“Don’t encourage her,” he chuckles and goes to get the vacuum. We work together to get the kitchen cleaned up, falling into a rhythm without even meaning to. The front door opens, and Mrs. Dawson steps in, carrying two large shopping bags.
“Hi, Scarlet,” she says, setting the bags down. Jackson drags one into the living room and dumps it out, sorting through his clothes. There are new figures for his farm set at the bottom of the second bag, and Jackson races up the stairs to put them in his barn.
Wes’s phone starts buzzing again, and this time it is his brothers.
“Who’s texting you so much?” Mrs. Dawson asks, trying to look over Wes’s shoulder at his phone. He’s too tall to get a look.
“Dean, Logan, and Owen. They’ve been annoying me all night about going out with them.”
“You should!” Mrs. Dawson says right away. “Both of you should. I’ll stay and put Jackson to bed.” She looks at me and smiles. “He told me you’re more fun, but I do miss that little rascal.”
“It’s a school night,” Wes counters.
“I know. I can get him to bed. You should go out. You don’t,” his mom says gently. “And you should.”
“You’re encouraging me to go to a bar on a weekday. Such good parenting, Mom.”
Mrs. Dawson laughs. “Take that as a sign of how much you need to get out of the house. And I’m sure Scarlet would appreciate it too, right?”
“Uh, right,” I agree, even though a quiet night alone not being able to sleep due to excessive amounts of guilt was what I had on my agenda. “I’m curious to see this bar too.”
“Fine,” Weston huffs. “But only for an hour. I do have to work tomorrow.”
“Let me go get changed,” I say and dash up the stairs. Usually, if I go to a bar, I’m pulling out all the stops. But tonight, I’m brushing through my messy hair, putting on just enough makeup to look presentable, and am wearing leggings.
Scratch that. I’m wearing a v-neck black sweater dress that hugs my curves and shows the perfect amount of cleavage. I do enjoy dressing up for myself every now and then. Not wanting to keep Wes or his mom waiting, I hurry out of my room.
Wes and Jackson are coming up the stairs right as I step into the hall.
“He wants me to give him a bath,” Wes says before he sees me. He does a double-take, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to see his reaction.
“Oh, okay.”
“I’ll try to be fast. Give us twenty minutes.”
Jackson races ahead, already stripping out of his clothes. Twenty minutes is all I need to put on more makeup and curl my hair. I finish getting ready a few minutes after Wes and Jackson are downstairs.
“Wow!” Jackson says when he sees me. “Your hair is so bouncy.”
I run my hand over a curl. “Yeah, I guess it is. Do you like it or is it too bouncy?”
“I like it! You look like a princess!”
“Thank you. And you look super cute in those Mickey Mouse jammies.”
Jackson narrows his eyes. “I’m not cute. I’m handsome.”
“Ohhh, I’m sorry,” I say with a laugh. “You are very handsome.”
Jackson beams and looks at Wes. “Like Daddy.”
I can’t disagree. Wes is very handsome. He changed too, and the dark jeans and gray Henley shirt look so good on him.
“We won’t be out too long,” Wes tells his mom, dropping down to his knees to give Jackson a hug and a kiss. “Be good for Grammy. And don’t stay up too late. You have school in the morning.”
“Yay, school!” Jackson throws his arms around Wes, hugging him goodbye. I grab my coat and put on my favorite over-the-knee boots and follow Wes outside.
“You look nice,” I tell him, looking over my shoulder at him.
He looks a little surprised by the compliment. “Thanks. And you…you look beautiful.” The headlights of the Jeep flash as he unlocks it. I turn around, twisting the strap of my purse in my hands, and look at Wes. There’s an undeniable hunger in his eyes, and I know it’ll only take one move to be devoured.
I part my lips, eyeing Wes up and down. He steps in, loose stones on the pavement rolling under his feet. The chill in the air starts to disappear the closer he gets, and I want so badly to reach out and pull him to me. He hesitates, holding my gaze for a moment.
And then he steps around, going to the driver’s side of the Jeep. I exhale heavily, just now realizing that my heart is racing. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s not like it’s been that long since I’ve had sex that I’m desperate to hook up with the first attractive man I can find. He’s my boss. We can’t just hook up and go on like everything is fine and dandy the next day.
And really…I don’t want to hook up with him. I want more, but I know Wes wouldn’t date someone like me. Not the real me.
“Something tells me he’s not going to make it through the first three shots, let alone the twenty-one he wants to do,” Logan laughs, wiping up a spilled drink from the wooden surface of the bar.
“People still try that?” I ask.
Logan nods. “They do. We’d cut them off before they get close, but I’ve never seen anyone get past four shots in a row like that.” He shakes his head. “It wasn’t pretty.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I actually never thought about that before. You probably have your fair share of vomit to clean up.”
“We really try to cut people off before they get to that point, but it’s not always possible. Luckily most people somehow get outside and puke in the parking lot. It’s easy to hose away.”
“Glamorous.”
Logan laughs and steps away to take drink orders from two girls who just walked up. Wes is throwing darts with Dean, and I turn around to watch for a minute. The bar is pretty crowded for a Wednesday, even without the birthday party. The bar itself is amazing and much bigger than I imagined.
“Do you want a drink?” Logan asks, coming back over.
“Sure. Do you have wine?”
“We do.
“Give me a glass of whatever’s cheapest,” I say
“You don’t want what’s cheapest. It’s shit.”
I laugh, looking Logan over. Physically, he looks exactly like his twin. They wear their hair the same and probably share clothes. But there’s a distinct difference between the two, with the biggest being how obviously Logan is crushing on fellow bartender, Danielle. I’ve been watching him flirt and get flustered when she’s around, and she’s giving it right back.
“You work for Wes. I’ll put it on his tab.” Logan steps away and returns a minute later with a glass of sweet red wine.
“This is good,” I say after I take a sip.
“It is, isn’t it?” Logan looks across the bar at Danielle, spacing out for a second before turning back to me. “What’s it like living with my brother? He can be very, uh, uptight at times. Though he’s dealt with an unfair amount of shit in his life.”
“He’s great. Jackson too.”
“You can be honest,” Logan jokes.
“Really,” I laugh. “We get along well, which is nice. I’m there for Jackson, but it helps, ya know? We eat dinner and watch TV together and it’s not weird.”