Dawson Family Boxset (Books 1-3)

by Emily Goodwin

  “Hi, Logan,” Scarlet says, pointing to him. “And Owen. I got it right this time, didn’t I?”

  Logan nods. “Right, but it’s not hard. I’m much better looking than he is.”

  Scarlet laughs and takes off her shoes and coat. “You dress alike and even your mannerisms are the same.”

  Jackson slides out of Owen’s lap, wanting to show him the farm set-up he worked on while he was here yesterday. Logan starts to get up to follow them, but I stop him.

  “Does he know Charlie is engaged?” I ask in a hushed voice.

  “Charlie’s engaged?” Logan’s eyebrows go up. Fuck. Owen doesn’t know.

  Scarlet takes a seat next to Logan and pulls the bag of chips over. “Who’s Charlie?”

  “Owen’s ex who he’s not over,” Logan tells her. “He won’t admit it, but we all know he still has feelings for her.”

  “Poor guy.” Scarlet shakes her head.

  “How’d you find out she’s engaged? Last I heard she was living in New York,” Logan says.

  “I met with her dad today,” I tell him, and he puts two-and-two together right away.

  “Are you free?” His lips curve into a smile. “Can I pour a round to celebrate?”

  “What are we celebrating?” Mom asks, coming into the kitchen carrying an armload of Mason jars. “Oh, hello, Scarlet. It’s so good to see you again.”

  “It’s nice to see you too. Need any help?”

  “No, but thank you. I’m canning tomorrow and just brought these up from the basement.” Mom puts everything in the sink. “Is there really a celebration? I’ll drink to it if there is.”

  “You’ll drink to anything,” Logan quips.

  Mom nods. “That is true. I do enjoy wine, though tonight I’m having a marg to go with my taco.”

  “Don’t call it a marg, Mom.” Logan shakes his head.

  “Why not?”

  Logan laughs. “Just don’t. And Wes said he talked to a lawyer today. So I’m assuming that means…”

  “I petitioned for a divorce,” I finish, feeling a huge sense of relief as soon as the words come out of my mouth. “Given the circumstances, how long Daisy has been gone, and the fact that she hasn’t provided any sort of support for our son, Mr. Williams thinks he can have things handled fairly quickly and I’ll be granted full custody of Jackson.”

  Mom gasps and claps her hands together. “I have been praying for this!” She pulls me into a hug.

  “You know how weird it sounds to admit you’ve been praying for me to get divorced?”

  Mom laughs, giving me one more squeeze. “Oh, stop it. I want you to be happy.”

  “I am, Mom. I am.”

  The garage door opens, sending the dogs running in a frenzy. Quinn and Archer make their way in, trying to make it to the kitchen table without being tripped by the dogs. Archer sets Emma’s car seat on the table, folding back the blanket she’s covered with. Somehow she stayed asleep through all the noise.

  “Hey guys,” Quinn says and notices Mom’s watery eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I assure her. “Mom’s being overly emotional.”

  “Shocker, right?” Logan laughs.

  “About what?” Quinn goes right for the tequila and unscrews the lid.

  “I finally filed for a divorce,” I say.

  Quinn reacts just like our mother, running over to hug me. “Yes! Can you make her take her maiden name back too? I don’t even want her to be a Dawson anymore.”

  “Having your name be Daisy Dawson forever is almost a punishment,” Logan says.

  “It’s pretty awful,” Archer agrees. “Sounds like a cheap porn star.” He yawns, and I notice he looks dead on his feet.

  “Long day at work?” I ask.

  “I had a nine-hour surgery and then spent forty-five minutes arguing with a patient’s insurance company.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know if want to punch someone or take a nap.”

  “Have a drink first,” Quinn says, going back to the margarita. “Then take a nap.”

  “Why are you here?” Logan asks, grabbing another chip. “I’d be passed the fuck out if I did anything for nine straight hours.”

  “I’m hungry,” Archer says, and we laugh. “And it’s nice coming here and being together. It means a lot to Quinn.”

  “You’re so whipped,” Logan teases.

  “I don’t mind it. Not one bit.” Archer watches Quinn mix him a drink. Gaining my approval to date my baby sister isn’t easy. But Archer’s a good guy and I know he really cares about her.

  “I think it’s sweet,” Scarlet says with a smile. “And it is nice that you all get together like this.”

  “I love it.” Quinn pours way too much tequila into the drink, making Logan wince. “I missed it when I lived in Chicago.” She mixes up the drink and pours it into a glass. “Anyone else want one?”

  “Let me take over, sis.” Logan gets up, patting Quinn on the shoulder and takes the margarita from her hand. He smells it and shakes his head. “Are you trying to get Archer drunk?”

  “Kind of. Then I’ll ask for another cat.” She flashes Archer a smile. “Kidding. Eight is enough.”

  “More than enough.”

  “Actually,” I start, sure I’m going to regret this. “If you still want to get rid of one…Jackson keeps asking.”

