11. I Don’t Like Cara. Okay?
I Don’t Like Cara. Okay?
Doug
I leave Cara at the cabins and drive away with a stupid smile on my face. She’s cute as hell.
Against my better judgment, I found myself looking at her while she slept in my truck, waiting a few minutes before waking her. She has a softness about her that I’ve never known before. I made the mistake of taking that for weakness at first, but nah, she’s feisty too.
The way she looked at the house as we walked around it made my heart beat faster. She had no plans for the place, had no real idea what she wanted, and was happy to listen to all the plans I’d always had. She had this wistful look in her eyes the whole time, too, one I didn’t understand until we got outside and sat on the steps.
I can’t believe she’s Charlotte Reynolds’s daughter. I heard the rumors. Every time anyone asked why the old house was sitting empty over the years, the story would be spun out as an explanation. When the only daughter of the town matriarch runs off to live in a foreign country to marry a man she just met, the whispers, of course, hinted at a teen pregnancy, but nothing was ever confirmed.
After Charlotte left, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds left the town and the old house, and the old man died not long after that. Nobody ever said Roberta was waiting to leave it to her daughter, or her granddaughter, there was no real talk of the baby at all, but now she’s here. She’s Cara.
I think about the mischievous glint in her eyes when I dropped her off. She made me feel playful in a way I haven’t felt since I was at college. She made me forget all about the crap with Jessie and my desperation to get custody of Bo. I was just a guy in his truck with a girl he likes.
Driving back to my mom’s house, I feel like a lovesick teenager. I can’t stop my mind from wondering how I could actually make it happen—could I ask her out?
I park up next to Mama’s car, seeing Zoe and Bree’s cars parked up too. I love my family, but a house full of women, my kid, and even a female dog gets heavy sometimes. I take a deep breath and get out of the car, breathing a sigh of relief when Merv opens the door and hands me a beer.
‘Thank god you’re here,’ he says, and I laugh.
‘What are they bustin’ your ass over?’
‘When I’m going to marry your mom. Your kid is a ringleader, my man. She wants to be a bridesmaid.’
I laugh. Bo has been obsessed with weddings ever since she was asked to be a part of my cousin’s wedding last year. She got to wear her Converse under her dress and thought she was the coolest; I mean, she was, but seriously, she just wants a wedding so she can do it again.
‘Well, when are you going to marry my mom?’ I tease, and he glares at me.
‘You ask your mama. She keeps saying no.’
I laugh and follow him through the house.
My mom starting to date Merv was a little weird at first. My dad died when I was sixteen, and for a while, I thought it was my responsibility to be the man of the house and take care of my mom and my sisters. Mom started seeing Merv just before I left for college and just after Jessie and I broke up, and I was a brat about it. My sisters and my tiny little mama quickly put me in my place. They made it very clear that I might be the biggest of the four of us, but I was still the baby, and I needed to remember that.
Merv’s a good guy. He went slow, never pushing my mom for more than she wanted or was ready to give, and he took good care of my whole family when I wasn’t around. Now, we have some semblance of a father/son relationship, and I appreciate that. He’s great with Bowie too. His daughter lives in Ohio, so he doesn’t get to see his grandkids all that often. His arms are wide open to Bo, and she loves her Grandpa Merv.
‘Hey, guys,’ I say as I enter the dining room, where the women in my life are laughing together over one of Bo’s board games as Harley jumps up, wagging her tail, and I instinctively protect myself. This dog is determined to make sure I don’t have any more kids, I swear. I got her as a puppy when Bowie was around eight months old, as I wanted her to have a dog to grow up with just like me, Bree, and Zo did, and she’s the perfect dog for Bo. I just wish she didn’t use my balls for target practice.
‘Daddy.’ Bowie beams and rushes toward me. I pick her up. My mom keeps telling me she’s too big for me to keep picking her up, but until my back is breaking when I lift her, she’s not too big.
‘Hey, sweetie. You have fun with Auntie Zo today?’
‘Yeah, we had ice cream.’
‘ Bowie ,’ Zoe hisses, ‘You ain’t supposed to tell him.’
My girl giggles and covers her mouth, and I remember how little she really is. She inherited my height, and she’s tall for her age, so it’s easy to think of her as older than she is, but she’s not even five yet—she’s still my baby.
‘How was the Reynolds’ house?’ Bree asks, with a sparkle in her eyes that suggests she thinks she knows something.
‘The Reynolds’ house? Why would you be up there?’ Mama asks as I lower Bowie to the floor and lean in to kiss her cheek.
‘New owner. She wants to fix up the place, and Zo set up a meeting.’
‘New owner? Really, I never thought I’d see the day they sold that house.’
‘Well, they didn’t. The new owner is Charlotte’s daughter. Roberta left her the house.’
My mom gasps and holds her hand to her chest, and I remember at that moment, Charlotte was her friend.
‘Charlotte’s daughter is here?’
