by Lori Foster
She never made those suggestions in front of children, because it was the parents who understood and would adhere to a budget.
She’d left Tash’s house well behind schedule and spent the rest of the day running late for appointments. She got home well past her usual time, so it was a good thing Ember had tended to all the animals and checked on their parents. Autumn crashed in her bed a little after ten and only managed to read two chapters before she got too sleepy to concentrate.
She nodded off thinking about Tash. The way he’d touched her, along with the evidence that he was such a great dad, proved to be a powerful combo of physical and emotional appeal.
The man was more enticing than Rocky Road ice cream, and damn it, that scared her a little...in a very exciting way.
Chapter Three
That next Saturday, after working all morning on the farm, taking her parents to appointments in the afternoon and rescuing a turkey that some a-hole wanted to shoot, Autumn was entirely tuckered out.
A heat wave had affected the area, making everyone—her included—more listless. Her work was often dirty and, yes, regardless of her sister’s wishes, she perspired. With the temps in the midnineties and oppressive humidity, she knew she wasn’t the only one.
As she walked through the house on her way to the laundry room, she peeled off her suffocating clothes. The kiss of air-conditioning on her skin helped revive her, but only a little. Once she dropped her rumpled load onto the utility-room floor with the rest of the clothes, the heap nearly reached her knees.
A day off to catch up on chores would be nice, but she wouldn’t get that until next weekend.
Sighing, she eyed the growing pile with apology. “Don’t complain,” she told the laundry. “No one is doing me, either.” She snickered at her joke. The laundry did not.
After kicking away a sock, she dragged her tired body into the shower. Pavlov, who was indeed fickle, had decided to stay with her parents for the night, so she got into a sleep shirt and crawled into bed alone.
Just her, her Karen Rose book and lots of bone-chilling tension.
She was so deep into the story, her heart racing, that when her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Pressing one hand to her chest to contain her heart, she grabbed the phone with the other. Ember. Immediately thinking the worst, she swiped the screen and answered, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Jeez, can’t one sister call another without you thinking the world is ending?”
“No. Not in the evening.” With regret, she closed the book and sat up. “So, um, what’s up?”
“I’m sitting on your stoop. Put on your swimsuit and come join me. We’re going to the lake.”
Her jaw loosened. Okay, so a glance at the clock showed it was only nine. Tiredness pulled at her, and the book wouldn’t read itself. “Sorry, sis, but I’m in for the night.”
“No, you’re not. Stop being a party pooper. Other people are there swimming. This awful heat inspired an impromptu party and I want to go, but I don’t want to go alone.”
Not buying it, Autumn said, “You could seriously call any of a dozen guys and get a date.” Heck, Ember had probably already turned down a few guys. That’s likely how she heard about the party.
“I don’t want a date. I want my sister.”
The muted distress in her tone alerted Autumn. A year ago, Ember had gone through a heart-crushing difficulty, and there were days when it all came back. Cautiously, Autumn asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Now get your granny butt out of the bed and come join me.”
Did she really think insults would win her over? Not likely. Still, the worry didn’t let up. “Ember—”
“Fine. Forget I asked. I should have known better.”
Yes, she should have. Ember was the free spirit, after all. Autumn liked to put her big bones to bed early. “Listen, it’s just—”
Again, Ember cut her off. “No big deal. If you need me, I’ll be at the lake having fun with real people instead of book characters. Later, gator.”
The call ended, and damn it, now she was alert and concerned and she knew it was impossible to turn that crap off. If she didn’t check on Ember, she’d fret for hours.
Never mind that her book characters were far more likable than most people she actually knew, Autumn grumbled her way out of bed, and then rummaged in a drawer to find some cut-off shorts usually worn when she fed the animals in the morning. She thought about a bra, but in the heat, that’d be miserable. The sleep shirt was oversized and loose enough that nothing vital showed.
If Ember was down, she wanted to support her, to help her through the memories. Differences aside, that’s how sisters worked.
Shoving her feet into flip-flops and doing a quick finger-comb of her hair, she grabbed her phone and keys and headed through the house for the door.
She’d go to the stupid lake, find Ember to ensure she was all right, and then she would return to reading comfortably in her bed. It’d be an hour’s interruption, maybe two. Totally doable.
Fueled by indignation, Autumn jerked open the door and almost plowed into Ember, who leaned patiently against the wall beneath the porch light.
Grinning at her, her sister said, “Wow, you’re fast. I thought I’d be waiting at least ten minutes more.” Ember latched on to her arm so Autumn couldn’t backtrack. “Come on. My car is idling so we can cool off on the way over.”
She’d been duped! But, hey, at least Ember wasn’t crying...yet. It relieved Autumn to see her sis smiling at her, even though she also noted the shadows in her eyes.
It wasn’t that Autumn gave in gracefully, but she did give in. Ember might act like nothing was wrong, but Autumn knew her well, so she saw all the emotions Ember tried so hard to hard.
Playing her role—because Ember hated pity—Autumn said, “An hour. That’s all.”
“Sure, sis. Whatever you say.”
While seating herself, Autumn noticed the wine coolers and chips in the back seat. “What’s all that?”
