd and tried to rob a store.”
“Jesus Christ,Wes!” Mom’s eyes widen. “Scarlet is a con-artist and her sister is a robber. And you trust her with Jackson?”
“Yes,” I say seriously. “I do. And I love her.”
Mom’s lips pull into a thin line. “Are you sure you’re not too infatuated with her to see clearly?”
“I’m sure. She’s had a hard life, Mom. Her own mother was an addict and Scarlet dropped out of school to raise her brother and sister. She was only able to go back when her alcoholic father showed up, and then her mother OD’d and died. Scarlet is the one who found her and had to tell her siblings she was dead. Her father is in a shithole of a nursing home and she’s the only one taking care of him.”
Mom falls silent and I pace back and forth, waiting to hear from her.
“Mom?” I finally ask. “Say something.”
Mom flicks her eyes to mine. “Poor thing. She turned out better than most in her situation, I suppose.” She leans back, rubbing her forehead. I’ll leave out the part about Scarlet planning to con me for now.
“Do you think differently of her now?”
“Yes,” Mom answers honestly. “But it doesn’t make me like her any less. I feel bad for her, but I don’t think being a victim of circumstance excuses poor choices.”
“I don’t either, and Scarlet will agree. She doesn’t want that life anymore.”
Mom, who’s patience and understanding has always amazed me, looks up and smiles. “I don’t think that’s a problem now, is it?”
I smile back. “No. Her life is here now.” With a sigh, I sit next to Mom. “Do you believe people can change?”
“Yes, but only if the change comes from within. You can’t change a person, but they can change themselves. Do you think Scarlet wants to change?”
“I know she wants to. And she has. Who she is now…that’s who she’s meant to be.”
Mom puts her arm around my shoulders. “You’ve changed too.”
“I have?”
“For the better.”
I look through the sunroom doors in the general direction of the kitchen. “We have Scarlet to thank for that.”
42
Scarlet
“I think Salsa is a good name.” I give Jackson an encouraging nod.
“It is cute,” Quinn agrees.
“Do you think Daddy will let Salsa come home with us?” Jackson picks up the kitten and kisses her head. Wes got a little nervous around the time he was supposed to go into work. Instead of having Jackson come back here, I went over to Quinn’s. Jackson and I are staying the night here, and Wes is coming by in the morning.
Even though Daisy was arrested and released with potential charges, we have no idea if she knows I’m back. And once she finds out her plans to sabotage the race, drive me out of town, and get Wes back didn’t work, she’ll be pissed. She might do something crazy.
Though if she’s smart, she’ll be on her best behavior so she can try to convince a judge that she’s worthy of any sort of visitation rights with Jackson, which seem unlikely considering she basically tried to kidnap him.
Still, I’m worried. Worried she’ll hurt Jackson and worried she’ll ruin Weston’s career. His parents know—more or less—of my colorful past, and while I can tell his mom was trying hard not to hold it against me, I know she doesn’t fully trust me yet.
And I don’t blame her.
At least she didn’t come after me with a pitchfork, or get the
stake ready for a burning. The twins already know, which just leaves Dean, Archer…and Quinn. I don’t want my boyfriend’s sister to hate me. And I don’t want to lose the woman who’s quickly becoming my best friend.
“We’ll work on it.” I smile and pet the kitten. “He is very friendly. Are they ready to leave their mom yet?”
“They are, but don’t tell Archer,” Quinn whispers. “I’ll miss them.”
“Maybe we can take two,” I say. Then you’ll be able to visit, and you can keep the others, right?”
“I’d like it.”
“You have enough space.”
“That’s what I said!” Quinn laughs. We’re sitting in her living room, and five of the eight cats are in here with us. Emma laughs when a fat orange cat comes over and rubs his head on her. He lazily saunters off and she crawls after him.
“She’s fast!”
“I know.” Quinn gets up to grab her baby. “Too fast. I’m already getting anxiety about the balcony looking over the living room. I wake up in the middle of the night thinking she fell over.”
