by Lori Foster
Having no idea why, he lifted an eyebrow. “Problem?”
“You’re not going to grill me about Chuck, are you?”
Ah, so she was used to everyone carrying on like Patricia had? It pleased him to disappoint her on that assumption. “I wasn’t impressed with him as a kid, and now, as a man, he sounds about as smart and honorable as a gnat—meaning not very important, so why bother?”
The puzzlement morphed into humor. “A gnat?”
“Should I have said complete dumb-ass?” Liking the way she smiled, how it added a dimple to her cheek and a glimmer to her eyes, he stuck with his theme. “For the record, I’m censoring for your benefit. Dumb-ass is as nice as I can get. If we continue this conversation, the insults will get more colorful.” He smoothed back a silky hank of her hair, tucking it behind one ear. “Maybe not appropriate to these delicate little ears.”
Her smile widened—a really beautiful smile, he noticed. “Delicate ears?”
“Cute ears. Ears that inspire me.” Ears he wanted to nibble. He leaned down to breathe close, “Should I bring out my ugliest descriptions?”
Feeling her shiver, he smiled and leaned away.
Covering her reaction, Autumn cleared her throat. “My delicate ears are twitching to hear them, but you probably shouldn’t.” She gave an exaggerated, furtive glance around. “Too many people might overhear.”
“Who cares? If they know good old Chuck, I’m sure they already think the same.”
“You’d be surprised. Most think he’s a great guy. They probably assume there’s something wrong with me.” Once the words left her mouth, she looked horrified that she’d said them and followed up with, “Not that I care what they think.”
Of course she did. The urge to protect her, to shield her from the ugliness of ruthless gossip, burned through his bloodstream. “Was someone stupid enough to say that to you?”
She took in his annoyance, and another smile twitched into place. “No, but I know how this town thinks. If you stay—and I hope you do—you’re going to hear all sorts of things. Chuck dumping me was the juiciest bit of gossip Sunset has had in a very long time.”
“Meaning not much happens around here, so they have to make the most of what a dumb-ass does?”
“Meaning half the town was involved in that stupid wedding in one way or another.” She scrunched her nose again. “Chuck wanted a big wedding with all his friends, and I chose to use only local vendors, so everyone knew every damn thing about the wedding.”
“Ouch.” That had to smart. He remembered how he’d felt when his marriage fell apart. They’d largely kept it private, not in the spotlight of an entire town, so his situation was only a fraction of what she must’ve gone through. Because she hadn’t buckled, hadn’t run away from it all, his respect for her increased tenfold.
And she could still deal with the likes of Patricia. Amazing.
“Mostly everyone was nice about it. Sometimes too nice, if you know what I mean.”
By the minute he understood Autumn, maybe better than he’d ever understood Deb, so he could easily guess how she’d reacted. “You didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for you.”
Her soft sigh said a lot. “But they did, and I hated the pity most of all.”
“Will it bother you if he’s back around?”
“It’d bother me if he stole my ice cream.” She flashed a cheeky grin, but it slipped away as she grew serious. “If he really is here, it’s going to be a little embarrassing. You already saw that it’ll stir up the past. But I don’t have any feelings left, not for him, not for what happened. Chuck is history. I got over him long ago.”
So strong. He had a feeling Autumn would face any situation with guts and pride and a good dose of kindness and understanding for those who didn’t give her the same. She wasn’t a vindictive person, and she allowed others a lot of leeway for human error, as he’d witnessed with Patricia.
He admired her and her poise.
Also admired her legs, and her lips, her skin and hair...
Without meaning to, Tash found himself brushing the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. Softness, warmth...
Cravings he hadn’t felt in far too long suddenly surged to the surface. He hadn’t realized how he’d missed this type of connection, but it seemed natural, even right, with Autumn. “You’re sure about that?” The silkiness of her skin put his awareness on the razor’s edge. “No residual feelings for Chuck?”
