BACKUP PLAN
Book Seven in the Dawson Family Series
Copyright 2020
Emily Goodwin
Chapter One
Chloe
Freshman year…
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I blink back tears and slowly turn away from the register after swiping my lunch card. I grip the edges of the tray so hard my fingers hurt. The cafeteria is a sea of mostly happy teenagers, excitedly talking—and bragging—about their summer vacations, comparing tan lines, and complaining about being back at Silver Ridge High.
Taking a slow step forward, I concentrate both on not slipping and falling in these heels, while at the same time, looking around the crowded lunchroom for a place to sit. Knowing pretty much everyone is both the blessing and the curse of this small town, and right now I’m wishing I could curse every single of one of them in this room.
Okay, not every single one. Just Derek Rogers and everyone within a ten-foot radius of him. I clench my jaw, preparing to walk past his table. Busy talking and laughing with his football buddies, he pays me no attention, but Lauren Wallace does. She makes it a point to give me a pressed smile and slip her arm through Derek’s right as I walk by.
The lump rises in my throat, and I know I’m going to lose my battle with my tears. I stare straight ahead and keep walking, praying it’s not obvious that I’m frantically looking around for a place to sit. We have what’s called a “mixed lunch” here at Silver Ridge High, where students of all grade levels eat together. The entire school is put into one big group and then randomly divided. My best friend, Farisha, is in the lunch hour after this one, along with our friends Courtney and Arron.
Which reminds me of the second curse of a small town: there are fewer people to try and fit in with. Farisha is the peanut butter to my jelly, and not being together sucks more than I thought.
Especially since Lauren is now sticking her tongue down Derek’s throat. I speed forward, almost slip since I’m not used to wearing heels, and sit at the table in the back with a group of kids everyone calls “the stoners.” Whether they actually smoke pot all the time or not, I have no idea, but they look at me like the outsider that I am.
Still, I’d rather be here than anywhere near Derek and Lauren fucking Wallace. I’m not jealous, or even all that upset Derek dumped me over an instant message that I didn’t read until after he stood me up for a date. No, it’s not that I wasted a whole summer with that asshole because—hah—he wasted it with me too, and I never put out, which was part of the reason he dumped me.
But it’s what he said.
We’re different. You’re weird and not like the other girls.
Farisha held my hand as I read the message over three times, trying to figure out if I should take it all as a hidden compliment or accept his words at face value. Because I know I’m different. I know I’m not like most of the girls at Silver Ridge High…or in the rest of the world, for that matter. I try not to let it bother me, but what if it’s true?
“Hey,” a deep male voice comes from across the table, and I jerk up, blinking back tears. Sam Harris sets his lunch tray down and takes the seat opposite me. “You okay, Chloe?”
My heart flutters in my chest, and I’m well aware half the female population in the lunchroom is looking at me right now. And I hope that includes Lauren fucking Wallace. “I’m fine,” I say with a fake smile, picking up my fork and stabbing it into my salad.
“Really?” Sam cocks an eyebrow and reaches for a greasy piece of pizza. “You don’t look fine.”
“It’s just first-day jitters,” I lie, though I know Sam can see right through me, which is why he came to sit with me in the first place, I’m sure of it. I’m thankful, of course, because now I’m not alone and I have someone familiar with me, but I hate the feeling of needing to be rescued. My day just got significantly better, that’s for sure, and being with Sam always puts a smile on my face.
My parents were friends with Sam’s parents back in the day, and Sam’s mom was over-the-moon happy that her childhood best friend moved back into town. And Mrs. Harris was there for us after Mom died, bringing us a casserole every week for nearly a year.
Sam is two years older than me but only a grade above me, thanks to cutoff dates and him being one of the oldest in his class and me being the youngest in mine. We became instant friends when we first met and have somehow stayed close despite him being Mr. Popular and me being dubbed Creepy Chloe because of my interest in the paranormal and my slight borderline obsession with all things Harry Potter. Though Sam’s baby sister is just as into magic and fantasy as I am, and having that camaraderie with the youngest Harris has always been respected by Sam, as well as his other brothers.
But I worry that’s all he sees me as…another little sister. The thought alone devastates me, because for as long as I can remember, I’ve been in love with Sam Harris.