“That’s so unlikely to happen,” I tell her. “Lots of people have fancy catwalk thingies like that in their houses.”
“I know.” She wrinkles her nose. “I told Archer I want to line the floor with mattresses just in case.”
“You’ll encourage her to jump,” Archer teases, coming into the living room. “I would have if I were a kid.”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Quinn whisper-yells, but Jackson is too enthralled in the kitten he’s renamed Salsa to hear anything. I yawn and look at the clock. Thank God it’s almost bedtime. I’m wiped out.
It’s been a long fucking day, which I feel like is a summary of my life. Well, until Weston, that is. Things changed the moment I stepped foot on his front porch, and I think I knew, deep down, that I wanted that change.
I needed that change.
Emma slips as she’s crawling and hits the floor. Her two little bottom teeth puncture her lip, and blood starts spilling out of her mouth. Quinn has a moment of panic, picking up Emma and going back and forth between checking her mouth and wanting to comfort her baby. I run into the kitchen to get a towel, and Archer calmly sits on the floor and tells Quinn it’s okay.
“The blood is mixing with her saliva and it looks like she’s bleeding more than she really is,” he says.
Jackson gets freaked out, and I take him into the kitchen to avoid seeing the blood. Emma is screaming and crying, and he’s upset that his cousin is hurt and upset. It’s pure chaos for a good five minutes, but then we get everyone settled down and up to bed.
Half an hour later, I shut the door to the guest room, sneaking out. Jackson fell asleep fast tonight, and while I could lay there and snuggle with him, I know if I didn’t get up, I’d end up falling asleep too.
“Should we have cake with our tea?” Quinn asks. I wash out the pink skull tea set Weston and Jackson got for me as a surprise.
“Of course.”
“Good. Because I made one earlier today. I was craving Funfetti cake bad.”
“Craving?” I raise my eyebrows.
“I’m not pregnant. Or else I better not be. I really want to go on Tower of Terror on our honeymoon,” she laughs. “But I am dying to have another.”
“You’re a good mom. You should have at least one more.”
“We want three or four.” She opens the pantry and all the cats come running, circling her feet and meowing.
“I take that back. Maybe you shouldn’t have this many cats.”
“Their meowing is like singing.” She looks at Archer, who’s sitting at the large island counter eating. “Isn’t it, babe?”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s music to my ears.”
I laugh and reach down, picking up one of the kittens. “Are you Salsa?”
“That’s Binx,” Archer says. “I mean, not like I can tell them apart or care or anything.”
“He really likes Binx,” Quinn loudly whispers.
“I guess you’re staying then, huh, little guy?”
“He is.”
Quinn sets the cake down, shoos the cats off the counter at least a dozen times, and heats up water for our tea. Archer goes upstairs to bed, saying he has early surgery in the morning, leaving Quinn and me downstairs to eat and talk until we go to bed as well.
I cut into my cake and sip my tea. I look at Quinn, excited to have someone I can actually call a friend. And she’s my boyfriend’s sister, which makes things ten times better.
Well, almost.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Sure.” She adds more sugar to her tea. “What is it?”
“It’s more like a confession. Promise you won’t judge me?”
“I promise.”
And she doesn’t.
The mattress sinks down and my eyes flutter open. I’m too tired to realize the body next to me is too large to be Jackson, and I lazily push myself up to tell him I’ll be right up.
But then I see Wes, and my heart flutters.
“Morning, sunshine.” He smiles down at me. He’s in his uniform and holy hell that man is fine. I sit up only to pull him down on me.
“What time is it?”
“Seven AM. I came here instead of going home. I don’t think Quinn was too happy about having to let me in.” He kisses me, brushes my hair from my face, and sits up. He’s wearing a utility belt around his waist which isn’t comfortable to lay down on.
“We were up pretty late talking.” I sit up again, resting my head on Wes’s shoulder. “I told her everything.”
