The Somerset Girls

by Lori Foster

  Autumn was clearly more familiar when commiserating with him as friends, less so as a woman with a man. In the short time he’d been reunited with her, he’d gotten to know her better than any of the women he’d dated after his divorce. She fascinated him, in more ways than one.

  “Sadie’s probably trying to show you how useful she can be.”

  Was that something Autumn had done with her own family? The way she said it led him to think so.

  A deep breath didn’t ease his growing sexual tension. Hell, breathing her in only magnifed the things he felt. “I helped her make breakfast.”

  “Oh, genius!” Honestly pleased, she gave him a squeeze. “The two of you together.”

  He nodded. “Blueberry pancakes, because they seemed fun.”

  “You have great instincts.”

  Until he got her approval, he hadn’t realized how unsure he’d been. It was a novel feeling. Laughing at his own weakness—namely a little redheaded weakness with big blue eyes—he added, “I let her help sort the laundry, then thanked her so much she started giving me funny looks. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with her.” With Autumn now so near, he just naturally put his arm behind her—not quite an embrace, but close. “I flounder, and then I realize I’m offering her the moon, and that’s not good for a seven-year-old kid, either.”

  Voice soft, Autumn asked, “Like her room and the gym equipment in the backyard?”

  “We still want that, okay?” He knew Sadie was looking forward to the changes, even if she remained subdued about them. “Hiring you was a great idea.”

  Autumn nudged him playfully. “I think you’ve had many great ideas.”

  “A few,” he admitted. “I want her to be excited about something, instead of so damn skeptical all the time.”

  The way she looked up at him heightened his tension, but in a different, far more pleasant way. “Not that you asked for my advice—”

  “I’d like it.” Hell, she seemed to have a very calm, common-sense way about her. She wasn’t railing against Deb, which he appreciated, and she hadn’t tried to baby Sadie, which would have bothered his daughter a lot.

  “All right.” Her gentle tone softened the rebuke when she said, “You need to relax. Kids are more resilient than you realize. Sadie probably picks up on your worry, you know? If you’re second-guessing yourself, it’s going to stress her.”

  “Shit.” Trying to relieve his knotted muscles, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re probably right.” Easier said than done, though.

  “From what I’ve seen, you’re a terrific dad. Be natural with her and if she gets upset or misunderstands, explain things. Over and over again, if you have to. She knows you love her and that’s the most important part.”

  “The thing is, she knew Deb loved her, too. Sometimes love isn’t enough.” He’d found that out the hard way.

  “You’re right. Kids crave routines and boundaries that they can understand. If she wants chores, give her some that are age-appropriate, and maybe an allowance to go with it. Talk to her about future plans that include her. She can be your entire focus—”

  “She is.”

  “I know it,” she said, her eyes warm with understanding. “Sadie probably knows it, too, and that’s a lot of pressure, like everything hinges on her. For a kid, that would be scary. It might make her feel responsible for keeping things on track.”

  “Well, hell.” Not once had he ever considered that, yet now that she’d said it, he knew she was right. “I need to be the adult and let her be the kid.”

  “She needs to know you’re in charge, through the bumpy times and through the easy transitions, when she’s an angel and when she misbehaves.”

  Why hadn’t he thought of it?

  Again, she nudged him. “Parents are incredibly imperfect, and you don’t get to be any different.”

  “All parents, huh?”

  “Every single one. It’s called being human.”

  Somehow she made it all sound less awful. “I don’t want her to be afraid ever again.”

  “She’s smart, but still only a little girl. A lot of things have changed in her life lately, so, of course, she’s scared.”

  He looked out at Sadie, busy tossing seaweed at one of the boys, who tossed it right back. When it stuck to her hair, she cracked up...and so did they.

  “I’m glad she’s seeing what a nice place this is for us to live.”

  Though people walked around them, noisy with their conversations, splashing in the lake, laughing, he was easily able to tune them out. Sometime in the near future he’d like to return to this very spot with only Autumn and Sadie. They could have a picnic. The image in his mind had him smiling.

