Chapter Thirteen

Charlie

I changed my outfit three times. My first dress made me look way too much like a stuffy lawyer. The second showed an indecent amount of cleavage. And the third? It’s a simple red sundress that matches my lipstick.

Not that I care how I look for Owen or anything.

Smoothing my hair back that keeps blowing in my face from the wind, I lean back on the porch swing and look out at the street. It’s weird, living back home with my sister and parents. I’m a responsible adult, yet I almost felt compelled to tell everyone where I was going.

Mom knows I’m going out, but that’s it. She doesn’t need to know the small details, and it’s not like I have to ask permission. If they knew I was going to see the entire Dawson crew? It wouldn’t matter, because nothing is going to come from this. It’ll be nice to see everyone. They were a big part of my life for a long time, and it’ll be nice to catch up. Too bad I don’t have better news about myself. Though until a few weeks ago, things were going pretty damn well.

Feeling like a teenager again, I hop up when I see a black pickup truck slow to a stop in front of the house. Years ago, I’d run down the sidewalk and leap into Owen’s arms. My heart flutters at the thought, remembering in vivid detail just how amazing Owen used to make me feel.

Like I was on top of the world, because I was his whole world.

“Hey,” I say, opening the passenger side door before Owen has a chance to even take off his seatbelt.

“Hey, Charlie.” He runs his eyes over me, not even caring that I can see he’s obviously checking me out. “You look good.”

“Thanks.”

“What, no complimenting me back?”

I pull my seatbelt over my lap. “I don’t want to lie, now would I?”

Owen laughs. “I miss this.”

“What?”

“Your sass.”

I look out the window, biting the inside of my cheek. Owen does look good. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and his hair is messily styled in a way that looks way too sexy for anyone to be able to pull off. And now I’m remembering him all sweaty, body glistening in the sun as he pushed the lawnmower up and down his yard…

“What’s your mom making for dinner?” I ask and fiddle with a strand of my hair.

“Don’t know.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t have brought something? My own mother would scold me to know I showed up at a dinner party without anything.”

“It’s just dinner. Not a party.”

“You know what I mean.”

“There’s a good chance it’s going to be hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill, so don’t worry.” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to look at me. “And when I bring you home, should I go inside and get your stuff?”

“My stuff?”

“To take back to my place.”

Twisting my hair around my finger, I watch the landscape pass us by. “We’ll see.”

“I’ll convince you tonight.”

I turn to look at Owen, not sure if his confidence is annoying or sexy. Heat rushes through me, settling between my legs with a quiver. Narrowing my eyes. I sink my teeth down against my lower lip. I can handle whatever Owen throws at me. I think. I hope. I’m not interested in dating or even hooking up.

“You won’t convince me, but go ahead and give it your best shot.”

*

The century-old farmhouse looks exactly the same. It’s strange how the sight of it brings up a maelstrom of emotions.

Sunday dinners spent around the table.

Sneaking up the creaky old stairs and into Owen’s bedroom, which he shared with Logan for a while. When Weston moved out, Logan took his room, leaving Owen and me with way too much privacy.

Holiday time split between my own family and Owen’s.

There was so much promise. So much hope in a future together. I look at Owen and wonder what things would be like if we’d never broken up. Would he have eventually turned around? I didn’t demand a ring or a baby. All I wanted was a promise of a future together, to get serious about the next phase in our lives, and look for a place of our own to put down roots.

Owen didn’t want any of that, and at the time, it felt like a betrayal. Like I wasn’t enough for him. It haunted me for years, wondering where I’d gone so wrong. What I could have done differently to be enough for him. Looking back now, I can see that we were just too different of people.

The truck bumps along the gravel driveway, and Owen parks next to a Tesla.

“Whose car is that?” I ask.

“Archer’s.”

“Ahh, right. He’s a doctor.”

Owen takes off his seatbelt. “Quinn still makes more than him.”

I can’t help but smile and feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. One thing all the Dawson boys take seriously is looking after their baby sister. For a time, Quinn kind of felt like a sister to me too. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve seen her, and now she’s married with two kids.

Time goes by so fucking fast…until shit hits the fan and your own life is scattered to the wind all around you.

Smoothing out my hair once again, I get out of the truck and follow Owen around the house. We enter through the garage, and a brigade of dogs comes barking as soon as we step into the house.

“Easy,” Owen tells them, but his voice is lost under the scrambling of paws and excited barks. A large German Shepherd comes barreling over, nearly knocking Owen to the ground in his excitement.

“Dex!” Owen drops to his knees and lets the dog get up close and personal for a few seconds. “You’re getting fat,” he tells the dog, who’s now lying down for a belly rub. “This is Logan’s dog, Dexter.”

“He likes you.”

“Logan got him back when we were both at the house. He’s used to me.”

“Owen?” Mrs. Dawson calls. “Is that you?”

“No, Mom,” Owen calls back. “It’s a burglar, and I’ve secretly befriended all five dogs over the course of a year just so I can sneak in unnoticed.”

“Oh, well, good. Feel free to take any of the junk in the attic while you’re burglarizing the place.”

Owen gets back up, brushes dog fur off his lap, and goes through the rear entrance and into the kitchen. I follow behind, heart racing a little faster than I expected. Quinn and two other women, who have to be Scarlet and Danielle, are sitting at the island counter. Quinn is nursing the newborn I saw with Archer, and a gorgeous blonde woman I’m guessing to be Scarlet is holding baby Violet, who I recognize right away by the shock of blonde hair on her little head. Cascades of blonde waves fall around Scarlet’s face, and even though she’s sitting, I can tell she was one of those lucky women who lost all the baby weight right away without even trying.

