Chapter Twenty-four

Charlie

I braid my hair as I walk down the stairs. I couldn’t fall back asleep after going to bed last night and finally drifted off about an hour before my alarm went off. I hit snooze twice and then just shut off my alarm, waking fifteen minutes later in a panic. Luckily, I washed my hair last night. It’s long and thick and takes forever to dry.

I secure a hair tie around the end of my braid and throw my blonde locks back over my shoulder. The house is quiet, and Owen was true to his word last night: he did leave his bedroom door open. I looked in when I walked down the hall, seeing him in all his glory sprawled out on his stomach on his mattress.

He sleeps naked, like he always has, and the sheets were barely covering up his ass. The sight of his naked body sent a jolt through me, awakening every single nerve in me. Physically, there’s no denying that Owen is a gorgeous man. He’s tall and fit, with deep brown eyes, full lips, and a strong jaw that’s always covered in the perfect amount of stubble.

I know he works out, and I’ve seen the protein shakes and supplements in the pantry. Still, it’s not bloody fair for someone to be in that good of shape when they bring home pizza and French fries several times a week. I run because I like it but also because my family has a history of heart disease. Also, I like to drink wine and eat sweets. Instead of cutting things I enjoy out of my diet, I’d rather add in working out to balance the scale.

The smell of coffee fills the kitchen. Owen isn’t down here making me breakfast this morning, and he rarely gets up this early. He told me himself. Did he change the timer on the coffee pot so it would be ready for me? There’s even a mug out on the counter, ready to go.

It’s sweet and thoughtful and makes me smile. I pour myself a cup and go back onto the screened-in porch to drink it. Tulip limps out after me, looking pitiful. Though her spirits really have come back up. I feed her and give her her medicine, and then fill up my mug once more to take with me to work.

Going into the office at the front of the house, I open the top drawer to look for a paper and pen to write Owen a little thank you for the coffee note. There’s not much in the top drawer other than an unopened package of gel pens, a box of paperclips, and a stapler.

Not wanting to open the new package of pens, I move to the second drawer. This one isn’t nearly as organized as the last, and I pick up a large envelope to see if there are any pens underneath it.

I assume it’s sealed—my mistake. Photographs fall out, scattering across the hardwood floor.

“Oh shit,” I mumble and crouch down to pick them up. My throat catches when I turn the first one over, looking down at Owen and my smiling faces. We can’t be any older than sixteen in this photo. We’re at the drive-in theater, and Logan and some girl are in the background behind us.

I shouldn’t pry. I shouldn’t look to see what other photos are in the envelope…but I do have to pick up the rest that spilled out.

The next is also of us, out on the town with friends. I stick it back into the envelope, trying hard not to let my heart override my head. I’ve seen firsthand what that can do to people, and more specifically, to me.

The third photo I pick up is just of me. I remember Owen taking this one, back when the camera on his phone was impressive with its colored yet grainy photos. There’s only one more photo that fell out, and I bite my lip as I pick it up and flip it over. It’s another one of us, and I don’t know how to process this.

Owen has a secret stash of photos of us from our childhood. Is it sweet? Creepy? A sign that he might be a hoarder or can’t let go of the past?

Or that, like me, he hasn’t been able to move on either?

There are a bunch of loose pens in that drawer. I grab one, put the photos away, and go back into the kitchen to write a note on a napkin.

Owen-

Thanks for the coffee. See you tonight.

-Charlie

I don’t know if he’s working tonight or if he’ll be here when I get done at the firm. But I do know I’m going to need some new clothes…and Libby would really love to have space to keep her dolls away from Jack, who grabs them by the hair and pulls off their shoes. Again, I know our issue of all being crammed into one house isn’t really an issue at all when I think about how bad others have it. But if I wasn’t there taking up another room, it would give my sister and her family a bit more breathing room.