*
“So,” Farisha starts, closing her locker at the end of the day. “What do you think? Does it feel good to be a high schooler now or what?”
I shove my English book into my locker, messing up my neat stack of school supplies already.
“It’s not that bad,” I say with a half-smile. And really, the rest of the day wasn’t, thanks to Sam sitting with me at lunch. It brightened my whole mood, reminding me that I don’t have to conform like everyone else in order to have friends. Closing my locker, I swing my backpack up on one shoulder. “You really think you can get your lunch switched?”
Farisha nods. “All I have to do is tell Mom I was feeling a little shaky and she’ll freak out and insist I need to eat a whole thirty minutes earlier.”
“It’s nice to have your mom be the school nurse,” I say, though we joked that Mrs. Kapoor only got a job as the school nurse so she could keep an eye on Farisha’s diabetes. After one incident last year where her blood sugar dropped so low she fainted, Farisha’s mom has been way overbearing.
“Or I could have you moved to mine,” she tests, trying not to smile.
“How would that make sense?” I play dumb to her hidden question. “You’re trying to eat earlier because of low blood sugar.”
“I can make it work. You wouldn’t care, would you?” We start walking down the hall.
“No,” I say with a straight face, unable to look her in the eyes. “As long as we’re together.”
“Really? You’re sure you don’t want to give up being able to look at—”
“Sam!” I interrupt, seeing him turn down the hall. I elbow Farisha in a not-so-obvious move meant to shut her up. She knows about my massive crush on Sam Harris, though could you blame me?
He’s tall, somehow always tan, and muscular. The blue shirt he’s wearing matches his dark blue eyes, reminding me of the lake at night. They’re eyes you can drown in, and when I look at Sam, I’ll gladly let him pull me under. Pair them with his sharp jaw, full lips, and perpetually messy yet sexy dark hair, and it’s no secret why every girl in Silver Ridge has eyes for Sam.
“Chloe,” he says back, smiling. “How’d your first day go?”
“Cood,” I say and then close my eyes, willing my face not to flush.
“Cool and good?” Sam questions, smirk on his lips.
“Yeah.” I flick my eyes to him and then back to the floor. “I was going to say cool and then realized that’s not an answer to how my day was.”
Sam chuckles. “Are you headed home? I can drive you if you want.”
My mouth goes dry, and I look at Farisha. We were going to walk home together and I’m not blowing her off.
“Mom wants to drive me home today,” she says without missing a beat. “I’ve got to go hang out in the nurse’s office for a bit now. I’ll talk to you later,” she tells me, and I do my best to nonverbally thank her. “Bye, Sam.”
“See ya,” he tells her, and as soon as she’s a few paces away, I get nervous. I’ve always been myself around Sam, but now that we’re in school together, I’m aware of everything. Of the way everyone looks at him. How well-liked he is by the students and the teachers. He’s an all-around good guy, even if he does go through girlfriends faster than I can binge read the Harry Potter series on a rainy weekend.
“I have to pick up Jacob and Mason,” he tells me as we walk out into the parking lot. It’s mid-August and still super hot outside. “So we have like twenty minutes to kill before going to the middle school. We can go by the lake.”
“Sure,” I say, ready to agree with just about anything Sam suggests. His birthday was only two weeks ago, and I know he rushed out and got his license as soon as possible. I’m not positive he’s supposed to be driving me, or even his siblings for that matter, but I’m sure as hell not going to question it.
I relax as soon as I’m in his Jeep. The top is off, but when the door shuts, it’s like I’m shutting out school and I can be myself again. I tip my head up, feeling the wind in my hair as Sam speeds out of the school parking lot, heading to the lake Silver Ridge was built around. Neither of us talk as we get out, climbing down a rocky hill to the shore. We only have about seven minutes until we need to go and pick up Sam’s brothers, but I’ll take whatever I can get.
“So what was really going on today?” Sam asks as I take my shoes off and dip my feet in the water. There’s no way I’m making it back up past those rocks in these heels without breaking an ankle.
“Nothing.”
“Really?” He picks up a rock and throws it into the lake. “That didn’t look like nothing.”
“Fine,” I huff. “You know I was dating Derek over the summer, right?”
“Was? Did that asshole do something to you?”
I press my lips together. “If he did, I’d handle it.”
