Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Daisy
“Cheers to baby Grace,” Owen says, holding a glass in the air.
“Cheers!” we all exclaim, clinking our glasses with his.
We’re celebrating the birth of our new niece.
Neither the new parents nor the baby are here, but we drink in their honor.
They got home from the hospital this afternoon and are enjoying their first evening at home by themselves.
We’re a tight-knit group. It was wise of them to ask for time; otherwise, we would have descended upon them.
So, being the accommodating family and friends that we are, we’ve congregated at my youngest brother's bar, The House, without them.
The House is the coolest spot in town. Angus converted the old Goose Hollow Firehouse into a badass bar with a loft apartment above. It may be his bar, but as always, Owen is the captain of the party and wastes no time filling our hands with drinks so we can kick the evening into gear.
In addition to the newest member of the family, we’re celebrating having more of our loved ones home than usual.
Besides myself, Owen, Angus, and Mia my oldest brother, Knox, is here too.
He’s been one of the biggest rock stars in the world for the last twenty years.
He left town at eighteen and never looked back, but his band just finished their farewell tour, and he’s in the process of moving home.
And he’s bringing one of my closest friends, Ryan, home with him.
Yes, two of my three brothers have found true love with my best friends.
At least Cal had the decency to find his forever person outside of my friend group.
Even if she’s recently become one of my closest friends and my business partner.
About an hour after our initial toast, Charlie’s best friend, Karissa, and their friend, Mark march into the bar. They flew up from California as soon as they could after finding out Charlie was in labor, so Owen calls for another toast to the newest McKinnon.
Mark’s arrival irritates me.
Is he close to Charlie? Close-ish.
Close enough to drop everything when she has a baby? Uh, no.
He may be here under the guise of the birth of my niece, but I know he has ulterior motives.
You see, Mark and I are in a bit of a situationship, if you can even call it that.
After watching Owen suck face with his date all night at Cal and Charlie’s wedding, I figured what was good for him was good for me too.
So, I hooked up with the handsome District Attorney from Los Angeles.
We’ve seen each other three times over the last eight months.
He came back to Oregon once a couple weeks after the new year and I’ve been to California twice.
We’re compatible in bed, but we have little else in common. We’re just two adults having fun. Nothing more. We don’t do surprise visits.
After saying surprise, the first thing he asked was if I had room for him at my place.
He knows I only have one bed, and the hungry look in his eyes tells me he showed up with expectations.
I should be happy to see Mark, but he should have called first. We already have a weekend planned for next month.
A weekend that after New York, now feels very complicated.
As promising as Mark may think the night may be, it doesn’t mean I don’t see the newly crowned godparents, Owen and Karissa, flirting.
It makes sense that they would spend time together.
But I know Owen, and I know when he’s laying it on thick to get a reaction out of me.
His dimples are out, and he’s thrown her more than one of his sexy little winks.
His charm factor is at a solid eight point five.
I should feel some kind of way about seeing Owen with Karissa or any other woman, for that matter, and deep, deep down, I do.
But I also know this is Owen. It’s what he does.
He makes women smile. Five years old, twenty-five years old, or ninety-five years old, none of them walk away without feeling like the prettiest girl in the world.
He’s a good-time guy extraordinaire, and if I’m being honest, one of my most trusted friends. An insanely hot friend with secret benefits.
We don’t cash in on our friends with benefits status often. It’s only been ten occasions in as many years. Until New York it had been over nine months since we were last together.
New York was different.
That he’s drinking root beer is infuriatingly different.
Except for this past weekend, he hasn’t had an actual beer in front of me since I jokingly said he drank too much of the stuff.
We’d been sparring as we got naked after Winter Fest two Decembers ago.
He thinks he’s so damn funny, taking away one of the reasons I said was keeping us apart.
Hell, things have been different for some time. For me, it was after a week on a tropical beach a couple of years ago. That was the first time he confessed he wanted more than the occasional hookup, and he’s been in my head ever since.
Yes, we tend to end up in dark corners together, which leads to a night—or with one trip to Hawaii, days—of fun. But at the core of us, he’s my brother's best friend, and that makes him my family.
