Weston
I zip up my coat, feeling chilled despite the warm sun beating down on me. Maybe I shouldn’t have ignored the fact that I woke up with a sore throat. But the day is over, and I’m looking forward to going home and having dinner with Jackson and Scarlet.
I call Quinn on the way and check on Bobby. He’s at their house and has been sleeping it off for hours. I remember the first time Archer stayed with us while he and Dean roomed together in college because his brother got himself into trouble with drinking. They’ve been trying to help Bobby get clean for so long. It’s starting to get hard to think he ever will.
Scarlet and Jackson are outside when I get home, and she’s chasing him around like a zombie again. He fakes a fall, dramatically rolling through fallen leaves. Scarlet sees me first and stops dragging one foot with her arms out in front of her. She smiles, and I have to work hard at ignoring the rush that goes through me, making my cock jump.
Her hair is a mess and leaves are stuck to the back of her sweater. Knowing she was rolling around in the leaves with my son makes her all the more attractive, and after the dream I had about her last night, I’m going to have a hard time looking her in the eye.
“Hey,” she calls, giving me a wave. Jackson gets up, smiling, and starts running again for Scarlet to chase him. “Your dad’s home,” she tells him, but he doesn’t stop. “Jackson,” she calls again, and this time he stops.
“Hi, Dad!” He gives me a quick wave and turns to Scarlet again. “Can we keep playing now?”
“Dinner’s ready and waiting,” she reminds him. “I know it’s not Tuesday, but we’re having tacos.”
“Sounds good.” I stop a few feet from Scarlet, and suddenly everything feels so fucking weird. We function like a couple but don’t touch each other. She takes care of my son, and he’s enamored with her. She’s a little odd, but it’s one of the many things I find so damn attractive about her.
And that kiss we shared her first weekend here…there’s no denying we have chemistry.
“Have you heard from your sister?” Scarlet asks, brushing leaves out of Jackson’s hair. “I was going to text her and see how things are going but didn’t know if that would be overstepping.”
“I don’t think it would be, and yeah, I did. Things are going as well as they can, considering.”
Scarlet nods. Her concern is genuine, and her friendship with my sister makes this even weirder. No one in my family liked Daisy much. They tolerated her for my sake, but she never even made an effort to hang out with Quinn.
“That’s good, I guess. It’s hard when you think someone is doing well and then things go right back to the beginning.” She gets a distant look in her eyes, and I get a feeling she’s speaking from experience. “And Wes…”
“Yeah?”
“What you did for him was really nice.”
“Bobby’s not a terrible person, and arresting him is hard on Quinn and Archer.”
“You really care about your family. It’s not something I see too often.” A slight flush colors her cheeks. She pushes her hair back, finding leaves at the end of her long locks, and shakes her head. “We should get in and eat.”
“Yeah,” I agree. We all go into the house, and by the time I get changed and back down, the table is set, and Mexican music is playing from Scarlet’s phone.
“We’re having a f*e-yes-ta,” Jackson tells me, proud of himself for learning a new word. He takes my hand and leads me to the table. There are chips and salsa already out on the table, and Scarlet brings over two margaritas.
“They’re virgin, obviously, since there’s no tequila in the house.”
“I have one too!” Jackson picks up his plastic up and wants to “do cheers” with everyone. Dinner is good, and Jackson tells me about his trip to the orchard. My sore throat gets worse, and by the time I get Jackson bathed and in bed, I have a bad headache.
“Not feeling well?” Scarlet asks when she sees me get a bottle of painkillers from a cabinet in the kitchen.
“I think I’m getting sick,” I admit.
She sets her book down on the table and gets up, coming right over to me. She doesn’t stop until her small frame is lined up with mine, and she presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “You have a fever.”
“You don’t know that.”
Pursing her lips, she turns around and gets the thermometer and swipes it across my forehead. “See?” She flips it over to show me my temperature. “One hundred and one point seven. You are sick.”
“I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“Hopefully. You should go to bed and try to rest.”