“I have no doubt you would,” Sam laughs.
I step deeper into the water, gathering the hem of my black dress up to my thighs. “He said I was too weird to be with,” I admit, shaking my head. “And I let his words get to me. Maybe I am too weird. Maybe I will be alone forever because I’d rather stay home and write fan fiction than go see Derek’s brother’s band play in Missy Spencer’s garage. It smells like soup in there. Always.”
Sam laughs and runs his hand through his hair. “It does. Tomato soup. I’ve been in there before watching said band. You didn’t miss anything.”
“Well, good.” I bend over to pick up a rock, not thinking that with my dress gathered up, I just flashed Sam my butt. At least I have cute undies on today.
“And Chloe,” Sam starts when I straighten up, looking at the smooth rock in my hands. “You’re not going to be alone forever. You are weird, but that’s what I like about you.”
My heart swells in my chest. “I hope you’re right about that.”
“Hey. I’ll make you a deal. If you’re still alone when you turn thirty—and if I am too—let’s run away to Vegas and get married.”
“Sure,” I agree with a giggle, knowing there’s no way Sam will still be single by the time he turns twenty, let alone thirty.
“I mean it!”
“Well, then we better start planning our wedding,” I tease. “I’m undatable.”
“Oh, please,” he waves his hand in the air. “Any guy would be lucky to have you.”
My heart flutters again and hope bubbles up inside of me. Maybe I do have a chance with Sam. Maybe he looks at me the way I look at him and we—
“Shit,” he says suddenly.
“What?”
“I was supposed to meet Tiffany after school. Fuck, she’s going to be pissed.” He shrugs. “I’ll just make it up to her later.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and laughs. My heart sinks, and I let the rock fall out of my hands, splashing into the water and washing away the little hope I had.
Sam’s just being nice. Saying things to make me feel better. But he’ll never see me the way I want him to. Who am I kidding? I’m Creepy Chloe, the weird girl who wears too much black, brings tarot cards to school, and wrote a fifty-five-page Harry Potter-meets-Charmed fanfic for her eighth-grade creative writing assignment.
And Sam is, well, Sam. Smart. Good-looking. Athletic. Normal.
As much as I want to believe fate will intervene and Sam and I could end up together, I know the only way it would happen is if everything falls apart and he has to resort to me—his backup plan.
Chapter TwoChloePresent day…Spiraling.It’s what’s happening to me…I think. And the fact that I’m not sure only proves just how fast I’m spiraling. Falling down at a dizzying rate. The world spins so fast I can’t make out anything around me. I’m a big fat fucking fake and it’s only a matter of time before they expose me, and what better way than to do it on live TV, broadcast nationally to several million viewers.Fuck.What was the question? Sweat drips between my breasts, thankfully out of sight from the live audience’s prying eyes. I’m regretting turning down that pre-show glass of wine, going instead for some gross concoction of kale, green tea, and some nasty shit that was probably scraped out of a dirty fish tank with a fancy name slapped on it.I swallow hard and force a smile, flicking my eyes from the show host to the audience.“Fight like a girl,” I say, not recognizing my own voice leaving my lips. It’s not an answer to the question I was asked, I know, yet the audience
Chapter ThreeChloe“I’m not going to lie,” Karina starts, sitting back in her leather chair. Her jet-black hair falls in perfect waves around her pretty face. “That was rough.”“I didn’t think it was that bad,” I counter, internally wincing. We just got done watching my interview from this morning. I might have cringed more than once while watching. I looked aloof, and you could tell my heart just wasn’t in it. Because it wasn’t.“I’ve seen worse,” my publicist agrees, brushing dog fur from her ivory-colored suit jacket. “Never from you, though. What’s going on?” Her brown eyes pierce mine, waiting for a response—an honest response. She’ll keep her gaze trained on me until I crack, and I love and hate her for it. She’s petite and girly but is ruthless when it comes to her clients. We started working together when Shadowfall got optioned for film and has gotten me an impressive number of sponsorships and exposure since then.“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “I feel…off.”“Does this
