by Lori Foster
“Mom,” Autumn implored, “let her breathe.”
“She’s just too precious,” the woman said and finally loosened her hold to address Sadie. “You look like a sunset over the ocean. So very colorful.”
Pained, Autumn hissed, “Mom.”
Sadie laughed and wiggled loose.
“Oh.” Suddenly twitching her nose, her mother retreated in distaste. “You’ve been playing with the animals, haven’t you, dear?”
Sadie gave a resounding “Yes!” Then added, “Dad rolled around on the ground with them. It was lots of fun.”
“Oh, really?” Her mother gave him another glance, this one not so favorable.
Leaning in, Sadie whispered, “They knocked him over but he didn’t get mad, even when me and Autumn laughed and laughed.”
Smile indulgent, the woman patted Sadie’s head. “I would have laughed, as well.” Turning back to Tash, she stuck out a hand. “Since my daughter has forgotten her manners, I’ll introduce myself.”
Autumn sputtered. “You didn’t give me a chance!”
“I’m Tracy.” She pumped his hand with no end in sight. “I remember you as Tash, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He closed his other hand over hers, gave a gentle squeeze and freed himself, then drew Sadie to his side. “This is my daughter, Sadie.”
“Your hair and those eyes.” In dramatic affectation, Tracy placed the back of her hand to her forehead. “I would just die to draw you. Maybe in the sunlight, because it brings out all the red.” Again she eyed Tash. “Is your wife a redhead?”
“I’m not married.” His smile felt forced, but he got it out there. “Sadie’s great-grandmother had red hair.”
“Mom,” Autumn interjected to ensure she couldn’t continue her questions. “Maybe we should go inside and meet Dad, too?”
From the doorway, in a motorized wheelchair, her father said, “I’m joinin’ you outside.”
Tash noticed a slight slur and saw the effects of the stroke. Autumn’s mother looked to be in her early sixties, but her father had to be seventy, and looked even older with his ailment. Gray hair stuck out in disarray around an expanding bald spot.
He wasn’t a frail man, which surprised Tash as he watched him buzz his chair forward.
When he got close, he patted his wife on the butt, making her jump, and then reached out a shaking left hand to Tash. “Nice to see ya’ ’gain, son.”
“You, too, Mr. Somerset. I like your home.”
“Call me Flynn.” He wheeled around to look at the house. “Girls did a goo’ job.”
“Ember built it, you know,” Tracy said with puffed-up pride. “She’s so incredibly talented. She got her love of carpentry from Flynn and her free spirit from me.”
Aware of Autumn standing behind her mother, miming her every word, Tash frowned, until Tracy added, “God bless her, Autumn inherited my big bones.”
And with that, Autumn rolled her eyes, as if she’d heard those lines a million times in her life.
Tash saw zero resemblance. “Autumn’s beautiful,” he said, meaning it, needing her to hear it, “so I think you just complimented yourself.” His smile kept it from sounding like an insult. He hoped.
“Oh.” Tracy giggled with girlish delight. “She has more the look of her father...well, except for the bones.” Hands on her wide hips, she posed as if to show off her attributes. “Here’s what our girl will look like at sixty. Drink it in.”
Tash choked.
Autumn went beet-red.
“They’re both beauties, eh?” With a crooked grin, Flynn reached for his wife’s behind again.
Tracy dodged him.
“The diff’rence,” Flynn said, “is that my Autumn’s a worker, always busy. Stays in shape.”
Tracy turned her cannon on him. “You don’t think I’m in shape?”
“Love yer shape.” He gave a crooked, somehow leering grin. “But the most you lift is a lump of clay.”
“Well...” Tracy’s huff turned into a laugh. “I suppose that’s true. You won’t see me hefting pigs or clearing rocks or mucking out stalls.”
So Autumn did all that? “I thought Mike—”
“He helps,” Autumn said, then shrugged. “But there’s always a million things to do and one pair of hands won’t cover it all.”
Dismissing all that, Tracy waved her hand at the house. “Let’s go inside. I can show you my art.”
Her pale throat working with a heavy swallow, Autumn closed her eyes.
“Have a little faith,” he whispered to her. How bad could the art be? Then to Tracy, he added, “I’d love to see it.” And he wanted to see the house Autumn had designed. “Lead the way.”
“Wonderful!” Tracy swished and swayed with Flynn rolling along close behind her, blatantly admiring the view.
“She does that for his benefit,” Autumn whispered. “They’ve always carried on, but now Mom uses his stroke as an excuse to be extra outrageous, saying it gives him something to live for.”
Tash snickered. “She may be right.”