I make a face. “I’ll go to bed later. I want to watch TV for a while.”
She raises her eyebrows. “You sound like a child.”
“And do you go to bed at eight-thirty when you’re sick?”
“Oh, of course. And I drink extra water and always make sure to take my vitamins.”
“Don’t give up your day job to pursue stand-up comedy.”
She laughs. “But my witty sarcasm is everyone’s cup of tea.” She sets the thermometer down and goes back to her book. “Do you want to continue American Horror Story?”
“Sure,” I say, and we go into the living room together. I make it through one episode before I start to feel worse, and as much as I want to stay on the couch and imagine taking things farther with Scarlet, I go up to bed.
I feel even worse when I wake up in the morning. Scarlet is already downstairs making Jackson breakfast.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, cutting up an apple.
“I’ve been better.”
She trades the knife for the thermometer and takes my temp again. “Your temp went up. You should stay home.”
“I’ll take some Tylenol and my fever will go down. I’ll be fine.”
*
“Wes?”
The kitchen light turns on and I look up, blinking. Scarlet stands in the threshold, hand still on the light switch, eyes narrowed as they adjust to the dark.
“You okay?”
I pick up the pill bottle I dropped, head throbbing so bad it’s hard to function. “A little shitty,” I admit. I felt like shit when I came home from work, and the fever never went away. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, it’s usually bad.
And right now, I feel like I’m dying.
She crosses the kitchen, stopping in front of me and putting her hand on my cheek. “Jesus, you’re burning up.” She grabs the thermometer. “One-oh-three point four. That’s really high, and you’ve had a fever for over twenty-four hours. Maybe you should go into the ER or something. You could be dehydrated.”
“I don’t need to go to the ER.”
She takes the pill bottle from me, looking worried. “Trust me, I’m not one to suggest going to the hospital, like ever, since they rip you off on bills.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s bullshit, but having a high fever for this long isn’t good for you.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“Maybe.”
She takes out two pills and hands them to me. I grab a glass and fill it with water.
“No need to worry.” I try to smile, but the lights above me are making my headache worse. I’m not entirely sure I won’t throw up. “I’m gonna go back to bed.”
“I’m going to come check on you in twenty minutes,” she says seriously, “and make sure your brain hasn’t fried.”
Bringing my hand to my forehead, I nod, wincing from the movement, before dragging my ass back up the stairs. I crash into bed, closing my eyes and praying for the Tylenol to bring down this damn fever and make the headache go away.
It doesn’t.
I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, which is hard to do since every bone in my body is aching now. Scarlet softly knocks on the door.
“Wes?” she whispers. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah.” I sit up, squinting in the dark. I can see the glow of the thermometer in her hand as she draws near. She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes my hair back. Her touch is soft and gentle, instantly comforting me.
“You still feel warm.”
“It’s been twenty minutes already?” I mumble.
“Eighteen. I’ve been timing it.”
My eyes fall shut, and I smile. “You really are worried, aren’t you?”
“I am.” She takes my temperature. “And I have good reason to be. Your fever went up.”
“That’s probably because I’m covered up.”
She presses her lips into a thin line, not convinced. “You can get brain damage from high fevers.”
“They have to be higher.”
“Wes,” she stresses, hand falling to my thigh. I’ve imagined her here, in my room…in my bed…touching me so many times before. But not like this. Still, having her here is nice. “It’d be one thing if you woke up with a really high fever and we waited it out. But this has been going on for over a day. You probably have the flu. People die from the flu. And you could give it to Jackson.”
Dammit, she knows exactly what to say to make me bend.
“Fine. If I still have a fever in the morning, I’ll go in to the doctor.”
“Thanks.” She brushes my hair back again. “Lay down. I’m bringing you a wet rag and some cold water.”
“You don’t have to,” I tell her, though that sounds heavenly right now. “And I don’t want you to get sick.”
“I’m already exposed. Jackson too.”