  “You guys need a pet,” Mom says, taking Emma out of her car seat. “But dogs are much friendlier.”

  “Cats are easier,” I counter. “I’m not home enough for a dog.”

  “But Scarlet is,” Mom goes on.

  Scarlet wrinkles her nose. “I’m more of a cat person.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Quinn beams, going over to the chips and salsa. Dad, who was grilling corn on the covered patio, comes in. He’s a die-hard griller and will stand out there in the middle of winter.

  Owen and Jackson come back to the kitchen, ready to eat. Dean and Kara aren’t here yet, and we all try to convince Mom to let us go ahead and eat without them. Right hen we’ve just about got her to cave, we see Dean’s car pull into the driveway.

  “I need to update Jackson’s forms at school,” I start, turning to Logan. “I’m putting you as an emergency contact after Scarlet. I had Quinn on there, but now it’s easier for you to get over to the school than it would be for her with Emma.”

  Logan nods. “Okay.”

  “I can be an emergency contact,” Owen offers, and I make a face. He’d do a good job looking after Jackson, I know, but it’s fun hassling him.

  “You’re the last person I’d put on the list,” I tell him. “Quinn is first, and then Logan, then Dean, then Quinn’s cats, and then you.”

  “You’re so fucking hilarious,” Owen says dryly.

  “Finally! We’re starving,” Quinn says dramatically when Dean and Kara step into the house.

  “Sorry.” Dean unzips his coat. “We couldn’t leave with the dishwasher going.” He rolls his eyes. Kara shakes her head, clenching her jaw. I can tell they were fighting, and I don’t think the dishwasher was the only issue.

  “It might leak,” Kara says through gritted teeth. “Like it did before.”

  “I fixed it,” Dean spits.

  “Hey!” Quinn blurts, trying to be the peacekeeper. “Wes has good news!”

  “Yeah, I do.” I put my arm around Scarlet. I look into her beautiful blue eyes and smile. “I filed for divorce and Scarlet and I are dating.”

  29

  Scarlet

  I’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 i
n 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 knock me up, it would be a miracle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I let out a breath. “I don’t think I can have kids.” As soon as I say it out loud, I wish I could take it back. What if Wes wants another kid? Is that a deal-breaker? Thinking of him not wanting to be with me is like a stake through the heart.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “The last time I saw my OB, she said I only have one functioning ovary and my cycles are extremely random. Like I only have a few periods a year.”

  “Oh.” Wes’s face is unreadable. He’s thinking, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking about. “I’m glad an unplanned pregnancy isn’t likely, but, uh, sorry? I don’t know what to say.”

  “I don’t either. But I really like how honest you are.” A twinge of guilt hits me. I’m honest with him now, and I plan to be from here on out. But I wasn’t, and thinking back to the woman I was when I stepped out of the car, remembering the disappointment I felt when I realized he wasn’t some rich asshole I could charm money out of…it makes me hate myself.

  “Does that change how you feel about me?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Good.” I let my eyes fall shut and realize how fast my heart is beating. “Do you want more kids?”

  “I don’t know. I used to. Coming from a big family, I thought I’d want that too. But things didn’t work out as I expected and I’m happy. Now more so than before. What about you?”

  “I think I’ve always wanted kids,” I admit, not letting myself stop and think. “But I didn’t want to raise them in the same situation I was in when I grew up.”

  “You’ve never mentioned your mom,” he says carefully. “Is she out of the picture?”

  “Yes. She’s dead.”

  “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” I’m speaking my truths. Why stop now? “It sounds terrible, I know. But she was a terrible mother who had me young and should have given me up for adoption and gotten her tubes tied. She died of an overdose and I’m the one who found her. The worst part wasn’t her dying. It was having to tell my sister and brother.” My eyes fill with tears and all the emotions I’ve denied myself of feeling over the years come rushing back. “I dropped out of school to take care of them.” Hot tears roll down my cheeks. “I wasn’t able to go back to school until our dad came back.” I break off, choking up.

  “It’s okay,” Wes soothes, gently wiping away my tears.

  “But it’s not. You’re such a good person, Wes. I’m not. I’ve done so many things I wish I could take back. My life sucked but that’s no excuse. I could have done better. I should have. You need to know this if you want to be with me. That’s who I am. Scarlet Cooper: South Side trash with a dead mother, a sister in jail, and a father who poisoned his own brain with drugs and alcohol.”

  “That doesn’t define you.”

  “But that’s the thing.” More tears spill from my eyes. “Nothing defines me. I…I don’t know who I am.”

  “You’re Scarlet Cooper,” he says slowly, looking right into my eyes. “A little quirky and a lot amazing. You like shifter romance and classic rock. A certain four-year-old who I happen to think is the coolest kid in the world really likes you.”

  I smile.

  “And I do too.”

  “I’ve done bad things, Wes.” My jaw quivers and I want to tell him the truth as much as I don’t. I want to start fresh, confess everything.

  Because I’m in love with Wes Dawson.

  “It’s okay,” he says like he believes it. “It’s in the past.”