Chapter FourSam“You’re overthinking it.” I cast my line into the water and let my eyes fall shut, face bathed in the warmth from the sun. The boat gently rocks back and forth, and it would easily lull me to sleep if I were to sit down. Finishing a string of twelve-hour shifts does that to me.“That means shit coming from someone like you,” Jacob deadpans. “You don’t think. At all. You’ll fuck anything in a skirt.”“I have standards,” I toss back, trying to act offended.Mason lets out a snort of laughter and slowly reels in his line.“You’re worse.” Jacob sets his fishing pole down and turns to mess with the boat’s radio, which isn’t picking up any signal this far out on the lake. Country music crackles through, and the fucker leaves it.“If by worse you mean no strings—ever—then yeah. I’m happy to be worse.” Mason reaches for his beer. “And Sam’s right. You’re overthinking it. Go out with her. It’s just one date that’ll lead to one night, well, if you can be the least bit competent
Chapter FiveChloeEyes closed, I lie back on the dock. The hot sun beats down on me, and I’ve been sweating since the minute I came out here. There are quite a few people out on the lake today, and the distant sound of boats and jet skis interrupts the quiet of the forest surrounding the lake. Silver Lake is large and kind of horseshoe-shaped. It’s divided into two parts, with the part Dad’s house is on being the “quiet side” of the lake reserved for fishing or any other sort of activity that doesn’t produce a wake. Its counterpart is where the fun happens, and the annual boat races are still held every July, just like they were years ago.I didn’t grow up along the lake like this. We lived in a small house right in the middle of Silver Ridge. Mom always wanted to live on lakefront property, but even in this small town, it was too expensive. It was her dream to buy one of the historic homes and fix it up, but she died before that could ever happen.When this house popped up for sale,
Chapter SixSamChloe Fisher is in town.Rory’s words echo through my head for the millionth time. Chloe. In town. This town. The one I’m in right now. It’s no surprise, not any more than it is for me to come back. Chloe’s from Silver Ridge and her father still lives here.So why the fuck is it getting under my skin so much? And why can’t I get her off my mind? I’ve made it a point not to think about Chloe. I haven’t let the vision of her dark auburn hair flash through my mind. I haven’t missed the feel of her fingers sweeping against mine, wanting to grab my hand but too shy to link our fingers together.I haven’t let myself think about the pale orange-and-red freckles that dot Chloe’s cheeks when she’s in the sun too long, how her hair curls around her face at the base of her neck when it’s hot outside, or how good she looked in a bikini the summer of her senior year. She visited her grandparents the first half of the summer and came back a cup size bigger, but I wasn’t distracted w
Chapter SevenChloe“That wasn’t very nice.” I throw my pen down on my open notebook and flop back onto the lounge chair. I’m hot, sweaty, and want a drink, but I was determined to stay out here on the dock until I came up with a detailed outline for the next two chapters of my book. I got one chapter written in the early morning hours, after waking up at four AM with my characters talking in my head so loudly I couldn’t not get up and write. I went back to sleep around six-thirty, woke up around ten, and have been out here, making myself suffer as punishment.Because my characters are going in a totally different direction than I originally anticipated, throwing even me for a loop, which is why I’m speaking harshly to them right now. Trading my notebook for a paperback copy of the very first book in the series, I randomly crack it open and start reading, going over the details and plot I love so very much.Three chapters later, I lie back, put the book over my face for shade, and get
Chapter EightSamThe world stops, and the air is sucked out of my chest. Wind and rain rage around us, and thunder booms when her full lips part, drowning out whatever she said. I blink, afraid if I look away she’ll disappear somehow, that maybe I’m just imaging all this.She’s drenched from the rain, dark red hair hanging around her face, somehow highlighting her intense green eyes. Dressed in hiking boots, black leggings, and a white t-shirt with the words Shadowfall along the collar, my eyes go right to her breasts on their own accord and—fuck—I can see the faint outline of her nipples through the wet fabric.I’ve wondered what Chloe looks like naked multiple times over the years. I’ve caught glimpses of her here and there, most happening innocently enough. But seeing her—all of her—has been the subject of my dreams more times than once.The years have been good to her, and even standing here, barely out of the pouring rain, with wet hair, no makeup, and mud splattered on her feet
