Chapter Eight

Weston

“Daddy!”

Jackson comes running, throwing his arms around me. Coming home to my son is the best part of my day. I never realize how much I miss this kid until his skinny little arms are wrapped around my neck. Scooping him up with one hand, I stand, pretending to drop him.

Jackson lets out a dramatic yell and then laughs hysterically. I do it again and get the same reaction.

“We made dinner!” he tells me excitedly, taking my hand as soon as his feet hit the floor. “Come eat!”

“Give me one minute, and I’ll join you.”

“It’s just nuggets and mac and cheese,” Scarlet says almost apologetically. She’s still wearing the denim shorts she had on earlier but has added a button-up flannel shirt over her tank top. Her blonde hair is in a messy braid, with loose strands hanging around her face. Even a blind man would notice how gorgeous she is.

“Some of our favorites,” I say and take off my shoes. I’m still in uniform with my gun strapped to my utility belt around my waist. I go upstairs to lock it up and change into gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt.

Scarlet is bringing plates to the table and does a double take when she sees me. I can’t get a good read on her, and I don’t get why everyday things seem surprising to her. Maybe it’s a sign this isn’t going to work out and I should let her go after the weekend is over, saying we’re just not a good match.

Though that would be one hell of a lie. There are plenty of things I’d like to do with Scarlet where I think we’d be a match made in heaven.

“How was your day, buddy?” I ask Jackson, tearing my eyes away from Scarlet as she sets the final plate down on the table. Her shorts are tight in all the right places, and it’s a battle of willpower not to steal another glance at her fine ass.

“It was so fun!” He puts his chicken nugget back down on his plate and bounces with excitement. “First, we played dinosaurs. Then Scarlet chased me around like a zombie!”

“Sounds like you had a pretty fun day.” I smile, heart warming at the sight of his happy face.

“It was more fun than when I spend the day with Grammy, but don’t tell her that.” Jackson hunches his shoulders in as he speaks, making both Scarlet and me laugh.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Scarlet promises.

Jackson takes one small bite of his food before starting up again, going through every single detail of the day. It sounds like he really did have fun, and it’s nice knowing he was up and active and not stuck in front of a screen all day. Not that Mom gives him her phone with YouTube videos all the time or anything, but sometimes she has work to do and that’s the only way to get shit done.

“Are we going to Grammy and Papa’s this weekend?” Jackson asks.

“Yep,” I reply and then flick my eyes to Scarlet. “We go to my parents’ house for dinner almost every Sunday.”

“That’s nice.” She pushes her mac and cheese around on her plate before taking a bite.

“Can Scarlet come too?” Jackson asks, eyes full of hope.

“Uh,” I start, not knowing what to say. Scarlet lives with us—for now—but she’s not part of the family. She has no obligation to do anything other than take care of Jackson, and Sunday is technically her day off. “If she wants to, she’s welcome to come.”

“Yay! Did you hear what my daddy said? You can come!”

“If she wants to,” I stress.

“Please!” Jackson begs her. “Please oh please say yes!”

Scarlet laughs. “How can I say no to that face?”

Jackson gets so excited he jumps out of his chair and runs around the table to give Scarlet a hug.

“Eat,” I gently remind him. “We have to go over letters and then get a bath in.”

“We already did letters,” he says, giving me a know-it-all look.

“Excuse me?” I raise my eyebrows.

With a dramatic sigh that he learned from Dean no doubt, he points to Scarlet. “We already did letters, Dad.”

“He showed me his workbook and asked if we could do a page. He got lowercase ‘b’ and ‘d’ mixed up a few times, but other than that, he did a good job.”

I’m not sure how to feel about this. Can this woman teach Jackson as well as I can? It’s not like I’m an overqualified child educator, but he’s my son.

“Thanks,” I say.

“Can we go to the park then?” Jackson asks.

“Yeah, we’ll have time before bed now.”

“Yay!” Jackson drops his fork and starts clapping. I shift my gaze from him to Scarlet, taking in the slight smile pulling up her full lips. “Will you come too, Scarlet?” he asks.

“Of course!” She beams at him, and he jabbers away about his favorite things to do at the park the rest of dinner. I take Jackson upstairs to change into something a little warmer. The evening air takes on a chill once the sun goes down.

The park is two blocks away, and Jackson usually rides his bike while I walk behind. He still needs training wheels and struggles a bit when the sidewalk is uneven.

Scarlet changed into black leggings and a long-sleeve T-shirt and is walking in step next to me. I turn my head, unable to help but notice the way her breasts bounce with each step even though she’s wearing a bra.

“You don’t have to go to dinner with my family on Sunday,” I start. “Don’t feel pressured by Jackson. He’ll get over it.”

She gives me a pleasant smile. “I don’t mind, really. I have nothing else to do. But if you don’t want me there—”

“No, that’s not it,” I say quickly. Why do I care about offending her? I shouldn’t.

I don’t.

“They’re a bit overbearing,” I warn. “And there’s a lot of them.”

“Jackson was talking about an Uncle Archer.”

I nod. “That’s Quinn’s fiancé. She’s the youngest of my siblings and has a baby. Then there’s Logan and Owen—they’re identical twins—and then Dean and his wife, Kara.”

“Four siblings and two more by marriage?” She laughs. “I can hardly handle the two I have.”

“It’s a lot, but I like it,” I admit. “It’s always loud and crazy, but that’s the way it’s always been.”