‘Ah, Mama. I’m sorry.’ I wrap my arm around her shoulder.
‘She’s great, Mama,’ Zoe answers.
Mom waves her hand in front of her and excuses herself to finish fixing dinner, Merv is hot on her heels, and I look each of my sisters in the eyes. No more talk of Cara tonight.
‘How was it, though?’ Zoe whispers, and I shake my head.
‘All good, but let’s change the subject, huh?’
She nods and returns her attention to the game.
I tuck Bowie up in bed, say goodnight to my sisters, then my mom, as she heads up to take a bath, and I sit on the back porch with Merv.
‘She okay?’ I ask, and he nods.
‘Yeah, she’s good. Talk of Charlotte always makes her a little reflective. If I’d known Cara was her kid, I could have given Lynnie a heads up.’
I nod my head, knowing my mom is going to need a few days before she can set her eyes on Cara, and I wonder if Cara has thought about all the people here who knew and loved her mom. I should talk to her about that. I look up at the stars and can’t stop the small smile that curves my mouth when I think about going to talk to her.
‘I should head up. I have some work to do.’
I push up out of my seat, say goodnight to Merv, and head upstairs. After a quick shower, brushing my teeth, and some clean clothes, I get to work on my plans for the house.
I do not know why. Maybe it’s because this project means so much to me, or maybe it’s something I’m not willing to acknowledge, but pulling up at the cabins on Monday morning, I feel nervous.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never been nervous about anything in my life—well, I lie, I was nervous going to talk to Roberta Reynolds about buying the house, and I was scared shitless of becoming a father, but they were big, potentially life- changing events. Doing what I love, what I do best, drawing up plans for a client—I shouldn’t feel nervous about this.
It must be the house. It must just be that I want this job so much. Yeah… it’s definitely the house.
I get out of my truck and grab the paperwork I spent a ridiculous amount of time putting together between Saturday night and this morning. Bowie was baking with my mom before Jessie came to get her, so I sat at the kitchen table working most of yesterday. I’m so pleased with what I’ve put together. I don’t know her budget yet, and she doesn’t either until she finds out what’s in that bank account Roberta set up for her. She did hint at a budget from the house she sold in Scotland, and that’ll be plenty to get us started. I’ve drawn up the plans we discussed, as well as some alternative options for her to think about, and I’ve put together various quotes based on the different plans. I hope she likes it.
I knock on the door, but there’s no answer. It’s not that early, but I know she was struggling with jetlag, so I decide against knocking again and, instead, slide the plans under the door before turning away. I make it two steps before I hear the door open behind me, and I turn back, wishing to fuck that I hadn’t.
‘Oh, hey, morning.’
She beams at me, that long hair of hers tumbling down over her shoulders in messy waves… shoulders that are bare. Bare because she’s wearing nothing but a towel.
‘Oh my god, these are your plans,’ she says excitedly, clutching the folder in her hands and flipping it open, but like a douchebag, I can’t tear my gaze from where her tits are threatening to bust out of that towel. One false move, and I’ll see everything I spent the past two nights alone in bed wondering about. Jesus , Doug, lift your fuckin’ eyes.
By some miracle, she’s still smiling down at the papers when my gaze lands on her face, and fuck, she’s fucking beautiful. I thought she was pretty before, with barely any makeup. Now, with none, just a peppering of freckles showing across her nose and cheeks, a slight flush of pink to her skin, and that smile—I’m in trouble with this woman.
‘These are amazing, Doug. Thank you.’
She lifts those big brown eyes, and I swear my heart beats faster. I reach up to the back of my neck and clear my throat.
‘Uh, yeah, you can, you know, take your time.’
She smiles so wide, so genuine, that the hit of dopamine makes me dizzy. She has no fucking idea what she’s doing to me right now. She’s just happy to have my plans in her hand.
‘Thank you so much.’
‘I should let you get…’ I gesture toward her, not wanting to guess what her plans were before I interrupted.
‘Oh my god,’ she squeals, then giggles. ‘I’m in a towel. I forgot.’ She holds the folder up in front of her, still laughing. ‘Inappropriate, Cara. Sorry.’ She apologizes to me and steps back into the room. I want to tell her no apology necessary but don’t want to open that can of worms.
‘Not a problem.’ I step backward. ‘Let me know what you think. No rush.’
I nod, smile, pull on the peak of my cap, and walk away as the door closes behind me, and I feel like I can breathe again. She’s something else.
‘Hey, little brother,’ Bree calls out as I walk toward the main door of the bar.
‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ She’s not in uniform, which throws me off. ‘Day off?’
‘Yep, I have shit to do today, and I’m making Zoe do it with me.’
I laugh and hold open the door for her to walk into the bar. Bree and Zoe are twins by birth and best friends by choice. They’re always together, causing some kind of trouble, and they bicker like any siblings, but they never get bored of each other. I bet they never will.