  She glanced at him curiously. “Are you happy here?”

  Light from the torch danced in her eyes and over her dark brown hair. It was longer now, unkempt in a natural and somehow sexy way.

  She looked tired, but he knew she wouldn’t say so. How he knew that, he couldn’t say—except that it felt like he’d known her forever, never mind that they hadn’t been close back in school.

  “Tash?”

  He doubted Autumn Somerset had any idea just how attractive she looked right now. He glanced down at her mouth...and then away.

  Noticing her damp lips wouldn’t be a smart move. Then again...too late. The longer he knew her, the more he noticed, and the more he liked what he saw.

  “I’m more comfortable here than I’ve been in a year.” In Sunset, Kentucky, he felt like he could actually breathe. “This is home, you know?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  When things had gotten rough, this was what he’d wanted. The familiar, and maybe the good memories, too. Autumn felt like the best part of Sunset...and he hadn’t even known her that well. “My parents retired to South Carolina not long after I moved away. For the longest time, there hadn’t been any reason to come back.” He looked toward Sadie, now making the summer equivalent of a snow angel, but in the wet sand. God, she was precious to him. “After Deb died, I knew Sadie and I needed a fresh start.”

  “So you came home. Smart.” She, too, looked toward his daughter. “You and I both know it’s a good place to grow up.”

  “Yeah.” Here on the beach, with the evening air encompassing them, he detected the light scent of floral shampoo, maybe lotion, and soft, warm woman. How long had it been since he’d noticed a woman? He wanted to lift Autumn’s hair, brush his nose along her throat, breathe her in and taste her skin. Voice a little husky, he said, “It feels right to be here.”

  “Autumn!” Waving energetically, a tall blonde woman started their way.

  Tash barely heard Autumn’s muffled groan before she plastered on a brittle smile and whispered to him, “Prepare yourself.”

  Taking his cues from her, he straightened when she did. They no longer sat so close and he already missed her touch.

  He didn’t think Autumn was prone to exaggeration, so as the woman closed in, he assumed this was about to be an unpleasant visit.

  “Patricia.” Autumn started to stand, but Patricia waved her back down and plopped on the towel in front of her, bringing along a lot of sand with her bare feet.

  “I couldn’t believe it was you! You never join the parties.”

  Autumn’s smile didn’t slip. “I’m here with Ember.”

  That made Patricia laugh. “Ember always joins in, and you never come with her.”

  “Sometimes I do.” Defensiveness kept her shoulders squared. “Just not very often.”

  With a snort, Patricia said, “It’s the first I’ve seen, especially since you-know-when.”

  What the hell? She made Autumn sound antisocial. Did that impression have to do with Autumn giving up on guys? And what was that you-know-when gibe? By the second, Tash’s interest grew. He wanted to know Autumn better, and maybe this tal
kative friend of hers could be a start.

  “So...” Patricia tilted her head toward Tash with a lot of suggestion. “Is this why you’re here?”

  “This,” Tash said, because of how she’d referred to him, “is a friend from high-school days. Autumn is doing some design work for my daughter’s room.” Keeping it simple seemed to be his best bet.

  “Daughter?” Patricia’s eyebrows shot nearly to her hairline, giving her a comical look. She took in the two of them sitting there together on the towel. In a titillated whisper, she asked, “So you’re married?”

  “Good grief, Patricia,” Autumn groused.

  “Well, is he?”

  The woman had a very annoying way of overemphasizing certain words. Rather than have Autumn put on the spot, Tash started to answer...but Autumn beat him to it.

  “Let’s back up, okay? Patricia Schaffer, meet Tash Ducker. Tash was two grades ahead of me back in school. He moved away for a while but now he’s back.” She turned to him. “Patricia isn’t from here, but she moved to Sunset about three years ago.”

  “A year before you were supposed to be married.” She poked out her bottom lip as if the reminder made her sad.