Leaving the note in front of the coffee pot, I look around the tidy kitchen and smile. Maybe staying here for a few more weeks won’t be that bad. As long as I don’t go doing something stupid.

Like Owen.

*

“Charlie!”

I turn and see a brunette woman waving at me from behind the counter of the bakery. It’s Danielle, Logan’s wife. I stopped in during my lunch break, and this place is packed.

“Hi,” I say, waving back. I’m behind two people in line, and Danielle steps out, motioning for me to come over by her. “How are you feeling? I mean, how are you doing?”

“It’s okay. I know Logan told you. And very good.” She smiles, making me think she got good news from the doctor. I don’t know her well enough to ask about a private matter. “We invited everyone over for dinner tonight to tell them the news. I’m not sure if Logan’s talked to Owen or not yet, but I’d love if you came as well. No pressure or anything if you don’t want to,” she adds quickly.

“Thanks, and yes, I’d love to come. I don’t know if Owen’s working or not tonight, though. I, uh, didn’t ask.”

“He’s opening this morning and then Logan was able to get someone else to take the rest of his shift. I help manage the schedules still,” she explains. “That’s how I met Logan, actually. I used to bartend.”

“Oh, nice. I didn’t know that.”

“So you and Owen met back in high school?”

“We met way before then, actually, but we, uh, started dating then.” My throat starts to feel a little tight. What the hell is wrong with me. I’m level-headed, able to keep my cool even when I’m freaking the fuck out on the inside. Whatever anxiety or fear or jitters I’m feeling never surface. Now I’m fumbling over words and my nerves are physically manifesting.

And I have no idea why I’m getting nervous.

Maybe more like unnerved, and there’s only one person who can do that to me.

“What do you want?” Danielle asks, and for a brief moment, I think she’s asking what I want with Owen. Then I realize she’s looking at the display cases of sweets.

“Cupcakes,” I say, swallowing down the lump in my throat. I need to get it together. I’m going back to work to meet with a new client, and this time, he’s all mine. Since Mr. Fenton is retiring in a few months, there was no point in starting work with someone new.

“Any particular flavor? We have like a dozen options. I’m all about the red velvet ones with sprinkles right now.”

“Yeah, those sound good. Do you make them?”

“No,” she says with a laugh. “I’m no baker. Which, I know, sounds weird since I own a bakery. It was my grandmother’s dream to run her own bakery, and when this place went up for sale last year, we decided to buy it mostly to keep it running, but as a business venture. I have this whole five-year plan to start new businesses in the area.”

“That’s awesome.”

She shrugs. “Thanks. Gotta put that Yale degree to use somehow, right?”

“You went to Yale?” My eyebrows go up. “That’s impressive!”

“It’s not as impressive as it sounds, even though I suppose it is.” Shaking her head, she goes around the counter and puts four cupcakes in a box for me.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, nothing at all. It’s on the house.”

“Really? No, I can’t.”

She presses her lips into a smile. “Well, you could pay for it with a favor.”

“Huh?”

“Sorry,” she says with a sigh. “I’m not good at this. I need Quinn. Or Scarlet. Yeah…Scarlet is the professional.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is Scarlet a professional of?”

“She’s out of the business now. We want you to go on a date with Owen.”

“You too?”

She tips her head. “Who else wants you to?”

I shift my weight, fingers pressing into the sides of the pink cupcake box. “And I appreciate how much you all care about Owen. I still care about him too, but in a different way. Going on a date…I just…I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Danielle’s expression softens. “I don’t really know what happened between you two. Logan’s only told me so much, and I don’t think even he knows the whole story. I do know that Owen is a great guy and we all want him to be happy. You seem to make him happy, but if it doesn’t make you happy too, then it’s not fair and I’m sorry for trying to push you two together, even though I suck at it.”

Her words hit me, and I can’t really deny that Owen makes me happy. “It’s hard trusting someone who hurt you,” I admit.

She gives me a sympathetic smile. “I know. I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the cupcakes, and I hope to see you tonight.”