“You must be close to Quinn.”

“We’re all pretty close.” We stop at the edge of the street, and after making sure Jackson remembers the concept of looking both ways, we cross and make it down half the block before either of us speak.

“So,” she starts, voice soft. She pushes a loose strand of hair from her face and turns to me, blue eyes sparkling in the fading sunlight. “Jackson mentioned his mother. He didn’t go into detail, but I don’t know how you want me handling the situation. He seemed a little upset.”

Well, shit. I didn’t think this fun piece of conversation would come up already. Out of the mouth of babes…

“We don’t talk about her.” I set my gaze forward, watching Jackson peddle his little heart out. Indiana is relatively flat all around, but there’s a slight incline on the way to the park that he sometimes needs help with.

“Oh, okay. I’ll just try to change the subject.”

I let out a sigh, knowing that sooner or later, this is going to all come out, and I’d rather have Scarlet hear it from me than anyone else.

“Jackson’s mother left a few weeks after he was born. She came back once, stayed a few days, and that’s the last time I’ve seen or heard anything from her. When Jackson asks, I tell him Daisy had other things to do.” I shrug. “It’s not the best response, but nothing is a good response in that situation.”

“I’m sorry,” Scarlet says, and I brush off her words. I don’t want pity. I get along just fine, and raising my son on my own for the last four years allowed us to bond in a way we couldn’t if Daisy was still in the picture.

“Slow down,” I call out to Jackson, who spotted one of his friends at the park. We have one more street to cross. Picking up the pace, I catch up to him before he zooms across the street. We wait for a pickup to go by, and then he rides as fast as he can to the playground, dumping his bike to the ground and pulling at his helmet strap as he runs to the swing set.

I wave to Mrs. Hills, the mother of Jackson’s friend, and motion to a park bench. Scarlet follows, eyes wide as she takes it all in.

“What part of Chicago are you from?” I ask.

“The South Side.” She gives me a lopsided smile. “Yes, the ghetto.”

Nodding, I decide that’s enough information to share for one night. She’s my employee, after all. The wind picks up, blowing in the scent of rain. Scarlet shivers and pulls her arms in around herself. The faint outline of her nipples becomes visible through her shirt, and I take off my jacket to give to her.

“Thanks.” She slips her arms inside the sleeves, thinking I’m being chivalrous. Really, I’m helping out my dick.

“Dad! Scarlet!” Jackson yells from the top of a slide. “Come watch me go down the slide. It’s super fast!”

We both get up, going across the playground to watch Jackson go down a twisty slide. He grabs Scarlet’s hand and leads her up the playground steps. My phone buzzes in my pocket, no doubt more texts from my brothers.

“Good evening, Officer Dawson,” Mrs. Hills croons, sauntering over. She got divorced last year and makes sure everyone knows just how single she is every time she talks.

“Hello, Mrs. Hills.”

“Please, call me Terry. Our boys go to school together. We’re practically family at this point.”

I force a smile, realizing that running for sheriff means having to put up with bullshit small talk and pleasantries. Maybe I don’t want to do it after all.

“I can’t help but notice your companion,” she goes on. “Finally free?” She wiggles her eyebrows hopefully.

“She’s Jackson’s nanny,” I reply, sidestepping her question. Sometimes I hate this small town as much as I love it. Everyone knows Daisy ran out on us and I haven’t petitioned for a divorce yet.

“Well, she’s very pretty.”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you coming to the kids’ fall party at school next week?”

Motherfucker. It’s next week? “I’m not sure. We’ll see how much crime happens that morning.”

Terry laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world, and Scarlet snaps her head around. Her eyes flit from me to Terry, taking a second to watch us before turning back to Jackson.

“Well, I’m in charge of snacks, and if you want, I can bring you something extra. Maybe something a little sweet?” She angles her body toward mine, inhaling so her breasts rise up in front of me. “Or do you prefer salty?”

Doing everything I can not to physically recoil from her, my phone ringing at that exact moment is welcome.

“It’s my sister. Gotta take this,” I say.

“Quinn? Tell her I said hello!” Quite a few people in this town were quick to judge Quinn when they found out she was pregnant and not married. Then they remembered she was rich and suddenly are her best friend again.

“Hey, sis,” I say into the phone.

“Hey. So…how’d it go today?”

“The day isn’t over yet.”

“Uh-oh. Is that a bad thing?”

I watch Scarlet run in slow motion as Jackson and his friend chase her around, pretending to be the zombies this time. “No. Jackson seems to really like her.”

“Good! She was really nice when we met at the coffee shop.”

I don’t feel like getting into it with my sister tonight, but we’ve all tried to explain to her that just because someone seems nice doesn’t mean they should be trusted. But that’s just Quinn for you, always finding the good in everyone.

“We’ll see how it goes. I’m still not sold on this, you know.”

“Make up your damn mind. If you want to pull out of the race, just do it already. If not, we need to amp up your campaigning.”

“I thought you were certain I’d win,” I tease.

“I am. But people need to know you’re running against that sexist old Sheriff Turner so they can vote for you.”

Chuckling, I agree. “Okay. Give me to the end of the week. If this works out, we’ll go all the way with this.”

“Yay! Oh, shit. Emma just puked all over Archer and he was on his way out the door to do an emergency appendectomy.” 

“I don’t miss those days. See ya later, sis.”

“Love you. Give Jackson a kiss for me!”

“Will do.”