“To move in until there’s more room. I heard what happened to your cat. I don’t have any dogs, you know.”
She leans back, looking slightly horrified. “How do you know what happened to Tulip?”
“Quinn,” I huff. “She basically funds the local cat rescue group on her own. She’s at the vet more than anyone I know.”
“More than your mom?” she asks, and a small smile starts to pull up her face. “She still has a million dogs, right?”
“Just four,” I laugh. “Quinn actually does have a million cats, though.”
“Cats are amazing.” Her eyes sparkle even under the dull overhead lights.
“How is your cat?”
Her smile falls and concern takes over her face. “She’ll pull through. I’m lucky I was home to break up the fight.”
I nod. “You are. So when are you two moving in?”
Biting her lip, she gives me a glare. Fuck, that stern look makes my cock jump. What I’d give to have her punish me right now…
“Owen,” she starts but doesn’t finish her thought.
“If you’re unable to resist me, just say it and I promise not to be offended.”
“I can resist you just fine.”
“Then use the guest bedroom for the next few weeks. It has its own bathroom. And I have no pets.”
“Why don’t you?” she asks as if it’s incriminating not to have any.
“I’m not home much. I had a bird for a while.”
“A bird?” She wrinkles her nose.
“Yeah. Someone ditched it in the cage on the side of the road. He was cool and knew how to say ‘fuck’ and a few other choice words.”
“What happened to him?”
I lower my gaze to the bar, stomach clenching just thinking about it. Captain Morgan was a fucking awesome cockatiel. “Jackson let him out when the living room ceiling fan was on high.”
Charlie gasps and brings her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”
I just shrug. “It was an accident. And as far as Jackson knows, Cap is living at the aviary at a zoo. I haven’t gotten any new pets since.”
Charlie tips her head up, holding my gaze for a few seconds. “You really wouldn’t mind having me and my crippled cat at your place for a while?”
“Of course not.”
“If I do this—and that’s a big if—it’s only because I’m literally out of every single other option, and that includes screening in the back porch and living in my parents’ yard.”
“Well, what else would it be?” I lean a little closer. “A chance to win you back?”
“Win me back?” Charlie’s eyebrows go up. “Like I’m some sort of prize?”
“Of course not. You’re a strong, smart, independent woman who I’ve always respected. I was using win you back as a saying, I suppose. But I do plan to.”
Charlie quickly shakes her head and looks down. “Fool me once,” she says so softly I hardly hear her.
“Come to dinner with my family on Sunday. I’ll show you I’m not going to fool you again. Fool around with…yes. But just fool…I’m not that person anymore, Charlie.”
She looks up and I see the hurt in her eyes. It’s only there for a second, and I’m not sure if she’s thinking about us together in the past or her loser fiancé. The guy has to be the world’s biggest dumbass to do anything to lose Charlie.
Right when I think she’s going to say no, her eyes meet mine. “What time?”
“Six.”
“Should I bring anything?”
I shake my head. “My mom’s methods of cooking haven’t changed.”
“So she’s still making enough food to feed a small army.”
“She is, and we usually eat it all.”
“You Dawsons are basically a small army.” Her lips start to curve up into a smile. “And there are more of you now. Is everyone going to be there?”
“More than likely. Sometimes Wes and Archer are called into work, but the rest of the gang will be there. I think you’ll like Danielle, Logan’s wife.”
“It’s still weird to hear you say that.”
I chuckle. “It’s still a little weird for me to say that. And to have him be busy with her all the time.”
“You two were always close.”
I shrug. “It’s a twin thing.”
“And you said that all the time too. I never really understood it.”
Even though Charlie said she didn’t want wine, I grab a bottle just in case she changes her mind. “No one but twins will. It makes it fun.”
“So…I’ll meet you there?”
“I can pick you up.”
“Sure. That would be fine. I take it you remember where my parents live?”
My head bobs up and down. “I drive by every holiday hoping to see you changing in your bedroom window.”
She purses her lips. “That happened once, and—oh my God. You took a picture!”
I was nineteen at the time and mostly took the photo to show her how visible she was from the street. But also, because I was nineteen and making mature decisions every day, of course.