Chapter NineChloeLike a sister.I close the door to Sam’s BMW with a little more force than necessary, fingers slipping from the handle due to the rain. Focusing my attention on the front door of the house, I walk up the driveway, each step squishing beneath my feet.I’m so stupid. Naive. I guess I’ll never change.Sam is still in the driveway when I get onto the porch, and I make it a point not to turn around and look at him. Really, I shouldn’t be mad. Not at him. He did nothing wrong this time, and offering to take me home so I don’t have to walk in the rain was nice of him, and I’m quite thankful because thunder is rumbling overhead again. The storm is getting its second wind—literally. It would have taken me a while to walk back from the picnic shelter. I’m already cold, and there’s no promise a tree wouldn’t have fallen on me. If the impact alone didn’t kill me, I could very easily become hypothermic and die a slow, painful death.Okay, probably not, since it’s still seventy-f
EpilogueChloe“Relax,” I tell Sam, trying not to laugh.“I thought they said riding a horse was like riding a bike. Once you learn how to do it, it just comes back to you.”Now I do laugh. I circle Spartan around, clicking my tongue at Drake, an eighteen-year-old horse we recently adopted so Sam can go trail riding with me. Drake is the perfect “husband horse” and has much more whoa than go, and right now is doing everything he can to pull the reins from Sam’s hands so he can graze.“Pull him up,” I tell Sam. “And ask him forward. He’s testing you.”“Come on, buddy,” Sam urges and asks the horse to walk forward. Spartan, who’s ready to race along the dirty trail, speed-walks up ahead, acting as good motivation for Drake to follow us. It’s a rare sixty-five-degree day in early March, and we’re taking advantage of the nice weather while we can.I leave for a month-long tour in Europe in just a few days, and instead of just doing book signings, Charles and are attending panels to talk a
Chapter Forty-nineSamFour months later…I stomp snow off my shoes and enter my apartment building, chilled right down to the bone just from the short walk from my car to the building. It’s been a long day, and work and the snow and cold makes me even more eager to get inside my warm apartment.“Good evening, Dr. Harris,” one of the attendants says.“Good evening. Staying warm?” I pull my gloves off and stuff them in my pocket.“I’m trying,” he replies with a chuckle, pushing the door closed behind me, wanting to seal off the cold air as fast as possible. I quickly grab my mail and then head up, squeezing in the elevator with a few other people.I’m the last to get off and hurry down the hall to my apartment, unlocking the door with haste.“Hey, babe,” I say and step inside, shutting the door behind me. “What are you doing in the dark?”Chloe turns away from the living room window, mug of steaming coffee in her hand. She’s illuminated by the light coming in behind her, so beautiful i
Chapter Forty-eightChloeTurning away from the coffee pot that I was plugging in, I look to see who’s at the door. I don’t remember having any deliveries scheduled for today, but I have a bad habit of buying stuff off of Instagram ads and then forgetting about it. Only delivery drivers and a select few friends know the code to my gate, though that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t have hopped the fence.“Can I help you?” Charles asks right as it hits me that someone could have seen Charles come over and is trying to get a candid photo of him. Which now makes me feel bad for asking him to answer the door, but dammit, I need coffee. I fell asleep early—before I could drink more wine—but I can tell a headache is coming on fast.Eric got up nearly an hour ago and has been out jogging since. Charles and I dragged out butts out of our rooms not all that long ago, both grumbling about being too old to drink like we used to.Unable to see who’s at the door, I sidestep, and Sam’s clear blue eyes
Chapter Forty-sevenSamLooking around the airport, I take a drink of my coffee, waiting for the caffeine rush to kick in. I need it. It’s going to be a long night. There were no direct overnight flights to LA from Chicago tonight, so I’m landing in Texas, changing planes, and will get to LA early in the morning. It’s the fastest way I can get to Chloe, and I cannot fucking wait to pull her into my arms and tell her the good news.I feel a little bad that I didn’t call Chloe when I was leaving the hospital, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this from her, and I know how much she’ll enjoy the surprise. I was able to get the next two days off and then work an overnight shift on the third. As long as I’m able to sleep on the plane, I’ll be fine.I take another drink of coffee and lean back in the uncomfortable chair, fighting off the urge to fall asleep. I’ll close my eyes as soon as I’m on the plane, but I don’t want to take the risk of missing my flight if I fall asleep now.My pho