A mix of surprise, uncertainty and something close to yearning kept her still.
Maybe she enjoyed the contact as much as he did.
Briefly, she leaned into his hand. His palm opened to cradle her cheek while his heartbeat slowed, went heavy. Lust. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like, but he felt it now in spades.
From a simple touch and shared conversation.
“Our family was still reeling over my mess when...” Hesitation gripped her and she cut herself off. Slowly sitting up, she pushed back her hair, and seemed to wage an internal battle.
Left holding air, Tash rose to sit beside her. He didn’t know the problem, but he knew he didn’t like seeing her this way. “I overstepped again?” And now she’d retreated. He should apologize, but damn, he wasn’t sorry. In fact, he suddenly wanted to do more than stroke her skin. A lot more.
“It’s not that,” she promised.
“No?”
“Talking with you has been nice.” She searched his face. “Really nice, actually.”
“For me, too.” Even now, he wanted to put his mouth on hers, lick over her lips, taste her...yet Autumn seemed oblivious to the chemistry arcing between them.
Probably for the best.
She was a good listener, and she gave excellent advice. He felt connected to her in various ways—through the history of the town and their school years, sure; as a man to an attractive woman, most definitely.
But also on a more elemental level, one he couldn’t quite identify because he didn’t think he’d ever experienced it before.
The last thing he wanted to do was muck it up. She’d said she was done with men—hell, she preferred ice cream now. He had to remember that.
“Have I ruined the evening?”
“No, of course not. I’ve had a wonderful time.”
A wonderful time? By worrying about her sister, listening to his concerns and being assaulted by a nosy friend? Yeah, a laugh a minute. Given a chance, he’d show her what a good time should be. Except, she wasn’t interested, and he had a seven-year-old daughter still adjusting.
Now was definitely not the time to start something.
Autumn drew him from those thoughts when she said, “Before, when I froze up, it wasn’t you.” She examined a fingernail. “It’s just that I started to share something private, and not mine to tell.” Biting her lip, she glanced at him. “I’ve never done that before. Slipped up and almost told things I shouldn’t, so I think it’s you. You’re just too easy to talk to.”
Well, that was something. “You don’t need to confirm or deny, but I’m going to guess it’s something to do with Ember, and she’s still struggling with it.” To keep from touching her again, he folded his arms over his knees. “It’s pretty terrific that you’re here for her.”
“We’re sisters,” she said simply.
And that explained it all? Being an only child, he couldn’t say for sure what siblings did, but he knew he’d do anything for Sadie.
“Dad.”
Jolted, Tash looked up to see Sadie braced between the two boys, favoring her right foot. He knew her different tones, and in that single word he’d heard both worry and pain. Standing in a rush, he realized he hadn’t checked on her for...oh, ten minutes or more, and now something had happened.
Chapter Five
Meeting Sadie halfway, he quickly looked her over from head to toe.
&
nbsp; The look in her eyes, like fear of repercussions more than injury, nearly broke his heart. Hiding his frustration, he kneeled down and gently asked, “You’re hurt?”
“Just a little.” Sidestepping that, she said, “Hey, Autumn. I didn’t know you were here.”
How like her to try to tough it out. For a seven-year-old, she never ceased to amaze him.
Of course, Autumn handled it perfectly.
“Because you were too busy having fun to notice me. Nothing wrong with that.” She came up to her knees. “You hurt your foot?”
One of the boys looked at him, seemed to burst and words poured out. “We were playing, right where you told her to stay. It was just a game of catch around the castle, but she cut her foot on something and it’s bleeding!”
“So I see.” Tash kept his tone deliberately calm as he noticed the blood on the sand.
“I told you I’m okay,” Sadie insisted, wincing only a little.
“Let’s make this easier, okay?” Tash reached out for her, and the boys stepped away. He scooped her up, hugging her to his heart as he came back to his feet and carried her closer to the torch so he could better see.
