Fight Dirty (Dawson Family 5) - Page 3

I trade my spoon for the bottle of wine I have wedged between the couch cushions. “I’m getting there.” I close my eyes and welcome the dry red wine down my throat. “How was work?”

“Ugh,” he starts and takes off his shoes. It’s one of my few rules I put in place about living together. Take off your shoes when you walk in. Those things have been all over the city and it’s gross. I’m not a germaphobe by any means, but you can’t argue with the nastiness tracked in on the soles of your shoes when you’ve been on the subway.

Todd always hated it and often forgot to take his shoes off.

“This case is a tough one. Both sides have solid arguments.”

“Those are the best cases.” I take another drink of wine. “As long as your side is stronger.”

“Oh, it will be.” He hangs his jacket on the back of a chair before coming into the living room. His eyes go to the ice cream and wine on the couch. “I thought your stomach was upset.”

“It was. This helps.”

“Really? Dairy is one of the worst things you can eat when you’re sick.”

“I’ll take my chances.” I shove the wine between the cushions again and go back to the ice cream. My heart radiates with pain, and the speech I had planned fizzles in my mind. I can call him out, tell him that I know he’s been unfaithful, and then what? He’ll give me a million excuses, all of them bullshit, and try to convince me it was somehow my fault.

He sits on the couch next to me, eyes filled with concern. I clench my jaw, not sure how he’s able to do this. How can you act like you care when you’re cheating?

There’s no way I can deny this. He’s cheating on me.

And sitting here like nothing is wrong.

My chest tightens and all the ice cream and wine slosh around in my stomach. I squeeze my eyes closed, words burning on my tongue. Tears leak out of my eyes, running down my cheeks.

It’s funny, how you think you’d react if you were in this situation. I never thought I’d go mute, sitting here unable to make myself say the words. Yet here I am.

“I’m going to shower,” he tells me. “Feel better, babe.” He gets up, going through our little living room to the only bedroom.

What are you going to do?

“Wait,” I say and move the ice cream to the coffee table. Tulip raises her head, sniffing the air as she stares at the tub of ice cream. Something sparks inside of me, lighting a strength I didn’t know I had.

“Yeah?”

I swallow hard, clenching my fingers into my palms. I look right into Todd’s eyes. “I know.”Chapter 2OwenAnd then there was one.

I pop the top to my beer and sit at the kitchen table, looking around at my siblings, who’ve each been happily paired off. All I can think is suckers. Being stuck with the same person for the rest of your life? No fucking way. I’m a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy, though I always make sure to lay out my no-strings-attached ground rules from the start. I’m a player, not an asshole, and I love playing the game of getting new pussy almost every single day of the week. I don’t have to listen to anyone, get to do what I want to do, and have a damn good life.

Logan, my twin, puts his arm around his wife, smiling down at her before she takes a seat across from me. Maybe it would be nice to have someone like—nope.

It’s the single life for me.

I’m happy with how things are. I have three nieces and one pretty cool nephew, and I love being an uncle. I get the best of both worlds: spend time with my family and then give the kids back to their parents so I can go out for the night. Or stay in and play video games, watch TV, or do whatever the hell else I want.

“Can you hold Arya for me for a minute?” Quinn, my sister, asks. “I have to pee.”

“Sure,” I tell her and take the sleeping baby from her arms. Arya’s only a few months old but looks like a Dawson already, with dark hair and eyes a deep shade of blue that will no doubt fade to a soft green just like her mother’s.

“You look good with a baby in your arms.”

I look up to see Danielle smirking at me. Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “Stop imagining me as Logan. It’s creepy.”

She holds up her hands. “Busted,” she laughs. “Though really. You do.”

“I look good no matter what.”

“Just not as good as me,” Logan quips. We’re identical twins and can fool just about everyone but our close family when we try to switch identities. It got us into—and out of—trouble more times than I can count when we were younger.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Dawson Family Erotic
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