Chapter Forty-sixChloeI turn on my electric fireplace and grab two wine glasses, joining Charles on the couch. We’re back at my place, and I feel a little better after talking over lunch.“Red or white?” Charles asks, motioning to the wine bottles on the coffee table.“You pick. As long as it gets me tipsy to numb the pain, I’m good.” I grab a blanket and spread it over both our laps. The plan is to drink wine, order junk food later, and just hang out. Charles leaves soon to go overseas to work on a movie, and who knows where I’ll be.“The red then.” He gives me a look and opens the bottle of Merlot, pouring us both a generous amount. “I thought you were feeling better?”“I was.” I take a sip of wine and lean back. “I’m trying to shake the feeling that things aren’t meant to be and I’m struggling.”“Just because something isn’t perfect doesn’t mean it’s not meant to be,” he counters.“I know.” I nod and take another drink of wine, this time setting my glass down so I’m not tempted t
Chapter Forty-fiveSamI grab my phone from my locker and check for missed calls or texts. Chloe called me while I was in surgery, and I immediately call her back. The service in the locker room is shitty, and the call drops before her phone even rings. Quickly changing, I stuff my phone in my pocket, grab my keys and wallet, and head out to get something to eat.I’m on-call and need to stay nearby, but don’t have to stay on the hospital campus. I could go home, though I’ve gotten stuck in traffic, made it into the lobby of my apartment building and then got called back. Sitting through hours of surgery with nothing but granola bars in my stomach isn’t fun, so I pull out my phone to order food as I walk to the car.It rings only seconds after I step into the parking garage. It’s Stacey.“Hello?” I answer.“Hey,” she replies. “Are you busy?”“Not at the moment. I’m on-call and was going to get something to eat.”“Oh, good. I was just saying how hungry I was and I’m near your hospital.
Chapter Forty-fourChloeI drop my bags in the kitchen and walk through my large, empty house, going upstairs to my bedroom. I’m always a little freaked out to come home to an empty house after I’ve been away from a while. I have a top-of-the-line security system, so logically, I know no one could be in the house without setting off the alarm. I can go through the activity log from the last few days too and make sure no doors or windows have been opened, giving myself peace of mind.Though right now, I could use the distraction. I had a lot of time to think on the plane, and I came to the conclusion that while this sucks, I’m being dramatic. Single parents date with no issues. But starting a long-distance relationship while taking care of a newborn is a lot, and I can’t expect Sam, who already works long hours at a highly stressful job, to be able to fly to California for a quick weekend to romp around the set of a TV show with me.And there’s no way he can come visit me in Europe.I
Chapter Forty-threeSam“What?” Chloe asks, and the smile on her face fades away.“My ex says she’s pregnant.” I swallow the vomit rising in my throat. Time slows, and I watch Chloe, heart racing as I wait for her to reply.She pulls her hands from mine. “That is…that is definitely not what I thought you were going to—what?” She shakes her head.“Stacey…my, uh, ex, told me she’s pregnant and I’m the father.” Chloe, clearly stunned, steps back a few paces, dangerously close to the shallow shoreline. She brings a hand to her face and rubs her temples. Seconds tick by, and they feel like years. Say something, Chloe. Please. Anything.Finally, she opens her mouth only to close it again. “Your ex-girlfriend?”“Yeah,” I say, and a weight comes off my shoulders, though judging by the look on Chloe’s face, a heavy weight just landed on hers. “I know it’s a shock. It was for me too.”Chloe closes her eyes, rubbing her forehead. “What?” she repeats. “I…I thought…I thought you were…you’re
Chapter Forty-twoChloe “I have good and bad news.” I set my phone on the patio table and sit back down, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Yeah?” Sam settles back into his chair, looking a little uneasy. He keeps flicking his gaze to Mason, who’s giving him a weird, unreadable look back. They’re having some sort of unspoken conversation, something only the two of them can understand. I used to wish I had a sibling solely based on how close all the Harris kids were. They fought like cats and dogs at times, but at the end of the day, they were a family and loved each other. I’ve always considered myself lucky to be part of it, even though I wanted to be part of it in a different way—the way I am now. “My agent was able to negotiate a much better contract with the network. She thinks I’ll like this one a lot more.” “And the bad news?” Mason asks. “The head honchos at the network want to meet with me Tuesday morning, so I’ll have to get