His petite daughter weighed next to nothing, but the bulky life preserver made her an awkward bundle.
He heard Autumn reassuring the boys. “Thanks for helping her over, guys. Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know how she did it,” the other kid said, his tone defensive. “We were just in the sand.”
“A broken shell,” Sadie explained with obvious exasperation. “I stepped on the stupid thing.”
“Hold still, sweetheart.” Tash put her on the towel where he’d been sitting, then dumped his cell phone out of one of his shoes. He used the glow of the screen to look at her foot.
Autumn touched his shoulder. “There’s a first-aid kit in Ember’s car. I’m sure we have a bandage or two. Want me to get it?”
The arch of Sadie’s foot continued to drip blood through an open cut about an inch long. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Be right back.” She took off in a loping run that briefly drew his attention.
“I’m making a mess on the towel.”
“We have other towels.” If he’d been watching her more closely...what? He wanted her to play with other kids. He wanted her to run around and laugh. Logically, he knew kids sometimes got hurt. “She’s fine, boys, I promise. No one’s fault, just an accident.”
The tense boys relaxed marginally, staring at her foot in macabre horror.
“Where’s that shell now?” he asked as he helped Sadie take off the life jacket.
“Here.” She opened her palm to show half a mussel shell with a broken edge. “Wish I’d found it with my hands instead of my foot.”
For her benefit, he gave a brief smile. “It’s a beauty. Did you want to keep it?”
When she nodded, he put it in his pocket. “We’ll find a special place for it. The shell that brought Sadie Ducker low.”
His joke fell flat, only earning the tiniest smile from her.
Autumn returned, coming down beside them with a compact kit. “Here’s a pretreated swab.” She handed the small square to him.
As gently as he could, Tash cleaned away the blood. Sadie, hurt but stoic, didn’t make a sound. The two boys, who’d crowded close to see, seemed to be in agony.
When Sadie’s lip quivered, Autumn began to usher them away. “Let’s give Sadie and her dad enough room to see, okay, guys? In fact, you better let your parents know where you are. If they don’t see you, they might worry.”
Reluctantly, they turned to go. “We’ll see you soon, Sadie,” one boy said.
The other chimed in, “I hope you don’t need stitches.” Together, they ran off.
Silence fell around them while Tash concentrated on cleaning away the sand and blood as carefully as he could.
He was just about done when Sadie mumbled, “I didn’t mean to, Dad.”
Her small voice brought his head up quickly. She appeared very uncertain with his concentrated attention. Smiling wide enough to blind her, he lifted her foot to kiss her toes. “I know that, goose. I’m just sorry you’re hurt.”
“I don’t need stitches, okay?” Worry added a tremble to her tone.
“I can’t tell how deep it is, but I think—” His attempt to reassure her never made it out.
“No.” Courage shriveling, she tried to jerk away her foot.
“Hey, easy.” Given her reaction, worry surfaced. “I don’t think it’s much deeper than a scratch.” Another smile, and this one pained him. He smoothed back her tangled hair. “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, okay?”
She nodded, but her voice trembled when she said again, “I don’t want stitches.”
With perfect timing, Autumn moved in closer until her hip touched his. “Is she up on her shots?”
“Yeah.” Once they’d settled in, he’d collected her medical records and found a local pediatrician. “Tetanus, too.”
“Then for tonight at least, I think it’d be safe to wash it well—maybe in a bubble bath?”
Hoping that would boost Sadie’s mood, Tash said, “Sure, we could do that, couldn’t we, goose? We still have half a bottle of that tutti-frutti bubble bath we bought last week.”
She nodded.
“Once it’s good and clean,” Autumn said in a no-nonsense voice, “put on some antibiotic ointment and a bandage.” She smiled at Sadie. “In the morning, if it starts to look red or feels hot, you’ll need to get it checked, okay? Otherwise, I don’t think it’s serious. Look, the bleeding has already stopped.”
