Owen doesn’t say anything back, which isn’t like him. His jaw tenses and he focuses on the passing country road. Other than the radio playing, it’s silent between us the rest of the way to Logan and Danielle’s farmhouse.
Dexter, the German Shepherd, is playing fetch with Jackson when we pull up. He gets excited the second he sees Owen and bolts over, jumping up and trying to lick Owen’s face. Owen crouches down, hugging the dog, and my ovaries threaten to explode.
What is it about guys and dogs that’s so damn attractive?
“Hi, Charlie!” Jackson calls, picking up a slobbery tennis ball.
“Hey, Jackson.” I smile at the boy and then wave to Scarlet, Quinn, and Mrs. Dawson, who are on the wrap-around porch with the other children. Jackson throws the ball and Dexter takes off after it. Brushing fur off his shirt, Owen steps behind me. His hand lands on the small of my back, fingers pressing softly into my skin. I stiffen and he jerks his hand down.
“Sorry. Habit,” he mumbles and keeps his eyes locked on the house in front of us.
“I’m so glad you made it,” Mrs. Dawson comes down the steps and gives me a hug. “I didn’t realize just how much I’ve missed you until you came around again.”
“It is nice having another blonde at the table,” Scarlet jokes and looks down at her baby. “It’ll be a while until this one has much hair.”
“We blondes need to stick together,” I laugh. Owen says hi to his family and goes right into the house to find Logan.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Mrs. Dawson asks. “I brought sangria.”
“No, I’m fine for now, thank you. I’ll have some with dinner.”
“Can I smell your glass?” Quinn asks, making a face before laughing. “I miss drinking.”
“You’ll drink again soon enough,” Scarlet tells her. “I think it’s amazing you’re able to stick with breastfeeding. After two months, I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“I only nursed my first two,” Mrs. Dawson says. “I attempted to with the twins but couldn’t keep up. And they turned out fine.”
“That’s debatable,” Quinn quips. “Though I did okay for myself. Don’t feel bad about it, Scar.”
Scarlet smiles and blinks rapidly as if she’s trying to keep from crying. This must be a sore subject for her, and seeing Quinn and Mrs. Dawson come to her defense and make her feel better reminds me even more how much I loved being part of this family.Chapter 25Charlie“Do you need help with anything?” I ask Danielle, going into the kitchen to get a glass of sangria. So much for waiting until dinner, right? Danielle is standing at the oven, stirring the sauce to pour over enchiladas.
“Oh, you don’t need to do anything,” she tells me.
“I know I don’t, but I don’t mind, either.”
“I feel bad inviting people over and putting them to work.”
I laugh. “I offered, but I totally understand. Though I haven’t invited people over in a while. My apartment in New York was so small. We could hardly fit guests over.”
“So those roomy apartments you see on TV are all a lie, right?”
“Totally. Well, the lie would be how regular people afford them. I loved the area I lived in. It was close to Central Park and to work, but holy shit it was expensive.”
“The whole east coast is crazy expensive.”
I pick up the pitcher of sangria and fill up a wine glass. “Oh right, you said you went to Yale.”
“I did, and before that, I was born and raised in Connecticut. I have to say I like it here much better.”
“I do too.”
Danielle turns off the burner. “You don’t miss it at all?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I miss being challenged at work, but I’m sure once I get more clients here, I’ll come up against some hard cases.”
“You do not look like a lawyer.”
“That’s a compliment, right?” I ask with a laugh.
“I think so. I’m stereotyping, though Elle Woods didn’t look like a lawyer either and she turned out to be one of the best.”
“I might have identified with her a lot as a kid.”
“She’s not a bad role model,” Danielle laughs. “Sorry if I was weird earlier.”
“You weren’t,” I assure her. I look out through the kitchen window, watching Owen run across the yard in an attempt to get a kite up in the air for Jackson. He’s so good with his nieces and nephews. I bring my glass of sangria to my lips and suck down a mouthful or two.
“What do you need help with?” I ask Danielle.
“Uhhh.” She moves away from the stove. “The table needs to be set.”
“I can handle that.” I take one more gulp of sangria and set the glass down. “What cabinet are the plates in?”
“The corner one.”
I step around Danielle and open the only corner cabinet, pulling out a handful of plates. I take them to the table and then go back for more. Everyone but Archer is here, and I have to stop and count to see just how many we need. I’m starting to feel a little drunk as I count out. That’s eleven adults, right? And then two babies, one toddler, and Jackson.