“He’s probably the one who gave this to me,” I say with a smile. Then my headache intensifies, and I squeeze my eyes shut, laying back down. Scarlet leaves, coming back a minute later. Ice clinks against the sides of the water glass, and she makes me get up and take a drink before gently pressing the wet rag to my forehead.
I don’t remember the last time someone took care of me like this. Daisy was never very maternal—obviously—and while she cared and really did love me for a while there, so much of our time was spent fighting or ignoring each other that it’s hard to remember the good times.
“Do you have another thermometer?” she asked, picking up the rag and flipping it to the cool side. “Because the forehead one won’t work now.”
“Yeah, there’s one in Jackson’s bathroom.”
“It’s not a rectal thermometer, is it?” she jokes.
“That’s actually the kind I prefer.”
She laughs and runs her fingers through my hair. I’m feeling a little out of it thanks to the fever. I’m not going to kiss her again because I’m sick, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I confess what I’m feeling.
Because right now I know that I’m starting to fall for her.
ScarletThe bed frame creaks, and I startle awake. I sit up, goosebumps covering my arms, and blink in the dark.“Wes?” I whisper, feeling the mattress shake beneath me. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in Weston’s bed. I’m on top of the covers and he’s underneath, and we’re on the opposite sides of this king bed.The sheets rustle, and I see the outline of Weston’s large body moving. Red hot fear pulses over me, and my heart immediately starts racing. I reach for Wes, hand landing on his shoulder.“Scarlet?” he croaks, throat dry. “What’s wrong?” He sits up too fast and winces. I squeeze my eyes shut, having a hard time blocking out the memory.“I thought you were having a seizure.” A chill rips through me, causing me to tremble.“Why would you think that?”The words want to come out, and the fear I had before of him judging me, of being looked at differently—as unworthy—is gone. “When my sister was little, she got really sick with a bad fever.” I wrap my arms around myself, shivering ha
Scarlet“You could take another day off,” I tell Wes, looking up from Jackson’s bed. I’m stripping the sheets and replacing them with new ones. Wes slept pretty much all day after we got home from the hospital and took it easy the next day. Now he’s ready for a long day of work.“I don’t need to,” he tells me, leaning against the door frame. “I don’t have a fever anymore. And you and Jackson are fine, so the virus is gone.”“Don’t you dare jinx us. Those things can lay dormant for days.”“If you get sick, I’ll take care of you.”The elastic slips out of my fingers, and the fitted sheet pops off the mattress. Heat rushes through me, and my pussy quivers at the thought of him taking care of me. Yesterday, the three of us lounged around and watched movies for most of the day. It was more than just nice.It was perfect.Well, except how fucking horny Weston makes me. We get along. He makes me laugh. And I want him so bad I’m going to have to change my underwear the moment he leaves. My bo
WestonFuck. Me. I’m in trouble.It’s Friday night, and while I’m still not at one hundred percent, I agreed to go out with everyone to Getaway tonight. And I mean everyone. Logan and Owen are there already, of course. Dean and Kara are going, as well as Quinn and Archer. Quinn invited Scarlet to hang out with her and her friend Jamie, and I can tell Scarlet’s looking forward to it.“Ready?” Scarlet asks, coming down the stairs as if she has no idea she looks like a temptress. Swallowing hard, I shift my weight to hide my hardening cock. It’s going to be one hell of a night. She curled her hair and is wearing a simple, curve-hugging black dress and heels. My mind jumps ahead, and I imagine myself pushing her up against the wall. I can almost feel her legs around me as I inch the hem of her black dress up and over her ass.Dammit. Now I have an erection.“Just a second,” I mumble and go into the kitchen, clenching the muscles in my thighs to try and get rid of this thing. I open the fr
