Owen Dawson is one of Eastwood’s most eligible bachelors. He could have any woman he wants, but when it comes to settling down, he only has eyes for Charlie Williams, and he blew his chance with her years ago. While Owen is busy trying to convince everyone—and himself—that the playboy life is for him, Charlie is trying to put her life back together.After discovering her fiancé was cheating on her, Charlie packs her bags, leaves her fancy New York job, and goes back to the one place she never thought she’d return to: home. Determined to start over and stay far, far away from men, the last thing Charlie needs in her life is her first love, Owen…and the old feelings that come rushing back the moment she lays eyes on him.While Charlie swears to avoid romance of any kind, Owen is willing to do whatever it takes to prove he’s a changed man and win Charlie back…even if it means fighting dirty.
View MoreOwenThe next year…“What about this one?” I point to a pink-and-purple sheet set. Charlie looks at it and then shakes her head.“It’s too girly.”“We’re buying it for a girl.”“I know,” she agrees. “But I don’t want to set her up with gender stereotypes from infancy.”“Babies don’t even see in color when they’re born.”“Aww, you did read the books.”“Cover to cover.” I motion to another sheet set that’s white with colorful birds on it. “This one?”“Ohhh, that is cute!”“It’s not too girly?” I give her a smirk and she playfully nudges my arm. “These birds look pretty girly.”“I like them.”“That’s the whole point of this,” I whisper-talk. “We get to pick out what we like.”Charlie rests her hand over her stomach. She’s just now starting to show, and we found out we’re having a girl only this morning, continuing with what Quinn insists is karma for being raised in a house full of older brothers. Though she’s expecting her third and they’re not finding out what they’re having. My money
CharlieI pace back and forth on the front porch, swatting away bugs. Owen ran to Walmart to get a pregnancy test. I don’t feel pregnant. Not at all. I have zero symptoms, and while many women can go through the whole nine months without “feeling pregnant,” I know I wouldn’t get that lucky.Still, we want to be sure.I chugged a big glass of water when he left, and now I really have to pee. Headlights illuminate the street and I hold my breath, hoping that truck belongs to Owen. It doesn’t, and it goes right past our house. Getting close to needing to do the potty dance, I decide I’m going to give Owen five more minutes before going to the bathroom. Luckily, he pulls into the driveway only a minute later.He stands outside the bathroom door, waiting for me. The test said to wait a few minutes until you check, but I look at that baby right away. The control line pops up first. I watch, waiting for the second line. I don’t see one, so I set the test down and pull my pants back up. After
OwenThe front door opens, and I spring up, half expecting it to be Carly telling me to fuck off. But it’s Charlie. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying, and it kills me to see her like this.“Can we talk?” she asks, voice thin.“Of course.”She motions to the porch swing and we both take a seat.“What do you want to talk about?” My heart is beating so fast I fear it might beat right out of my chest. I’d pick it up, dust it off, and offer it to Charlie. It’s hers to keep. It’s always been hers.“First things first,” she starts. “Do you still feel like you know what’s best for me?”“No. Though if I were to give you advice right now, it would be to come home with me tonight.”Her lips curve into a half-smile. “Okay. Did it hurt when you broke up with me?”“Yes. And I hurt every day since then. I’ve had a void in my heart, Charlie, and nothing could fill it. Nothing but you.”She nods and looks down at the boards on the porch. “Do you want to get married and have kids?”“Yes. I do. P
CharlieA slight breeze rustles my hair, and I look out at the street. My heart is sitting at the bottom of my chest, and all the cracks are starting to separate. It won’t be long until it shatters into a million pieces again, and this time, there’ll be no putting it back together.My ex-fiancé is sitting on the porch next to me, waiting for his ride to come pick him up. He cheated on me. Embarrassed me. But it’s not him who’s hurting me.It’s Owen, and I don’t understand how I could have been so wrong. Again. Things were so perfect between us. And then he didn’t even have the decency to call me. I need to get Tulip from his place, and it’s going to be so fucking awkward.“I can put in a good word for you at another firm,” Todd says. “It’s the least I can do after…after…”“After fucking your assistant while you were in a relationship with me?”“Yeah. That. I’m sorry. Really, I am.”I hold up my hand, stopping him right there. “What do you want me to say? That it’s okay and I forgive y
Owen“Fuck.” I rub my wrists where the cuffs had been.“Sorry,” Weston says, shaking his head.“It’s not your fault.”He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. “You’re free to go now.”“Took long enough. That little shit got out of here hours ago, didn’t he?”Wes opens the holding room door for me. “His lawyer screams scumbag but had good connections.”“What good is the legal system when rich assholes can buy their way out of situations like this. He hit me first. Well, tried to hit me.” I smirk. “That cocksucker can’t throw a punch to save his life.”After Todd tried to hit me, and I easily blocked it, he stepped back and fell right onto Marty Pickens, one of our resident drunks. Along with being a drunk, Marty is paranoid and thinks the world is out to get him. We serve him at Getaway because he’s safer in the bar than out on the streets, and we’re able to give him food and a cool place to wait out the sun in the summer.But the second Todd touched Marty, he freaked out