“Everything-everything, or the version of everything I told my parents.”
“I was going to tell that version, then I drank half a bottle of wine.”
Wes smiles. “And?”
“She didn’t kick me out.”
“That’s a start.”
I nod, not wanting to get up but I have to pee and I’m pretty close to keeling over and dying of thirst. “Right. She might need some time to process, but I feel better. I want to start fresh.”
“You are.” He goes in to kiss me again but Jackson comes in, excited to see his dad. I use the bathroom and we all go downstairs. Quinn is in the kitchen, and all the cats are following her around meowing.
“You really are a crazy cat lady, sis,” Wes chuckles.
“Thank you.” Quinn looks up with a smile. Her eyes meet mine and the smile wavers. Shit.
“Once you’re done feeding the beasts, can I talk with you?” Weston asks.
“Yeah, of course.”
She gives Emma a few more Puffs and then feeds the cats. I pour Jackson a cup of milk and we both get excited when we realize Wes brought us all donuts.
“What’s Daddy talking to Aunt Winny about?” Jackson asks.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him, though I have an idea. I set his milk on the table and see the paper under the donut box. My fingers shake as I reach for it.
My picture isn’t on the front page. Or the second. Or third. Jackson laughs watching me thumb through the paper as fast as I can.
“We’re good,” Wes says, coming back into the room. He knows what I’m looking for.
“We are?”
Quinn takes Emma out of her highchair and sits at the table. “Yes.” She meets my eye. “We are good.”
“You’ve already looked through it,” Wes says, coming up behind me. It’s Monday morning, and I keep going through the paper just to be sure I didn’t miss anything. “There’s nothing incriminating in there.”
“Thank God.” I exhale. “One more day.”
“Yes, and I’m telling you, most people have already made up their minds when they wake up tomorrow morning.”
“You’re going to win.”
“I might. Or I might not.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee and join Wes at the table. Jackson is still sleeping, and Wes’s alarm went off on accident this mornin
g. He doesn’t have to work today but he forgot to turn off the alarm. Once he was awake, he came downstairs for breakfast. I was going to go back to sleep but got too anxious to see the paper.
“I’m going to talk to Daisy today,” Weston says. “I’m assuming she’s at her parents’. I’ll call over there and see.”
“What are you going to talk about?”
“How we’ll proceed with things. Actually,” he says and stands up, “I’ll call them now. Who cares if it’s early.”
“So Jackson’s other set of grandparents aren’t involved at all?”
“They send him presents for his birthday and Christmas, but that’s it.”
“That’s so weird.”
Wes nods. “They feel like they have to side with Daisy on it. I think it’s easier if they pretend like he’s not here.”
“Their loss.”
“Yes, and a big one.” He gets his phone and calls Daisy’s parents. “Well, that’s shocking,” he says sarcastically when he hangs up.
“What?”
“She skipped town already and is back in Chicago.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Wow, though it is refreshing to hear about someone who makes worse choices than I do.”
Wes sighs. “I don’t know if this is good or bad. But I think I should call Mr. Williams and let him know what happened.”
“Good idea. Get everything on record.”
“Yeah, it’ll come up again, I’m sure.” He comes back to the table. “In the meantime, I got us tickets to go to the planetarium today.”
“No way.”
“Yes. And I thought maybe when we’re done, we could visit your dad.”
“You want to take Jackson there? My dad can be a little unfiltered.”
Wes cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve met my nana, right?”
I laugh and reach for Wes. He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. “I love you, Weston.”
“And I love you.”
43
Weston
I put my arm around Scarlet, smiling as we watch Jackson tear into his Christmas presents. The three of us are wearing matching pajamas, which was Scarlet’s idea, not mine. She said she bought them as a joke, but as rather insistent on all of us wearing them and taking a picture together last night on Christmas Eve.
Dawson Family Boxset (Books 1-3) Page 77