Smiling up at him, Sadie slipped her hand into his. “They’re funny, huh?”
“That they are.” Even hot and sweaty and, yeah, maybe smelling a little like pigs, Sadie glowed with happiness. “Having fun?”
She nodded. “Oh, yeah.” She snickered, then said a little too loudly, “I bet that lady smells like Matilda and Olivia now, too.”
His daughter possessed a twisted sense of humor. He liked it. “Shush, or they might hear you.” He glanced over and noticed Autumn grinning.
Inside, they went through an open area that included a living room, a dining room and a kitchen that astounded him. He had to pause in the kitchen to look around, and that caused everyone else to pause, too.
It was...perfect. Perfect for her father’s limited reach; perfectly proportioned for two people; obviously comfortable and absolutely beautiful. In awe, he took in Autumn’s anxious expression. “You designed this?”
“She drew it up,” Tracy said, before Autumn could speak, “and Ember built it.”
His back teeth locked but his smile never slipped. “Yes, I know.” Without a missing beat, he added, “The design is incredible, Autumn. It flows so naturally.”
The compliment left her flustered. “From one room to the next, I wanted it to be easy for Dad’s chair.”
“It is,” Flynn said. “My girls are brillian’. Wife, too. I’m a lucky man.”
While they moved on, Tash got closer to Autumn. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
She put a small but credible fist in the air. “Hear me roar.”
The teasing tone didn’t negate the rosy color in her cheeks. Praise disconcerted her.
Kissing her had done the same, and right now he wanted to kiss her again. “Just so you know, I’m incredibly impressed.”
Sadie said, “Me, too,” though he doubted she understood. Complicated family dynamics was a tough concept for a seven-year-old.
Even at thirty-four, it amazed Tash. Autumn had created a design that showed her love and affection, her devotion to her parents knowing there’d be little appreciation.
The appreciation, at least from her mother, seemed to be exclusively for Ember.
“Thank you both.” Modesty held Autumn back for a moment, but enthusiasm won out. “I helped Ember with the building once she had it under roof, though she subcontracts out a lot of stuff, too. Electrician, plumber, tile work... Even when she wasn’t doing it herself, she oversaw it all, and kept it moving along without any major delays. I pitched in where I could.” Leaning closer, she breathed into his ear, “They were staying with me until we had it ready. I love them, but trust me, I was motivated to get it done, even if it meant me using power tools.”
By the second, he wanted her more. How was that even possible? How coul
d discussing her eccentric parents make him crave her?
Autumn Somerset, with her lush figure and caring nature, her inner strength and family loyalty, packed one hell of an emotional and physical punch.
“Come on,” she whispered. “Just remember what I told you about Mom’s art.”
Curiosity took him the few steps necessary to enter the open double doors of the studio at the back of the house. Light entered on three sides, displaying wall-to-wall shelves cluttered with clay pieces and a few paintings that he couldn’t begin to decipher.
“What a terrific room.”
“It works for Mom’s art.”
“Here.” Tracy thrust an ornate clay piece into his hands, then stepped back, fingers clutched under her chin, to await his reaction.
Tash looked down, and went speechless.
It looked like—
“Fruit,” Autumn said cheerily, her voice a little high and shrill. “A banana, Mom? Is that right?”
Tracy scowled. “Of course it’s a banana.” She loomed closer to point. “Right here is a peach, and this an apple.”
Well. The peach and apple appeared identical. Fruit? It looked like something altogether different. It looked... Tash twisted it this way and that. Obscene. Like an erect penis on a well-endowed guy. Was it supposed to be a peeled banana? Why were the apple and peach so small?
He didn’t ask.
“I’m thinking of adding some grapes,” Tracy offered, waiting for his approval.
“It’s...wonderful. Very unique.” Searching his brain for something more, he added, “Grapes would be good.”
“Once that’s done, I’ll add color and a glaze.” Sighing in satisfaction, Tracy said, “It’ll be perfect, don’t you think?”
Tash said, “Ah...”
Guessing his predicament, Flynn snickered. “She gets all her ideas from me.”
Tash barely swallowed back his laugh, but with high expectations clearly showing in Tracy’s gaze, and Autumn’s pained embarrassment, he tried for a little more nuance. “You enjoy fruit, Flynn?”
The elder Somerset snorted.
Missing the joke, Tracy said, “That man loves his banana.”
Which left Flynn sputtering.
In a stage whisper that Flynn couldn’t miss, Tracy said, “My art depicts various stages of his stroke.”
Yeah...not a conversation Tash wanted to have.
But like the art, the topic proved deceptive. “After he fell ill, he couldn’t eat for the longest time, only something soft.”