Charlie“Hey,” I say to Owen’s voicemail. “I know you’re still working, so I’ll go ahead and meet you at the restaurant so we don’t miss our reservation. If you’re going to be late because of work, no big deal. Just let me know and I’ll order an extra glass of wine and bring a book to keep myself entertained.” I walk out of the office and head toward my car. “And I feel like saying I wanted to talk this morning was more dramatic than it needed to be. I do want to talk, but not in a bad way. It’s in an ‘I want to be with you and still want what I wanted before’ way. Marriage and children—not right away,” I add quickly. “But they have to be on the horizon, and this time…this time I don’t think it’ll be an issue. I’m looking forward to seeing—and doing you—later.”It’s an awkward as fuck voicemail, but whatever. It’s Owen. He never makes me feel awkward. Putting my phone in my purse, I pause at a crosswalk.“Charlotte!”I look up, not sure if someone is talking to me or someone else. Eve
OwenThe day has never gone slower. And the night? The night is dragging by so slowly I’m starting to wonder if I died in a freak accident on the way to work and went right to Hell. Charlie isn’t here, so there’s no way this is Heaven.A group of guys are out celebrating a twenty-first birthday. They’ve spent a ton on beer and shots, and we’ve been watching them closely to know when to cut them off. It’s late and the crowd is starting to dwindle, but they’re still going strong.This happens every now and then, and usually it doesn’t bother me. If we’re making money, I’ll stay open for another half hour or so. But tonight, tonight I want to go home, strip off my clothes, and feel Charlie’s body against mine.Everything feels right in the world. Charlie is back, and this time she’s staying. I want to tell her I love her, but won’t. It’s too soon. She wants something serious this time around, and I do too. But freaking her out isn’t the way to go.I turn on the lights, giving the birthda
Charlie“I feel like such a lush,” I laugh, settling into Owen’s arms. We moved into his bed and he just brought me a glass of wine. “Sex, wine, and staying up past my bedtime.”He brushes my hair back. “I’m turning you into a rebel.”I take a sip of wine and set the glass on the nightstand. “You really are.”“I should be punished.”“Oh, you definitely should be.” I move on top of him, and tingles run down my spine. We’re both still naked, and I’m still floating high on adrenaline and sex. I don’t know why I resisted, why I waited until now to finally relent and do what I wanted to do since the moment I saw Owen again.And admit that I’m still very much in love with him.Owen’s hands land on my hips and his cock starts to get hard again. I lean over, breasts in his face, and rub myself against him, getting off before I reach down and guide him into me. My breath comes out in huffs as I ride him hard and fast. Owen presses me down onto him, then brings one hand down and gently rubs my
CharlieOwen isn’t in the kitchen anymore when I come back down the stairs. The house is dark, with the exception of a soft glow coming from the screened-in porch. A single candle is lit and sitting on the table out there, and Owen’s back is to me as he looks at the fountain in the pond behind his house. There’s a light in it, making the simple fountain look much fancier at night than it actually is.Silently, I slip into the room. The candle is one of those meant to repel mosquitos, and the smell reminds me of summer nights spent on the front porch, both with Owen and my other friends. Life was simpler then, and while I can’t get rid of my adult responsibilities, things don’t have to be complicated.Owen turns right when I get up behind him, and firelight flickers in his eyes. He takes me in his arms, and my heart skips a beat. I hook my arms around his neck and step in close. Being in his embrace feels so right.It’s like I never left.He tips his head down, lips brushing against mi
CharlieMaybe there is a rational explanation for all of this.I twist my ring around my finger and pull it off my knuckle. Tears blur my eyes as I stare out at the water. Happy people walk the path behind me, and the air is full of typical New York City sounds.Cars honking.People laughing.People arguing.Music playing.Hearts breaking.I squeeze my eyes shut and a fat tear rolls down my cheek. Of course today of all days, I chose not to wear waterproof mascara. I look up, blinking back the tears. The only thing worse than crying in public is going back to work and having people ask me about it.Though there’s a good chance I can’t go back. That I won’t be able to bring myself to walk through that set of double doors, across the busy lobby, and press the elevator button to take me up to the office.Because he’s there.And I know there’s not a rational explanation for all of this.Part of me wishes I hadn’t seen what I did. I wouldn’t be standing here in the middle of Central Park d
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