My friend.
We’ll never be more than that.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Mark asks, snaking an arm around my waist.
Mark is unusually touchy tonight. His behavior isn’t inappropriate, and his touches aren’t usually unwelcome.
But his behavior is different here on my turf.
When I visit him in L.A., he’s buttoned up, and there is never PDA of any kind on the rare occasions we’ve poked our heads out of his downtown apartment to take in some fresh air.
But here in Goose Hollow, he’s all over me.
He and I haven’t talked in two weeks. We aren’t a couple. His PDA is giving me the ick.
It’s not that I’m embarrassed to be seen with him.
Quite the opposite. He’s kind, funny, and attractive in that business suit type of way.
Maybe a little too slick on the surface, but once I have him out of his suit and mess up his perfectly quaffed hair, he distracts me enough to forget I prefer the denim and boots of a certain cowboy.
I’m not his and he’s not mine.
We’re having occasional fun, nothing more. I’m not moving to Los Angeles, and he certainly isn’t moving to Goose Hollow.
Heck, I’m not sure I’ll ever find the one at this rate. Not when Owen is around every corner.
Mark’s fingers squeeze my hip, and I realize I haven’t replied to him. “Sorry, I think I’m still out of it after my sleep-deprived weekend in New York and then two days at the hospital. I’m in a baby fog.”
“Sounds like a nice long massage may be in order when we get back to your place.”
And there it is. Another reason I should be happy for his unexpected visit. But I’m not.
“In that case, let’s call it a night,” I kid.
“I’m at your beck and call. Just say the word.”
And he is at my beck and call. When it comes to the men I sleep with, I am always in control. All it took was one shitty college breakup and a night I still see when I close my eyes, and I swore to myself I would never relinquish control to a man again.
Except to Owen.
I may not think we’re destined to be forever, but there is nobody I trust more with my body. No other man will ever tell me what to do between the sheets.
Only Owen.
Mark’s offer to leave should be appealing, but I’m not in a rush. Too many of my favorite people are here. I’ve never chosen a man over my family and friends. That isn’t going to change tonight.
I know my worth and have never needed a man to make me feel complete. My decision to be single isn’t because of the poor example set by my parents. They were happily together for decades until dad passed away. No, I simply learn from my mistakes.
Choosing to be single doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely.
Mark may not cure my loneliness, but he scratches an itch. And that’s all I’ve ever asked from him.
Besides, I’m up to my eyeballs in men. Charlie and I started our own business, High Desert Designs, last year, and business is booming. When you work in the male-dominated world of construction and renovation, a woman can get her fill of men without even trying.
Charlie and I flip houses for a living. She builds furniture.
I do the interior design, and together we draw up the plans and deal with a multitude of contractors.
So, I’m well-versed in men from all walks of life.
We work with blue-collar workers and wealthy white-collar men.
We are usually hiring the former and are most-often hired by the latter.
But in most situations, Charlie and I are the only women in the room or at the job site.
And let’s not forget my three overprotective older brothers.
So, yeah. Men, I know.
“I’ll remember that once we get back to my place,” I reply to Mark’s promise. Like I said, he scratches an itch, and he scratches it well. But I’m not ready to leave yet.
“Clover, come settle an argument for us,” Owen yells, snatching my attention from my beck and call boy. My boots head in his direction without a second thought.
His childhood nickname never used to faze me, but now I hear it and my stomach bottoms out in the best kind of way.
Stupid New York.
Why did he have to mess up the good thing we had going?
“How can I be of service?” I ask, looking between Owen and my newly shorn brother.
Until this afternoon, Knox had a thick head of hair that went past his shoulders. Tonight, I walked in and couldn’t believe my eyes. He has shaved it all off. Down to a buzz cut. New life, new hair, I guess.
“Tell me. In your professional opinion... What's sexier? Chin dimples or cheek dimples.”
Seriously? It’s constant nonsense with him.
I roll my eyes. Hard. “You’re an idiot. You know that?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. But answer the question.”
“Superman has a chin dimple,” Knox offers.