Eyes a little wide, Sadie asked, “Are you a doctor, too?”
Autumn’s laugh was sweet and further helped to lighten the mood. “No, but working on a farm means one of us is always banged-up somehow. I know what to look for. Stitches are only used to stop the bleeding or to make it look prettier. Your feet are cute enough that one little scratch won’t matter.” She sat cross-legged again and did her own quick inspection of the wound. “All in all, that doesn’t look too bad, right?”
Bending herself like a pretzel, Sadie peered at her foot. “Right.” She shot Tash a guarded look. “No stitches, okay?”
It made him numb with grief, seeing that level of caution. What the hell had Deb put her through? What did she think would happen?
Trying to sound as cheerful as Autumn had, he said, “At least I can wrap it pretty.” He put a small wad of gauze on the wound and held it in place with tape that he tied in a bow. “Ta-da.”
Sadie cracked a genuine smile.
Autumn said, “So cute!”
He kissed each of Sadie’s toes, then shook out another towel. “Doesn’t look like it’d be necessary, but in case it ever happens again, you need to know that stitches don’t hurt.”
“He’s right.” Conspiratorial, Autumn whispered, “I got some on my behind.”
For a moment, that threw Tash. He held out the towel, but didn’t do anything with it. His daughter looked equally surprised.
“I was climbing over a fence on the farm,” Autumn confided, “and my backside found a loosened nail...as I was sliding over to the other side.” She flinched as if in remembered pain. “Trust me, that hurt, but the stitches were a piece of cake.”
Casual as you please, Sadie said, “Mine hurt.”
Tash wrapped the towel around her. “You’ve never had stitches, honey.”
“Did, too.” She ducked her face and whispered, “It was a secret.”
Like a slap to the face, her disclosure stunned him. Damn Deb for asking a child to keep secrets from her father.
Never would he let her feel his rage, so he carried on as if she hadn’t just divulged an awful deception that ripped out his guts. “Well, now I know, right?” He kept a smile pinned in place. “H
ow did you get hurt?”
“I was cutting up an apple.” Eyes downcast, she whispered, “I cried a lot.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Tash drew her into his lap and kissed her forehead.
She peeked up at him, swallowed and said, “One of Mom’s boyfriends was a nurse, and he gave me stitches.”
One of Mom’s boyfriends. Toward the end, Deb had a different guy every month, or so it had seemed. He hadn’t liked it, but saying so had only led to arguments, followed by him losing time with Sadie.
He only missed a single beat before he asked, “You cut your finger?”
She held up her right hand. “This one.”
Of course, he and Autumn both looked...and saw the short, jagged scar on Sadie’s tiny ring finger, between her first and second knuckle.
Autumn gently rubbed her little hand and asked, “So you went to a hospital?”
She shook her head.
“Ah, a doctor’s office then?”
“No.”
Stymied, Autumn asked, “Where did he stitch you up?”
Watching Tash, Sadie whispered, “In the kitchen.” And after a swallow, she added, “But I’m not supposed to tell that, either.”
* * *
Though he mostly hid it, Autumn saw Tash’s devastation. He did great with Sadie, hiding his anger, but this—this was just awful.
Standing, she looked for Ember. Her sister was busy pushing Patricia into a group of other people. Damn it. She needed—
As if sensing her stare, Ember glanced up, took one look at her and immediately excused herself from the group to jog toward them.
Guys looked. Ember jogging in a bikini? Yeah, even women admired her. Autumn certainly did.
Sounding more lighthearted than she felt, Autumn said, “Look, my sister is heading this way again. She’s the one who’ll build your pirate ship in the backyard.”
Sadie said, “We met her at the grocery.”
Before Ember reached them, Autumn asked, “Would you two like to see the farm? I’ll have time tomorrow.” She’d make time so she could ensure father and daughter were both okay. “I could show you around, let Sadie pet the animals and feed the chickens. What do you think?”