I need to say something. I pull the burner apart and wipe it down. I really need to say something. I put the clean burner back on and move onto the one behind it. Once that’s cleaned, I put the grates back on and start on the other side, even though it’s clean. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Has it been that long since I’ve had any sort of a connection to a woman? I can’t remember how these things go.
And I’ve also never almost slept with someone and then had to see them like this in the morning. It’s like some sort of tight-rope version of the Walk of Shame. I need to suck it up and tell her I enjoyed last night, I like her, but we have to keep things professional for Jackson’s sake.
“So, last night,” I start and at the exact same time she asks,
“Should I bring something to—sorry, what?”
I shake my head. “Go ahead.”
“Should I bring something to your parents’ tonight?”
“Nah, you don’t have to. I never do.”
She smiles and scrubs at the pan, trying to get the baked-on eggs off. “I’ve never done a family dinner like this before. I don’t know the etiquette.”
I know our family isn’t the norm. There’s seven of us, plus a few spouses and children now, and the fact that we get together once a week goes above and beyond what a lot of people do. But hearing her say she’s never done a family dinner takes me by surprise, and I know she’s not exaggerating the use of “never” like so many people do.
She really hasn’t gone to a big family dinner before.
I look away from the stove, not prepared for the sadness I see in her eyes. She forces a smile and pushes her shoulders back, a move I’ve seen her do before. It’s a move I know, one that might fool the world but starts to break down over time. You can’t lie to your own heart, after all.
“You’re not close to your brother?”
“Oh, I am. I pretty much raised him. He’s nineteen, so the nine-year age difference made me feel more like his mother than anything else, though I guess you get that. You’re the oldest.”
I nod because I don’t know what else to do. Quinn is eight years younger than me, but I never felt like a parent to her. I probably annoyed her growing up—and still to this day—by being an overprotective older brother, but that’s all I was. Her brother. I never felt like I had to raise her or step in and fill a role.
“I have a sister too,” she goes on, turning her head down to look at the dishes she’s washing. “She’s twenty. We didn’t get along growing up much either. For the same reasons.”
“What about now?”
She laughs. “Sometimes.” She rinses the pan and sets it on the counter to dry. “My mom wasn’t the best, and my dad wasn’t in the picture until I was fifteen.”
“Oh, I’m, uh, sorry.”
She waves a hand in the air. “It’s water under the bridge. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and all shit, right?” She goes back to washing dishes, closing the conversation about her family. I know there is more to be told, and I know emotional scars when I see them.
“We can bring wine,” I suggest. “My mom likes wine.”
Scarlet looks up with a smile. “That’s something we have in common.”
I laugh. “You’re off to a good start.”
Chapter Thirteen
Weston
I’ve never once been nervous bringing a girl home to meet my parents. And Scarlet is far from my girl. Still, my heart is beating faster than normal when we get into my Jeep. Scarlet is dressed in a simple black dress. It’s long-sleeved and ends above her knees, with a scoop neckline that shows off her large tits just enough to cause me to want to stare. She curled her hair and put on makeup, looking perfect as usual.
But the way she’s clutching the bottle of wine makes me think she’s nervous too.
“Is there anything I should know about your family?” she asks as I back out of the garage and into the alley that runs behind our house. “Any dark secrets or things?”
There really isn’t. Daisy’s betrayal is the only dark secret in the Dawson family…that I know about, at least. We might not be the most exciting bunch, but I wouldn’t trade my family for anything.
“Don’t bring up cats,” I tell her. “Quinn is almost married and successful, but still very much a crazy cat lady at heart. If she starts talking about cats, she won’t stop.”
“Cats? Well, I wasn’t going to bring them up, but now I’m terrified I’m going to. You’re putting too much pressure on me. Don’t get mad if I start meowing at the dinner table.”
“Funny.” I steal a glance at her, heart hammering even faster when I see her smiling.
“I’m serious. I don’t know if I can handle this kind of pressure right meow.” She looks at me with a straight face. I roll to a stop at a stop sign and stare right back at her. We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before we both start to laugh.
“So that’s your family’s deepest, darkest secret? Your rich and successful sister is a crazy cat lady?”
“I never said she was rich.”
Scarlet’s cheeks flush. “I kinda assumed so from meeting her. Not that she was stuck-up or anything. She had a lot of designer items.”
“Oh, I guess.” I turn down the main street that runs through Eastwood. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff. And she is, so you weren’t wrong. And yeah…I guess that’s the worst of it. Quinn’s fiancé is my brother Dean’s best friend. There was some drama there for a while, but everyone is over it.”
“Ohhh, falling for her older brother’s best friend. That is good drama.”
“And Dean’s wife is kind of a…a…” I trail off, not wanting to badmouth family.
“A bitch?” Scarlet finishes for me, mouthing the word so Jackson doesn’t hear.
“You said it, not me. But yes.”
She smiles again. “Your secret’s safe with me.” She turns her head, looking out the window. She hasn’t seen any of Eastwood yet, and now I feel like an ass about it. I’m off tomorrow as well, and I’m going to make it a point to show her around town.
“Do you like dogs?” I ask, turning off the main road and heading toward the outskirts of town.
“I’m more of a cat person. I think I’ll get along well with your sister.” Her cherry-red lips pull into a smile. “Why?”
“My mom has four dogs. Now that we’re all grown, she’s a dog mom.”
Scarlet laughs. “She’s one of those.”
“You know the type?”
“I do.”
Jackson looks up from the backseat. “I like dogs.”
“I know you do, buddy,” I tell him. He’s been asking for one for a while now. I briefly considered letting him take home one of the kittens Quinn’s been caring for once it’s old enough, but I wasn’t home enough to feel like it’d be fair to any animal. Though now that Scarlet’s here…
“I like dogs too,” Scarlet tells him. “But I like cats more. They’re elegant and so mysterious.”