A brunette is sitting next to her, and I’m guessing that’s Danielle, Logan’s wife. She’s pretty as well, and is talking and laughing about something with Quinn. Seeing the three of them there together makes me feel a little out of place, which isn’t something I was expecting to feel.

Because it means I want to fit in. Again.

Quinn looks up, about to say hi to Owen, and then sees me. All it takes is a split second of total shock on her face to let me know Owen didn’t tell anyone he was bringing me.

“Charlie?” Quinn’s eyes go wide.

“Hey,” I say with a small wave. “I take it you had no idea I was joining you for dinner.”

Quinn keeps staring at me like I’m a spirit who might disappear into the night if she takes her eyes off me. “No, he didn’t.” A second later, she rapidly blinks and turns to Scarlet.

Mrs. Dawson, having heard my voice, rushes through the kitchen. She too stops dead in her tracks, looking from me to Owen and back again. Then she takes me in her arms, wrapping me in a big hug.

“It’s been years!” she exclaims, releasing me. “I heard you were back in town, but I didn’t know if I’d see you.”

“Yeah, I’m home now. For a while at least.”

“Owen!” Mrs. Dawson steps to the side. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bringing someone? I have to add another place setting to the table.”

“Don’t go to any trouble,” I start, but Mrs. Dawson waves her hand in the air.

“It’s no trouble at all. It’s this one who’s in trouble.”

Owen zeroes his eyes in on me, giving me a punish me later type of smirk. “I wasn’t sure if she’d actually come,” he admits.

“Come in, come in,” Mrs. Dawson says, waving me into the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready. Do you want anything to drink? I just opened a bottle of red wine.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” I say though my head is screaming at me to avoid alcohol at all costs. Because being back here in this familiar house with the family I loved so much is pulling on my heartstrings.

“Danielle, Charlie. Charlie, Danielle,” Owen introduces. “And this is Scarlet, Wes’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you.” I sit in the bar stool Owen pulls out.

“So, how have you been?” Quinn starts, readjusting her baby at her breast. “I don’t even remember the last time I saw you.”

“It’s been a while. And I’ve, uh, been good. Well, until recently.”

“Yeah, I, uh, heard. I’m sorry.”

It takes a lot to unnerve me or make me feel inadequate. Being a female in a male-driven profession toughened me up fast, and I’ve always been more or less confident in who I am. The Dawsons aren’t judgmental people, and I can’t see Wes or Logan marrying anyone who’d sit here and make me feel bad.

“Thanks. Better I got out now, right?”

“What did happen between you and your ex?” Owen asks.

“Owen,” Quinn scolds. “That’s rude.”

“It’s fine.” I push my hair back. “He, uh, cheated on me with his assistant,” I blurt it all out fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. The truth will come out sooner or later, and things can get twisted when spread through the rumor mill.

“Ugh, I can’t stand cheaters.” Danielle shakes her head, speaking with enough emotion to make me think she’s dealt with it in the past too. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. Though really, I’m fine. I probably should have broken up with Todd months before, but you know how it is when you’re in a familiar routine.”

“The guy is an asshole,” Owen says. “Anyone willing to lose you is a fucking idiot anyway, but cheating? I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I bring my hands into my lap, feeling uncomfortable.

“His name is Todd?” Owen asks with a smirk.

“Yes.”

“Haven’t you seen any early 90s movies? The assholes are always named Todd.”

“That is true,” Quinn agrees. “Or Brad. Avoid the Todds and Brads from now on.”

“I plan to avoid everyone for a good while,” I say.

Mrs. Dawson brings me a glass of wine. “Are you back in Eastwood for good then?”

I take a sip of wine. “I’m not too sure. My dad has always wanted me to take over his firm, and one of the lawyers there is retiring soon, so it’s kind of good timing to move back permanently and start work.”

“Your dad is Joseph Williams?” Scarlet asks.

“Yeah, he is.”

“He’s a good man,” she tells me with a smile. “He helped us a lot with getting custody over Jackson.”

I smile back. “Not all lawyers are bad.”

The sliding doors leading from the breakfast nook to the patio open and Logan comes in.

“I thought that was you.” He gives me a hug. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at Getaway. Shit, it’s been a while. How have you been?”

“Uh, all right,” I say, not wanting to repeat everything. “It’s nice to be back. And congrats again on getting married.” I look at Danielle. “Both of you.”

“Let’s go say hi to everyone else,” Owen says and stands up. “Get it over with.” He holds out his hand for me to take. Swallowing hard, I take it and let him help me pull me to my feet. We go outside on the patio where Mr. Dawson is grilling. Dean, Archer, and Weston are playing with Jackson and Emma. I’m introduced to Kara, Dean’s wife, who’s sitting in the sun reading a book. She’s polite enough, but it seems a little weird that she’s out here instead of being inside with Quinn and the others.

With only ten minutes until dinner is ready, Owen slowly walks over to a shaded glider near the pool. I sit across from him, watching the kids run around the yard. Emma is trying so hard to keep up with Jackson and keeps falling in the grass. She pops right back up every time, laughing.

“Feels good to be back, doesn’t it?” Owen pushes the glider forward.

“It feels familiar.”

“But good?”

I shift my gaze from Owen to the growing corn in the field behind the yard. “I’m just trying to get back on my feet,” I remind him. “Just…don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to go down this path again,” I say softly. “My heart’s been through enough.”

“I’m not that guy anymore, Charlie.” His brow furrows. “I promise you, I’m not.”

I let out a breath and shake my head. It shouldn’t matter. I don’t want to get into a new relationship, let alone go back to an old one. But then something strange happens. My mouth opens, but the words don’t come from my head. They come from my heart.

“Prove it.”