“Thanks again.” I weave my way through the crowd, chewing on the inside of my cheek the whole time. Bright sunlight streams down on me as I walk down the block and back to the firm. I do plan on eating one of these cupcakes as I fill out the paperwork necessary to officially hire me on at the firm now that I have one client of my own.

The rest of the afternoon goes by fast, and I swing by the house for more clothes before going back to Owen’s place. Libby has her dolls all set up in my room. That girl has more Barbies than anyone I know, and Mom dug mine and Carly’s old dolls out of the basement for her to play with as well. She has about a dozen of them tucked into the bed, and a few others are sleeping on the floor, covered with washcloths and hand towels as blankets.

Coming back here and kicking her out seems a little selfish. After all, I have a place to stay and the two nights I’ve spent at Owen’s haven’t been bad at all. I grab enough clothes to last me three days, toss the bag in my car, and drive to Owen’s.

He’s outside doing yard work again, and Lord have mercy, he’s shirtless and sweaty again. I park along the street, grab my bag, and get out.

“Hey,” I call with a wave. My heels click as I walk up the driveway, and Owen straightens up, turning away from the weeds in the landscaping he was pulling.

“Hey, Charlie.” He wipes sweat from his brow with his arm. “Have a good day at the office?”

“I did, actually. I have my first official Eastwood client now.”

“Fun. Is he a big crime lord you’re going to defend?”

“Hardly. And you know I can’t talk about things. Lawyer-client privilege and all.”

“Ohh, so this guy has a record a mile long then.”

I laugh. “I kind of wish, but no. Just someone who’s taking a stand against someone wrongfully suing them. Our case is strong and I’m sure we’ll settle out of court.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

“I do like going to court.”

“Logan called,” he starts. “Everything looks good with their baby and Danielle’s farther along than she thought, so they’re telling everyone tonight. Do you want to go over with me for dinner?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Is the whole crew going?”

“I don’t think Archer is going to make it. You know, I used to think it was bullshit how much doctors got paid until I saw how much Archer works.”

“And they’re in school forever.”

“You went to school for a long time too.”

“True,” I laugh. “Though not all lawyers make a lot of money. People seem to think so, but most earn a pretty average salary. And that’s not to mention the student loans most of us graduate with.” I hold up my hand to shield the sun from my eyes. “I got lucky getting hired at such a swanky firm right out of law school. I was able to pay off my loans.”

Owen picks up a clump of weeds from the decorative stones and starts to walk toward the house.

“What time is dinner?” I ask, falling in step with him.

“About an hour from now.” He motions to one of the houses under construction down the street. “Or whenever Dean’s done over there.”

“Good. I have time to change.”

“And I have time to shower and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

I go inside. Pulling my hair out of the tight braid it’s been in all day, I massage my head with my fingers for a minute. Wearing my hair like this makes my head hurt, but I was too tired this morning to do anything other than braid it.

I take care of Tulip, move her into the screened-in porch so she can watch the birds, and then go upstairs to change and do my hair. I quickly curl it, needing to smooth out the frizzy waves left from my messy braid, and then put on a yellow sundress.

Owen is in the kitchen, going through the fridge. He looks up when I walk in, and his eyes slowly run over me.

“You look stunning,” he tells me, and I quickly dismiss his compliment.

“It’s just an old dress.” That I’ve only worn in the store when I tried it on. “And my hair is a mess.” I couldn’t get it to look this effortless again if I tried.

“Well, you look good. Really good.” He closes the fridge.

“I got cupcakes today.” I go to the counter and open the box to show him. “I ate one at work, but I saved the rest for you.”

“Thanks.” His face lights up with a smile. “Want to share one?”

“I never turn down sweets.” He grabs a plate and two forks and goes onto the screened-in porch. “You seem to like it out here.”

“I do.” I flick on the overhead fan, feeling the heat of the day hit us as soon as we step out. “And Tulip does too.”

