She really hasn’t gone to a big family dinner before.
I look away from the stove, not prepared for the sadness I see in her eyes. She forces a smile and pushes her shoulders back, a move I’ve seen her do before. It’s a move I know, one that might fool the world but starts to break down over time. You can’t lie to your own heart, after all.
“You’re not close to your brother?”
“Oh, I am. I pretty much raised him. He’s nineteen, so the nine-year age difference made me feel more like his mother than anything else, though I guess you get that. You’re the oldest.”
I nod because I don’t know what else to do. Quinn is eight years younger than me, but I never felt like a parent to her. I probably annoyed her growing up—and still to this day—by being an overprotective older brother, but that’s all I was. Her brother. I never felt like I had to raise her or step in and fill a role.
“I have a sister too,” she does on, turning her head down to look at the dishes she’s washing. “She’s twenty. We didn’t get along growing up much either. For the same reasons.”
“What about now?”
She laughs. “Sometimes.” She rinses the pan and sets it on the counter to dry. “My mom wasn’t the best and my dad wasn’t in the picture until I was fifteen.”
“Oh, I’m, uh, sorry.”
She waves a hand in the air. “It’s water under the bridge. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger and all shit, right?” She goes back to washing dishes, closing the conversation about her family. I know there is more to be told, and I know emotional scars when I see them.
“We can bring wine,” I suggest. “My mom likes wine.”
Scarlet looks up with a smile. “That’s something we have in common.”
I laugh. “You’re off to a good start.”13WestonI’ve never once been nervous bringing a girl home to meet my parents. And Scarlet is far from my girl. Still, my heart is beating faster than normal when we get into my Jeep. Scarlet is dressed in a simple black dress. It’s long-sleeved and ends above her knees, with a scoop neckline that shows off her large tits just enough to cause me to want to stare. She curled her hair and put on makeup, looking perfect as usual.
But the way she’s clutching the bottle of wine makes me think she’s nervous too.
“Is there anything I should know about your family?” she asks as I back out of the garage and into the alley that runs behind our house. “Any dark secrets or things?”
There really isn’t. Daisy’s betrayal is the only dark secret in the Dawson family…that I know about, at least. We might not be the most exciting bunch, but I wouldn’t trade my family for anything.
“Don’t bring up cats,” I tell her. “Quinn is almost married and successful, but still very much a crazy cat lady at heart. If she starts talking about cats, she won’t stop.”
“Cats? Well, I wasn’t going to bring them up, but now I’m terrified I’m going to. You’re putting too much pressure on me. Don’t get mad if I start meowing at the dinner table.”
“Funny.” I steal a glance at her, heart hammering even faster when I see her smiling.
“I’m serious. I don’t know if I can handle this kind of pressure right meow.” She looks at me with a straight face. I roll to a stop at a stop sign and stare right back at her. We hold each other’s gaze for a few seconds before we both start to laugh.
“So that’s your family’s deepest, darkest secret? Your rich and successful sister is a crazy cat lady?”
“I never said she was rich.”
Scarlet’s cheeks flush. “I kinda assumed so from meeting her. Not that she was stuck-up or anything. She had a lot of designer items.”
“Oh, I guess.” I turn down the main street that runs through Eastwood. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff. And she is, so you weren’t wrong. And yeah…I guess that’s the worst of it. Quinn’s fiancé is my brother Dean’s best friend. There was some drama there for a while, but everyone is over it.”
“Ohhh, falling for her older brother’s best friend. That is good drama.”
“And Dean’s wife is kind of a…a…” I trail off, not wanting to badmouth family.
“A bitch?” Scarlet finishes for me, mouthing the word so Jackson doesn’t hear.
“You said it, not me, But yes.”
She smiles again. “Your secret’s safe with me.” She turns her head, looking out the window. She hasn’t seen any of Eastwood yet, and now I feel like an ass about it. I’m off tomorrow as well, and I’m going to make it a point to show her around town.
“Do you like dogs?” I ask, turning off the main road and heading toward the outskirts of town.