  She looked absurd, and then what she’d said hit him and Tash froze. Wait...what? Autumn was engaged?

  He looked at her and saw she’d turned into a stone statue. As if chipped into place, her smile remained.

  Patricia enthused, “Such a weird coincidence. I mean, you know he’s back, too, right?”

  “He?” Tash asked, because Autumn didn’t look interested in contributing.

  In a scandalized whisper, Patricia said, “Chuck Conning.”

  A recognizable name. Tash wracked his brain and pulled out what he could remember, which was mostly Chuck’s whiny attitude and penchant to blame others every time he screwed up.

  He gave Autumn a look, but no, he couldn’t reconcile the two of them together. Autumn and Chuck? Definitely not.

  Patricia leaned closer. “Two weeks before they were supposed to get married, Chuck ran off with Brenda Walker. Poof. Gone.” She looked back at Autumn, pouting again. “It was tragic.”

  And just like that, Autumn returned in full force. “Really, Patricia. I don’t know why you’re whispering.” She dusted sand away from her legs with a little too much force. “I’m sitting right here so it’s not like I won’t hear you. And,” she stressed, stealing Patricia’s habit, “there was nothing tragic about it.”

  Bravo, Tash wanted to say, absurdly proud of her, but Patricia wasn’t done yet.

  She touched Autumn’s hand, mock sympathy oozing from her. “I thought you should know he’s back.”

  “Why?”

  Confusion loosened Patricia’s jaw. “Why is he back?”

  Impatient, Autumn shook her head. “Why ever would you think I needed to know?”

  Tash was wondering the same damn thing.

  “Oh, honey. Because he broke your heart.”

  With a credible laugh, Autumn disabused her of that notion. “Not even close. Actually, he did me an enormous favor.”

  Incredibly dim, Patricia blinked at her. “But...how?”

  Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Tash said, “He showed his true colors before she leg-shackled herself to him. Marriage would have complicated things even more when she kicked his ass to the curb.”

  Looking at him in surprise, Autumn grinned. “So astute! Yes, much better before than after.”

  “But you’d spent all that money on the gown and the church and flowers—”

  Autumn flapped a hand. “Some lessons are costlier than others. Besides, I found out that I like ice cream a lot more than men.”

  “Ice cream?” Patricia repeated.

  Yeah, Tash was a little curious about that one, too.

  Ignoring Patricia, Autumn grinned at him. “Did you know there are ice-cream clubs? Because I didn’t, not until the whole debacle with Chuck.”

  “It was a debacle,” Patricia gushed, trying to rejoin the conversation.

  “No kidding.” Playing along, Tash ignored the twit, too. “Like you belong to a group?”

  “With a monthly subscription! How wonderful is that? Each month I get three pints of different flavors. The club emails me a tracking number so I’ll know when it’s arriving.”

  “Special flavors?”

  “Oh, my gosh, yes. They have watermelon, and apple strudel, and strawberry shortcake. My favorite is salted caramel.” She made mmm-mmm sounds, as if tasting it.

  Tash wanted to taste her.

  “Anyway,” Patricia said a little too loudly, “Chuck is back and I heard he and Brenda have split.” Clearly tickled by the prospect, she leaned in. “I heard he’s going to look you up!”

  With a dramatic groan, Autumn pretended to collapse.

  She dropped back...into Tash.

  Glad that she’d included him in her antics, he caught her with a laugh, and then held on, drawing her closer. It felt nice having her feminine weight soft against his side.

  “Did she faint?” Patricia asked with gleeful hope.

  “She,” Autumn said, opening her eyes and straightening, “is dying of ridiculousness.”

  Tash chuckled again. “Ridiculousness, huh?”

  “I have no interest in anything Chuck is or isn’t doing, and I’m sure he has no interest in seeing me. It’s dumb to suggest that he might.”

  Patricia stiffened. “Did you call me dumb?”

