When Scarlet Cooper takes a new job as a nanny, she assumes she’s going to work for the rich couple who hired her. But instead of pulling up to their million-dollar estate, she finds herself on the front porch of a humble farmhouse, looking into the eyes of dark and brooding single dad, Weston Dawson. It’s bad enough that Weston doesn’t have a fortune to charm out of him, but he’s also a cop. After marrying his high school sweetheart only to have her up and leave weeks after their baby was born, Weston has sworn off women for life. All that matters now is taking care of his son, Jackson. If anyone can break down the tough exterior of the former soldier, it’s Scarlet. But just when she’s close to getting exactly what she wants, she’s faced with a whole new challenge, which just might be the biggest con she’s ever pulled: pretending she doesn’t love him.
View MoreScarletSeven months later…“Thank you so much,” Quinn says, pushing her messy hair out of her face and taking Emma from my arms. “With Archer’s parents up in Michigan visiting Bobby and my own consumed with construction on the hospital, I’m dying.”“It’s no big deal.” I look down at Jackson. “We had fun. Emma was perfect.”Quinn raises an eyebrow in disbelief. Now that she’s over a year and is walking, Emma is a handful. And poor Quinn has been puking nonstop pretty much since the day she conceived her second child. She said she went through the same thing with Emma, making me question her sanity on getting pregnant again.“Is Archer going to be home soon?”“Yeah, thankfully.” We move into Quinn’s house, which is far from neat and tidy like it usually is. I hope when I’m finally pregnant I don’t get hit with morning sickness like this.Right after Wes proposed we started trying in a sense. I knew it would take a miracle to knock me up, but I was hopeful. We had a small but beautiful
WestonI put my arm around Scarlet, smiling as we watch Jackson tear into his Christmas presents. The three of us are wearing matching pajamas, which was Scarlet’s idea. Not mine. She said she bought them as a joke, but was rather insistent on all of us wearing them and taking a picture together last night on Christmas Eve.No sooner than Scarlet gets comfortable against me, she jumps up.“Salsa, get out of the tree.” She grabs the black kitten and brings him to the couch with her. He stays for half a second and jumps down, pouncing on the pile of discarded wrapping paper.Midnight, the mother cat to all the kittens, curiously walks over, batting a plastic bow across the living room. We were only going to take the kitten, but the mama cat really likes me for some reason. She’s a bit annoying, really, and rubs her head all over me purring almost every night when I go to sleep.Scarlet laughs, watching the cats have almost as much fun as Jackson with the presents. I take her in my arms
Scarlet“I think Salsa is a good name.” I give Jackson an encouraging nod.“It is cute,” Quinn agrees.“Do you think Daddy will let Salsa come home with us?” Jackson picks up the kitten and kisses her head. Wes got a little nervous around the time he was supposed to go into work. Instead of having Jackson come back here, I went over to Quinn’s. Jackson and I are staying the night here, and Wes is coming by in the morning.Even though Daisy was arrested and released with potential charges, we have no idea if she knows I’m back. And once she finds out her plans to sabotage the race, drive me out of town, and get Wes back didn’t work, she’ll be pissed. She might do something crazy.Though if she’s smart, she’ll be on her perfect behavior so she can try to convince a judge that she’s worthy of any sort of visitation rights with Jackson, which seem unlikely considering she basically tried to kidnap him.Still, I’m worried. Worried she’ll hurt Jackson and worried she’ll ruin Weston’s career
Weston“Hey, buddy!” I step past the dogs, holding the bag of takeout a little higher to keep Rufus from sniffing at it.“Daddy!” Jackson comes running. “We have to be quiet,” he says loudly. “Emma just fell asleep.”“Okay,” I whisper back, shuffling into the kitchen. Archer got called in for surgery, so Quinn and the kids came over to our parents, just to be safe.“Hey, Jackson.” Scarlet takes her coat off, smiling down at him.“Are you still sick?” he asks her, taking her hand. Both Scarlet and I pause for a moment until I remember telling Jackson Scarlet wasn’t feeling well and that’s why she wasn’t home.“She’s better now,” I tell him. “Are you hungry?”Mom is sitting at the island counter, which is covered in blueprints. “You didn’t have to bring fast food.” She raises her eyebrows. “I could have cooked.”“I thought Jackson would like a Happy Meal,” I say, and Jackson gets excited. “I got one for Quinn too.”Mom laughs. “She’ll like that I’m sure.”I hand the bag of food to Scar
WestonI reach over and take Scarlet’s hand. We’re headed back to Eastwood, and though I should probably be a dozen other things, I’m happy. Scarlet is coming home with me.“Why did you start conning people?” I ask, giving her hand a squeeze.“I realized I could,” she confesses. “It wasn’t like a dream I had when I was a little girl to grow up and be a con artist.”“What did you want to be when you grew up?”She shakes her head. “I don’t know. For a while there, I wanted to work at a zoo, but then things changed and I realized I didn’t have options. Especially after I dropped out of high school to take care of Heather and Jason.”“You did go back, right?”“Right. My dad showed up again and was able to look after them. Luckily, because our mom died shortly after.” She looks out the window, and it hits me how different our childhoods were. “I’ve always worked. I had to. Hell, someone had to, and it sure wasn’t Mom. I busted my ass for my family, and when I realized I could get more mone