  “But I still did them.”

  His brows pinch together. “We live by going forward, not backward.” He wipes away a tear.

  I sniffle, turning my head to the side to mop up my messy face. This is only part of the reason why I hate crying. “I wish I could see myself the way you see me.”

  “You’d see how incredible you are.”

  “Weston,” I start, ready to tell him everything. But he cuts me off with a kiss, and I give in, surrendering myself to him.

  “What’s your excuse this time?” Heather asks before she even sits down at the table. I haven’t seen her in a while, and I feel bad about it. But I’m here now, right? The last few weeks have passed in a whirlwind. A wonderful whirlwind, but they’ve been crazy nonetheless.

  The closer we got to the election, the busier Wes was, and he’s barely been home this week. Logan and Owen came over to pass out candy yesterday so I could take Jackson trick-or-treating. Wes made it home in time to do the last two blocks with him, and we pigged out on candy as soon as we got back to the house.

  “Things have been busy at home.”

  “You call it home now?” Heather’s sporting a fresh cut on her lip and has more bruises on her cheek and arms.

  “What the hell is this?” I reach forward and push up the sleeve of her shirt.

  “Nothing.” She smirks. “You should see the other guy.”

  “This isn’t funny, Heather. I want you out of here.” I close my eyes and let out a breath. There’s no point in arguing with her. I don’t know what it’s like to be in her shoes. My knowledge of how prison is run is limited to what I’ve seen on Orange is the New Black.

  “Home?” she questions again.

  “It feels like home,” I admit. And it does. Everything I own is there. It’s filled with people I care a lot about. I’m sleeping in Wes’s room every night, even when he’s working nights.

  “You look different.” Heather eyes me up and down.

  “How?” I ask, looking around the visitation room. That one annoying woman isn’t here, thankfully. She listened in on my conversations with my sister and just gave off a bad vibe.

  “You’re not wearing black, for one.”

  I look down at my wine-colored sweater. “I don’t always wear black.”

  “Nine times out of ten, you do.” Heather shrugs. “But it works for you.”

  “It’s the color of my soul, what can I say?”

  “Sure. Keep telling yourself that, sis.” She shakes her head. “It’s almost like you’re glowing. You had sex, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “With your boss?”

  “He’s my boyfriend now.” A smile takes over my face.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” I lean back, heart swelling in my chest. “He’s…he’s amazing.”

  “You’re so in love with him.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “Who you love,” Heather presses.

  “I care a lot about him.”

  “Oh my God, Scar, just say it.”

  “I don’t want to jinx anything,” I admit. “Because I’m happy. Things are finally going right in my life and I’m terrified they’re going to crash and burn. That tends to happen to me, you know.”

  “Because you’re usually the one causing the crash. And then pouring gasoline on the fire. I love the shit out of you, big sis, but you’re a bit self-destructive at times.”

  “I know,” I admit with a sigh. “I’d rather end things on my terms…do whatever I can to stay in control.” Shaking my head, I lean back. “Is it crazy to think things can work out for me?”

  “No, not at all.” She puts her hand on mine. “You deserve to be happy, Scar. I’ve had a lot of time to think in here—shock
ing, I know—and I realized how much you gave up for us. You dropped out of school, and you fucking loved school. You were such a nerd.”

  “Yeah,” I say with a smile. “I was. I still am.”

  “And everything you did to take care of Mom and me and Jason…it was a lot to put on you. No one asked you to do any of that. You just did it. And then you did it again when Dad got sick.”

  “It had to be done.”

  “Yeah, and you never once complained. You’ve always taken care of us. Now someone is taking care of you. And I don’t mean just financially.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows. “You mean sexually?”

  Heather laughs. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s good to know he’s adequate in all aspects.”

  “Very adequate.” My heart skips a beat and warmth floods through my veins at the thought of Wes.

  “I want you to be happy. You deserve it, Scar, so much.”

  “Thanks. I…I don’t feel like I do,” I admit. “I’ve been thinking a lot too and I want to do better. Wes makes me want to be a better person.”

  “And you say you don’t love him.”

  “I didn’t say that I didn’t love him.”

  An inmate a few tables over stands up, yelling at her baby daddy. Heather and I turn, distracted by the drama.

  “That’s Jasmine,” Heather whispers. “She’s not sure if he’s really her baby’s father or not. It might be his cousin.”

  “Damn. And you say jail time is boring. It’s like a real-life soap opera.”

  “Oh, I could write a sitcom with all the shit I’ve seen and heard. Half of which no one would even believe. Like the chick a few cells down from me.” Heather shakes her head. “She had a cell phone up her snatch for over a week.”

  “Ew. And ouch. But mostly…how?”

  Heather slowly shakes her head. “No clue. But can you imagine the smell? And rumor has it, it was an iPhone.”

  I shudder. “I have all sorts of questions, but I don’t think I even want to know.”

  “I’ve learned not asking is the way to go.”

  I lean back in the uncomfortable chair. “I talked to Jason yesterday.”