Weston“You can tell me anything,” I say. Unable to help myself, I put my arms around her again. Scarlet tenses, and for a moment I think she’s going to pull away from me. Then she relaxes in my arms, leaning back against me. Holding her is one of the best feelings in the world.“My dad is sick, but it’s not the kind of sick he’ll get better from.”“I’m sorry.”“Don’t be. He more or less did it to himself. Years of heavy drinking and getting into fights takes its toll on the body.” She inhales, breath catching. I hold her closer, pressing my lips to the back of her neck. I can tell this is painful for her, and the confession is like pulling the bullet out of the wound. It hurt going in, and it’ll hurt coming out, but once it’s gone, the wound can begin to heal.“He’s in a nursing home, a really shitty one at that, but it’s the best I can do. And my sister can’t join us because she’s in jail.”I blink but don’t say anything. I was not expecting any of that. Waiting for her to go on, I
ScarletIf my arms weren’t wrapped around Weston’s neck, my weakened knees might have given out. He’s standing before me, with one hand wrapped in my hair and the other planted on the base of my back, fingers inching down my ass. His legs are slightly spread, hips close to mine.I open my mouth to tell him I’ve been ready for him to fuck me, but no words come out. I’m breathless before him, excited and intimidated all at the same time. Tingles are running rampant through my body, and I’m as hot as I am cold from the chilly night air.He steps forward, closing the distance between us. His hard cock presses against me, and holy shit, that thing is big. I shouldn’t be surprised since he towers over me. Every aspect of Weston is big, and his cock is no exception. I bring my hand down, fingers trembling, and feel its length through his pants. Wes grunts, pushing himself forward. It will be a tight fit inside of me, and the thought of having him push that big dick all the way in makes a shi
ScarletThe way he says my name makes my heart skip a beat, but not in a good way. I tense and sit up, suddenly cold now that I’m away from his body heat. He swallows hard, doesn’t look me in the eye, and pushes himself up on the mattress. Moving his pillow behind him, he leans against the headboard.“You regret sleeping with me?” I blurt.“Fuck no.” He shakes his head and reaches for me. I tense, heart hammering away and feeling like I might throw up. I open my heart to a man for all of half a night and he’s already dropping the we need to talk line.What is wrong with me? Why did I think things would be different with Wes? I’ve been burned by love so many times in the past, starting with my own mother. Love isn’t real, and I need to pull away now before I die in a sea of flames.“Scarlet,” he says again and takes a hold of my waist. He’s stronger than me and he knows it, but I’ll be damned before I let him get the best of me.“I can just go if you want me to.” I pull away and start
WestonScarlet and Jackson are back at the house by the time I’m done talking with Mr. Williams. I’m not officially divorced yet, but the process has started. And it feels so fucking good.My heart lurches in my chest, and I can’t stop smiling when I step onto the porch carrying a pizza. Jackson’s sitting on Scarlet’s lap on the couch, and she’s reading him a book. His eyes are heavy, and he looks like he’ll fall asleep at any minute. They haven’t noticed me yet, and I stop to watch them through the window for another few seconds.Jackson rests his head against Scarlet’s shoulder, and she brings her hand up, running her fingers through his hair. His eyes start to flutter closed, making me almost feel bad for coming into the house and waking him up. It’s impossible to sneak in and out with our current alarm system, which is why I have it set up the way I do.I unlock the front door and step in. Scarlet smiles the moment she sees me, and Jackson is more excited about the pizza. I set it
ScarletI’ve never felt more welcome, more at home, than I do with the Dawsons. Everyone was thrilled when Wes told them we were dating. I think I smiled the entire time we ate, the whole way home, and while I straightened up the house when Wes put Jackson to bed.“I have to work in the morning,” Wes reminds me when I get into bed next to him.“I know. You’re leaving at seven, right?”“Yeah. And then I have some campaign shit to do.” He turns off the bedside light and takes me in his arms. “I want to stay home with you.”“I’d like that too.” I curl a leg up around him.“Is it presumptuous to open that box of condoms now?” he asks with a cheeky grin.“No. Not at all.”He kisses my neck and moves on top of me. “So, we had sex,” he starts.“We did? When?”“Just now. You didn’t feel it?”“Ohhh, that’s what that was.” I laugh, and he nibbles at my neck.“What I mean is, we had sex without protection. I know you said you don’t think you can get pregnant, but…well…are you sure?”“Yes. If you
ScarletSeven 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