I’d love to see them settled and happy with significant others, as they would for me, but maybe it’s living in a small town, or maybe we all just got too used to being single. The thought of Cara flickers in my mind, and I can’t help but smile.
‘What is that look on your face?’ Zoe grabs my attention, and I look up to see her filling three cups with fresh coffee.
‘What?’ I sit on a stool as Bree sits next to me and grabs her cup.
‘Did you fart? Or are you in pain or something? It kinda looked like you were smiling, but this is your grumpy ass, so it can’t be that.’
‘Fuck you.’ I groan, reaching for my cup, and my sisters laugh.
‘So, come on, we’ve waited two days, which I think you’ll agree is an incredible show of patience for us,’ Bree says seriously, and I nod. It is. ‘Tell us about the Reynolds’ house.’
I sip my coffee and try to school my features, but it’s no use. I can’t help the lift in the corners of my mouth.
‘It’s amazing,’ I gush, and my sisters widen their eyes in surprise at the enthusiasm I know they haven’t seen from me in a long time. ‘For real, it’s perfect. Cara didn’t really know what she wanted, so she let me show her what I was thinking, and she listened, you know. She was so into what I had to say,’ my mouth runs away with me, words falling out of it at a rate of knots, and I can’t stop, ‘like she just smiled, heard me, and asked questions. And she wasn’t fazed by any of it at all. She was looking around at it all with this determination to make it a real home, you know? I just, I really want to get it right for her.’
I lower my gaze to the coffee in my hands, and I know I’m smiling.
‘Oh, my god.’
‘Called it.’
I look up to see Bree taking out twenty dollars and handing it to Zo.
‘What the…’
‘I knew you were going to like her. I told Bree. I said she’s the one who’s going to get him to quit looking like he sat bare-assed on a thorn bush.’
‘I told her nobody would be able to do that.’
‘You bet on me? And hold on. I’m looking to renovate her house, nothing else.’ Let’s not get carried away now.
‘Oh, shut up. We asked you about the house, and you talked about her.’ Fuck. ‘You were just yapping like a kid with his first crush. You’re into her. It’s a good thing.’
I don’t know why I feel such a strong urge to deny it when I know she’s right, but I do.
‘Zoe, you’re way off.’
‘ Bullshit . I didn’t see it before,’ Bree gives her two cents, ‘but now I do. You were the same with Jessie back when you were kids, gushing about every little thing she did. You like Cara—ask her out.’
And there it is. Like a ton of bricks that crashes down on top of me, I remember my reasons for staying away from women all this time. Jessie. Bowie. Fuck .
‘Look, I’m excited about the house, okay? Y’all know how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on that place. Sorry to disappoint, but, Zo, you gotta give that money back. I’m not into her.’
‘Doug, come on,’ Bree says softly, looking at me in a way she has so many times. The way she does every time she tells me I need to put myself out there. ‘It’s okay to like her.’
‘No, it ain’t, and you know why,’ I hiss, lowering my tone and ignoring the disappointment in my sisters’ eyes. ‘You need to quit it. I can’t look at anybody that way, and you know I can’t, especially not here.’
‘Doug…’
‘No, Zo, you know this. We have had this talk a hundred times.’
‘Yeah, as a hypothetical, but you never liked anyone before, and you like Cara.’
‘I don’t. Not like that. You can’t be saying that shit.’
‘She doesn’t get to dictate your life, Doug.’
‘She fuckin’ does,’ I snap. ‘She does, Breanne. While she’s in charge of what happens with my kid and when I can see her, and when she’s the one who could run and make sure I never see Bo again, she gets to dictate. Until Bowie is under my roof permanently, I’m a fucking puppet, and Jessie holds the strings. You know that.’
‘Fuck this, Doug. Bree, tell him. She can’t legally keep Bo away from him for dating.’
‘No, she can’t,’ Bree replies, but her eyes don’t leave mine. She gets it. She knows Jessie is a loose cannon, and there’s no telling what she’ll do if she hears something she doesn’t like. She made it clear a long time ago that the second she hears of me with another woman, she and Bowie are gone, and I won’t see them for dust. I can’t risk that.
‘You need to keep this shit to yourself, Zo,’ I growl at her, my voice is so low. ‘I’m serious. She hears even a whisper of me being into Cara, and I could lose everything.’
‘But you like her,’ Zoe whines, and I see in her eyes that she’s frustrated, sad, angry… so many emotions that she has kept in check ever since Jessie told the whole town I got her pregnant and ran. My whole family keeps it in check for me, and they hate it. ‘I want you to be happy.’
I inhale through my nostrils, then stand.
‘I am happy.’ My voice is stronger now. ‘I don’t like Cara, okay. I don’t like her. I’m looking to fix up her house, that’s all. Have a good day, you two.’
I turn to walk away, and the sight of the hurt in the brown eyes staring at me from the doorway stops my heart. Fuck.