“Snacks for the party. I brought your share, too.” She pulled away from the house, saying, “You owe me ten bucks.”
Great. At least Ember’s car was cool. She still hadn’t fixed the air-conditioning in her truck. Putting her head back and closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the blooming headache.
“Autumn? Thanks for going with me. Really, it’ll be fun, I promise.”
Lazily turning her head toward Ember, she said softly, “Fess up.”
“About what?”
That careless attitude didn’t pass muster, so Autumn just waited.
It took a full minute, and then Ember swallowed heavily. “The house I worked on today? The parents had two little kids.” Inhaling a tight breath, she whispered, “One was a newborn boy.”
Knowing how shattering that still was for Ember, Autumn reached over and put her hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been a year.” Ember’s voice cracked just a little. “A whole freaking year and it still...” She went silent, her breath strained.
“You loved him. From the moment you knew you were pregnant, you planned a life around him.” Miscarrying two months into her pregnancy had done more than devastate Ember—it had changed her. “Reminders might always be difficult.”
“Sometimes,” Ember said, her tone stark with sadness, “I still feel empty.”
And so she filled herself up with parties and more men who didn’t matter and a lighthearted attitude meant to hide the hurt. “I know,” Autumn answered softly. “I wish there was something I could do.”
With a shaky laugh, Ember swiped away a lone tear that tracked down her cheek. “You’re here. That’s enough.”
Forget an hour. She’d stay out all night with Ember if it’d help.
“You
know, I sometimes wonder where you came from.” Ember went over the railroad tracks without a delay. “I mean, Mom’s as flighty as they come, Dad only thinks about Mom and I’m...well, I’m not responsible like you.”
“Bull. You put in the same hours I do and contribute every bit as much time to the farm and the animals.”
“I try.” She went quiet again. “But I haven’t even asked you how it’s going with Tash.”
They’d both been so busy the past week, they’d barely seen each other. Only the morning after her first visit with Tash had they talked, and it had been brief. At that time, Autumn had assured her all went well and Ember had teased her about Tash being her crush.
Same old, same old.
Since Ember hadn’t asked again, Autumn hadn’t brought it up. She hadn’t realized that a newborn at the job site had caused Ember to withdraw into her own thoughts, and now Autumn felt guilty.
Because she’d been stuck in her own head, too.
“I knew Tash had a daughter,” Ember said. “And she looked so shy, I had a feeling you’d be good for her.”
“Shy isn’t really the word. More like watchful.” Autumn pictured Sadie in her mind, with her long red hair and huge blue eyes and that contagious smile. The girl was a heartbreaker without even trying. “I’m not sure what’s going on there, but I know her mother passed away. That’s why she’s living full-time with Tash now.” She took a moment to explain about the car crash, and Tash’s concerns.
“Does he seem like a good dad?”
“Absolutely.” Because it was more complicated than that simple answer, Autumn gave it some thought. “I’m pretty sure his main goal right now is making his little girl’s life secure.”
“That’s even better than being gorgeous and gainfully employed.” Marking a scorecard in the air, Ember said emphatically, “Good dad.”
“Yes.”
“You two would be great together.”
“Whoa.” That was so absurd, Autumn snorted. “Did you miss the part about his focus being on his daughter?”
“Nope. In case you didn’t know, men can multitask same as women. Besides, you wouldn’t be attracted to a guy who didn’t make his kid a top priority.”
“Neither would you,” Autumn reminded her. That, too, was personal for Ember. She’d faced her accidental pregnancy alone since the guy hadn’t been interested—and that made Ember also disinterested in him. Granted, she hadn’t been that into him, anyway, but still...
Rewinding, Ember said, “That part of you being so responsible? I mean it, and tonight is a perfect example. If you called me, would I switch plans for you?”
“I like to think you would.”
Tone flattened, Ember said, “Odds are we’ll never know, because you don’t do lame stuff like this.”
No, she retreated to her room to read. Alone. Adding in a note of lofty humor, Autumn stated, “We’re different but equally awesome people.”
“Hell, yeah.” Steering one-handed, Ember held up her palm for a high five.
Lame, but Autumn indulged her. She liked this mood so much better than the melancholy.
Up ahead, they could see a few torches lighting up the sandy shore of Sunset Lake. Music mingled with laughter while dozens of people enjoyed the night air—single men and women, families with their kids, even a few of the elders in lawn chairs.
It was the number-one thing Autumn loved about her home—the close community.
At times, it was also the thing she disliked most. A close community could be helpful and kind, but nosy and judgmental, too.
Definitely a double-edged sword.
Ember parked on the grass next to a row of cars and trucks. Seeing the crowd gave Autumn second thoughts. “I should have worn a bra.”
Laughing, Ember got the stuff from the back seat. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it—and sis, you’ve got it.”
Yeah... Autumn wasn’t so sure about that.
“Besides,” Ember continued, as they got out of the car, “nearly everyone is in a swimsuit. In comparison, you’re modest.”
Looking down at herself, she was grateful nothing showed. She’d just avoid getting too close to the light. “You’re not wearing a swimsuit.”