Owen smirks. “I have a really good crazy cat lady joke right now.”

“No pussy jokes anymore?”

He laughs. “I can always come up with one.”

“I’m sure you can come up with one.”

“I think you’re trying to make a sexual joke and failing.”

“I am,” I laugh and sink my fork into the cupcake, getting mostly frosting. “I’m going to have to run miles to burn off two cupcakes.”

“I’m sure there’ll be more tonight. Danielle will bring something from the bakery, and you know my mother. She’s always baking, and I think she knows why we’re all going over, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she spent the day making baby-shaped cookies or something.”

“Baby-shaped cookies would be a little terrifying.”

“And it would be weird to bite their heads off.”

“Just a little.” I look at Owen and smile.

“I overheard some new drama today.”

“Ohhh, do tell!”

“Last year, Danielle busted some guy for cheating on his pregnant wife. Now his ex-wife is dating his brother.”

“Sounds like the start to a juicy romance novel.”

“I was thinking more like a remake of the Jerry Springer Show.”

I laugh and take another bite of the cupcake. “True. I can only imagine how awkward family get-togethers would be.”

“Right?”

I take one more slice of the cupcake and push the plate to Owen. He finishes it, and we get up to head out to Logan and Danielle’s house, which is on the outskirts of town.

“That’s Quinn and Archer’s place,” Owen says as we drive past a huge white house.

“Holy shit.”

“Right? You should see the inside.”

“You did say she had a lot of cats, so I’d like to.”

Owen chuckles. “You’d get along well with her.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen her, it’s weird seeing her all grown up now. She seems to have really done well for herself. I know it’s been a while, but I’m still proud. She felt like my sister for a while there.”

Owen doesn’t say anything back, which isn’t like him. His jaw tenses and he focuses on the passing country road. Other than the radio playing, it’s silent between us the rest of the way to Logan and Danielle’s farmhouse.

Dexter, the German Shepherd, is playing fetch with Jackson when we pull up. He gets excited the second he sees Owen and bolts over, jumping up and trying to lick Owen’s face. Owen crouches down, hugging the dog, and my ovaries threaten to explode.

What is it about guys and dogs that’s so damn attractive?

“Hi, Charlie!” Jackson calls, picking up a slobbery tennis ball.

“Hey, Jackson.” I smile at the boy and then wave to Scarlet, Quinn, and Mrs. Dawson, who are on the wrap-around porch with the other children. Jackson throws the ball and Dexter takes off after it. Brushing fur off his shirt, Owen steps behind me. His hand lands on the small of my back, fingers pressing softly into my skin. I stiffen and he jerks his hand down.

“Sorry. Habit,” he mumbles and keeps his eyes locked on the house in front of us.

“I’m so glad you made it,” Mrs. Dawson comes down the steps and gives me a hug. “I didn’t realize just how much I’ve missed you until you came around again.”

“It is nice having another blonde at the table,” Scarlet jokes and looks down at her baby. “It’ll be a while until this one has much hair.”

“We blondes need to stick together,” I laugh. Owen says hi to his family and goes right into the house to find Logan.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Mrs. Dawson asks. “I brought sangria.”

“No, I’m fine for now, thank you. I’ll have some with dinner.”

“Can I smell your glass?” Quinn asks, making a face before laughing. “I miss drinking.”

“You’ll drink again soon enough,” Scarlet tells her. “I think it’s amazing you’re able to stick with breastfeeding. After two months, I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I only nursed my first two,” Mrs. Dawson says. “I attempted to with the twins but couldn’t keep up. And they turned out fine.”

“That’s debatable,” Quinn quips. “Though I did okay for myself. Don’t feel bad about it, Scar.”

Scarlet smiles and blinks rapidly as if she’s trying to keep from crying. This must be a sore subject for her, and seeing Quinn and Mrs. Dawson come to her defense and make her feel better reminds me even more how much I loved being part of this family.