  “Hey.” Breathing a little fast, Ember showed up, standing close but not on the towel since she dripped lake water and sand covered her feet. She pushed back her wet hair and managed a cryptic smile. “I just noticed Patricia was here to...visit.”

  “Ember to the rescue,” Autumn mumbled as she moved away from his hold.

  Of course, Tash let her go—what else could he do? He didn’t want to. He wanted to pull her into his lap, hug her and tell her that her strength was sexy as hell. Not many could have handled that encounter with her humor and panache. Had Ember seen Patricia and, knowing the type of woman she was, come to assist her sister? If so, that’d be a nice gesture.

  Not that Autumn had needed help.

  “Aren’t you going to swim?” Ember asked Patricia.

  “Maybe later.” Glad for more of an audience, she went right back to her gossiping. “I was just telling Autumn—”

  “Here.” Ember reached past them and grabbed the wine coolers. “Have one. We’ll drink while you tell me about it.”

  “But I—”

  Ember caught her arm and practically hauled her to her feet. “I count on you to keep me informed.”

  “You do?” Patricia huddled closer to her. “Then let me tell you...” Heads together, they walked away.

  Impressed, Tash watched them go. “Well, that was smooth. And Patricia doesn’t seem to suspect a thing.”

  “Patricia is oblivious whenever it suits her.” Autumn brushed away the sand before straightening her legs. “She’s nice enough, but—”

  “She didn’t strike me as nice.” Pretty legs, he noticed. Shapely and not too thin. What would Autumn look like in a swimsuit? He wouldn’t mind finding out. “I’d say she borders on spiteful.”

  “She’s just self-absorbed and she loves to be in on everyone else’s private business.” Autumn huffed a short laugh. “Although, since everyone here knew what Chuck and Brenda did, it was never really private, anyway.”

  “I recognize Chuck’s name from high school, but not Brenda’s.”

  “She moved here after you left town.” Drawing a fingertip through the sand, Autumn sighed. “Soon as Chuck met her, I should have known there’d be trouble.”

  “Made it obvious, huh?”

  Pretending it didn’t matter, she shrugged. “He denied it whenever I asked, and I stupidly believed him.”
>
  “You were in love?”

  “Thought I was at the time.” Nose scrunched, mouth tweaked to the side, she downplayed her feelings. “Later I realized that I just liked the idea of being in love. Marriage and family and growing old together. That all sounded nice.” She looked up at the sky. “Nice enough to marry Chuck. I meant it when I said he did me a favor. I’ll forever be grateful that I didn’t get financially tied to him.”

  Yeah, at the moment he was pretty damn glad she didn’t, too. “When I married Deb, all that sounded nice to me, too, so I get it. The idea of sharing everything with someone...”

  “Now I realize it has to be the right someone.”

  Very true. “Ember knew what was going on? I mean, with Patricia.”

  “She probably saw her with me and, knowing her as she does, assumed, or she... I don’t know. She just knew.”

  It surprised him when Autumn leaned back to her elbows, her gaze remaining on the gray velvet sky overhead. It was a provocative pose, though he suspected she had no idea. Even when ditzy women weren’t bombarding her with mean-spirited gossip, she seemed remarkably unaware of her sex appeal.

  He wondered now if Chuck, the ass, had something to do with that. Had he damaged her self-esteem?

  Hating that thought, Tash went to one elbow and braced on his side next to her. He watched Autumn, felt her introspection, and badly wanted to touch her. “Ember just knew?”

  “Remember, we grew up together.” Her gaze slanted his way. “She can look at me and tell something is wrong—same as I can with her.”

  “No shit?”

  A silly smile played over her very kissable mouth. “No shit. Sometimes it’s nice, other times it’s intrusive. That’s how it is with family.”

  “Mind if I ask you something.”

  Dread made her tighten, but she shrugged again.

  “Is that why you’re here? You were worried about Ember so you came along?”

  For the longest time, Autumn stared at him as if trying to figure out a puzzle.