ScarletI sit up, eyes waking up before my mind. I’m uncomfortable with stiff legs and an aching back, and for a split second, I think I fell asleep sitting up on the couch. Then I blink and realize my eyes are still sore and swollen from crying.Yes, crying.The room is dark, and I sit up, stretching my arms over my head. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the stiff armchair next to my father’s bed at the nursing home. After leaving Weston’s house, I walked into town, took Eastwood’s only taxi to Newport, and was able to get an Uber to drive me up to Chicago.I didn’t know where else to go other than the nursing home. Dad was having a bad day and just sat in his chair not really paying attention to anything. So, for the first time in my entire life, I spilled my guts. Said everything I ever wanted to say. Confessed the bad things I’ve done as well as admit just how deep my love for Weston goes.And Dad just sat there, staring blankly in my general direction. A little empathy would have
WestonI can’t move. Not yet, not while my mind is going a million miles an hour. Scarlet wouldn’t steal them. She’s not a bad person. She’s not a con artist or a thief. She’s Scarlet, a quirky girl from Chicago who likes paranormal romance, drinking tea, and looking at the stars.She’s the woman I love.But the boxes…I shake my head and move through the small foyer, going to the other side of the house. The boxes came from the basement, and maybe she put them back. I run down the stairs, getting hit with cool, musty air, and pull the string light at the bottom of the stairs. The basement is cold and damp most of the time, typical of older houses in this area. We use it for storage, and the washer and dryer are down here too. I go around the stairs to the storage section and see the boxes neatly put away. I pull one out and open it. Everything is inside.And now I’m feeling bad for even doubting her. I put my head in my hands and let out a breath. What the hell am I doing?“Daddy?” Ja
Weston“What about this one?” I ask Jackson, picking up a pink teapot with little purple flowers painted along the base.Jackson shakes his head. “Scarlet isn’t really a girly girl, Dad.”“Good point. It’s too pink for her. Too bad I didn’t think of this around Halloween.” I push the cart forward, browsing the shelves of a home decor store. We needed to go grocery shopping, and Scarlet said she wasn’t feeling well. Telling her to stay home and rest, Jackson and I set out.Something is off with her, and I’m sure it has to do with Daisy showing back up. I don’t want Scarlet to think that old feelings came back the moment I saw my wife. It did the opposite, and if there was any good that came out of this, it’s knowing that I can look at Daisy and feel absolutely nothing.Scarlet is the only one I want.“That one!” Jackson leans out of the cart and narrowly avoids knocking a glass candle holder off the shelf. “It has a skull on it.”Smiling, I carefully move things out of the way and find
Scarlet“What’s all this?” I ask, looking at the papers and boxes cluttering the living room. We just got back to Weston’s house. In the daylight, things never seen as scary as they do in the dark. And the more I think about the universe wanting me to meet Weston, the better I feel about this whole situation.“Family heirlooms. Jackson, don’t touch them,” he adds quickly.“Why are they out?” I take off my coat and move to the couch, curiously picking up an old book.“You-know-who wore her mother’s wedding dress at our wedding.” He looks uncomfortable talking about it. “She wanted it back and I wasn’t sure what box it was in.”“Oh. This stuff is cool.”“You like Civil War history?” he asks, looking a little amused.“If I’m being honest, I don’t know much about it. But I love antiques. Wait, all this stuff is from the Civil War?”“Some of it is. Not all is that old. It’s been in the Dawson family for years and gets passed down to the oldest son. Jackson will get it someday.”“Can I see
ScarletFor as long as I can remember, there’s been an emptiness inside of me. The more I try to ignore it, the deeper it sets into my bones, seeping down, deep down, until it becomes part of me. It’s easy to blame the emptiness on my shitty upbringing. Having to give up my dreams of a future to take care of my brother and sister. Growing up with an addict for a mother and being the one who found her cold, stiff body after an overdose.But I felt it before then, and sometimes I wonder if the emptiness isn’t empty at all. Maybe it’s darkness, and it’s always been a part of me. And when you have darkness inside of you, you have two choices: hate yourself for it or embrace it.I chose the latter.The bathroom door closes with a heavy thud, and I step up to the mirror, pulling out cherry red lipstick from my purse. I carefully apply it, fluff my hair, and stare at my reflection, avoiding the tiny bit of judgment my moral compass is giving me. That thing’s been broken for years anyway.I c
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