“Sure I am. It’s under my cover-up.” Hooking her arm through Autumn’s, she tugged her forward. “Come on.”
The shore of the lake wasn’t naturally sandy, but the county periodically replenished the sand in two specific areas so everyone could swim without getting muddy. Weather-worn gazebos sat at either end of the recreational area, and midway out on the water, buoys designated the safe-swim area, where boats couldn’t intrude.
Autumn loved it here, with the sound of the waves gently lapping the shoreline, the smell of the lake water and all the trees, even the feel of the sand beneath her feet. For most of her life, though, she’d avoided it, or only come to visit during quiet nights, when no one was likely to notice her.
She wasn’t comfortable in a bathing suit and didn’t interact easily with others.
Ember, however, had always been in her element here. She had no problem stripping down to a bikini, and seemed to be close friends with everyone.
“Oh, look, Mike is here.”
Suspicion had her giving Ember closer scrutiny, but her sister was so busy waving to every other man there, Autumn couldn’t quite read her expression. Why point out Mike only to ignore him?
It didn’t last long because Mike jogged over to them. Barefoot, shirtless and wearing only board shorts, he looked scrumptious and she was pretty sure Ember had to notice.
Autumn greeted him with a grin. “You’ve been swimming.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head, sending water droplets to spray them. “It’s good to see you get out a little.”
“Ember coerced me.”
“And look,” Ember said. “You’re smiling.” She thrust the wine coolers at Mike, who almost dropped them, and then—right there, on the spot—she peeled off her cover-up and handed it to Autumn.
Because she was braless, Autumn folded it against her chest and held it within her crossed arms.
Mike made no pretense of looking at Ember in her itty-bitty white bikini. And why should he? Autumn could be biased, but she thought Ember looked better than any other woman there.
She’d always considered confidence to be supersexy in men and women alike, and her sister had the body and the personality that warranted confidence.
“Get in the lake,” Mike suggested to Ember with a smile, “and you’ll warm that water up a few degrees more.” Then he shocked Autumn and Ember both by turning away. “Where do you want your stuff, Autumn?”
Aware of Ember’s disgruntled retreat, Autumn said, “Oh, um...” Abandoned, she wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“How about over here?” Seeming in a hurry to ditch her, Mike headed toward one of the torches.
That’s when she spotted Tash. Talk about scrumptious.
Sprawled over a large towel, resting back on his elbows, he smiled. Autumn followed his line of vision and realized his attention was on his daughter.
So endearing. The love he felt showed in his gaze, gave him a warm smile, and she couldn’t be immune to it.
Wearing a life preserver over her bathing suit, Sadie sat on the very edge of the shore, where the water just reached her bottom and legs. Two boys had buckets and shovels, and together they were building sandcastles.
Even though the boys looked a few years older, Sadie was clearly in charge.
Tash looked up when she and Mike stopped beside him, and his smile brightened. “Autumn.” He immediately stood. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Mike looked back and forth between them, and a calculating grin formed. “Probably because her sister dragged her along.” He peered out at the water, then turned back again to ask, “Mind if I drop he
r stuff here?”
“No problem.” Tash quickly brushed sand off the towel.
“Thanks.” Putting everything behind the towel where Tash had unlaced running shoes and a cooler, Mike said, “Now you kids behave...or not.” He headed back to the lake while Autumn stood there trying to figure out what to do.
Towering over her, windblown and gorgeous and smelling like sunshine, Tash smiled. “There’s room if you want to take a seat.”
Being unloaded on him made Autumn ridiculously self-conscious. She could just mosey away, much as Ember had. Though she wasn’t great at mingling, there were people here that she knew. Or she could walk along the shore, enjoy the air—
“Autumn.” Smile widening, he bent his knees to look into her eyes. “You don’t want to join me?”
Want? Yes. She wanted that. Would she? It didn’t feel right. “It seems like I’m always imposing on you. Dinner, picnics and now this. I promise, it’s not a problem for me to find another place to—”
“I’d rather you stay.” Her heart took a leap, until he added, “You’re a familiar face.”
Ah, familiarity. No reason for her unruly heart to get excited. Too bad it already made her a bit breathless. Trying to sound blasé, she said, “You grew up here.”
“Ages ago, but other than the Johnsons over there, I don’t think I knew any of these people very well.”
The Johnsons were part of the elderly group, and they’d been in the area forever. “You used to cut grass for them, didn’t you?”
“For damn near everyone.” He gestured for her to sit, waited until she finally did before joining her. To stay out of the sand, he sat close, his hip nearly touching hers. Drawing up his knees, he rested his arms over them. “I had one hell of a business going until college.”
Seeing him this relaxed did funny things to her. “I remember.” Autumn did what she could to stay covered. The big shirt helped, and now she draped Ember’s cover-up over her lap to sit yoga-style, turning slightly away so her leg wouldn’t overlap his. The cover-up almost entirely hid her bare legs. “My sister used to beg our folks to hire you to cut the grass, but they insisted we do it. It was one of her most hated chores.” Her smile went crooked at the memory. “She got even by wearing a halter on the rider and when guys started driving by just to whistle at her, Dad gave up.”