“Like bananas,” Autumn explained, her face on fire.
Flynn grumbled. “I could’a ate more, but that’s all she’d give me!”
“And this.” Tracy produced another work with fanfare.
After one quick look, Tash shook his head. Nope. Not touching it.
Sighing, Autumn rubbed her head. “It’s a rose.”
“The man can see,” Tracy snapped.
The petals, lying softly open, didn’t look like any flower Tash had ever seen. A woman’s body, however...
“My Flynn received flowers every day while he was in the hospital.”
Wheeling his chair around, Flynn glared at the shelves of hapless clay, then shook his head. “She says it’s all about me.”
“Of course it is.” She gazed at her husband adoringly. “It’s very introspective, you know.”
Flynn’s eyes narrowed. “Come here, woman, and I’ll give you something else to dwell on.”
“Dad,” Autumn gasped, clearly horrified. “Child present.”
“Me?” Sadie asked, perking up in interest. Until that moment, she’d just been looking around.
Probably trying to figure out the art.
Tash considered grabbing her up and making a run for it.
“Behave, Flynn.” Tracy turned away. “I want to show Tash my pineapple.”
The smile cracked, and when Tash looked at Autumn, he saw her struggling, as well. He tried, but the laughter swelled inside him. Autumn’s eyes started watering, her face going redder.
He could tell—she’d lose it any second.
Very carefully, Tash put the piece back on the shelf. “You have real talent, Tracy.”
“Thank you. People are often overcome when they see my work.”
And that did it. Autumn’s chuckle started it all. Tash turned his back because watching her made it impossible for him not to laugh, too.
Around snorts and chortles, Autumn said, “I hear Mike calling me!” Shoulders shaking and eyes watering, she quickly edged her way out of the room.
Deserting him!
Knowing he wouldn’t last, Tash swung Sadie up into his arms and said, “We should go, too.”
Tracy rushed forward. “But I had more to show you!”
Oh, God, he couldn’t take more. The phallic fruit and aroused flower were enough for one day. “Thank you, Tracy. I’ll come back again soon, okay? Sadie, thank them both.”
Over his shoulder, Sadie sang, “Thank you!”
Flynn waved them on, but Tracy followed, doing her best to see them graciously to the door...even though he practically ran with his bouncing, laughing daughter in his arms.
Once outside, he searched the area and found Autumn hanging over a fence post, her laughter loud and free.
And oh-so-very compelling.
Giggling, Sadie wiggled to get free.
The second her little feet touched the ground, she ran to Autumn to join in on the laugh-fest. Autumn swung her up again, then seated her on the rail of the fence. She kept her arm around Sadie’s back...and Sadie hugged her neck.
Something warm and insidious wrapped around his heart, squeezing in a way that was almost painful, but more like...magic.
Until meeting Autumn, he hadn’t understood how badly Deb’s infidelity had affected him. After his divorce, he’d wasted so much time on the wrong pursuits. He’d thrown himself into his career. Thrown himself into meaningless relationships. And he’d worried himself sick about Sadie.
Here in Sunset, with Autumn, everything was different.
Yeah, he’d made some headway with her. Her agreement to a relationship meant a lot, because at least for now, she was his and his alone. Chuck could take a hike.
The no-sex thing...it pained him, but he’d give Autumn all the time she needed. Eventually she’d want him more than ice cream.
He hoped.
Someday she’d look at him with that same level of affection she had when gazing around her farm.
Until then, being with her wouldn’t be a hardship. Autumn was always a good time, whether sitting at the beach talking, or looking at suggestive art with her parents.
At a more sedate pace, his heart thumping with new and unfamiliar emotions, Tash went to them...already a little addicted. Already a little lost.
Pondering how he’d manage a platonic relationship with a woman who made him burn with her hilarity.
It was a very special thing.
Almost, but not quite, as special as Autumn.
Chapter Nine
Apparently, a relationship took up no more time than being single—or at least that proved true for the first part of the week. She saw Tash Monday morning, and then Tuesday afternoon, too, as they worked with Ember on the outdoor equipment.
The heat wave continued with humidity as thick as butter. Though she looked a wreck within an hour, Tash didn’t seem to notice. He even tucked back a damp curl, smiling at her as if he found her sweaty hair adorable. She’d have loved another kiss, but with Ember and Sadie there, it didn’t happen.
By Thursday, when she joined him for their prearranged dinner, the outdoor area had really taken shape. The frame of the pirate ship was in, built around the tree rather than in it, for added stability. Six feet off the ground, it just reached the largest bran
ches so that Autumn was able to incorporate them into the design. She’d even gotten a small skull-and-crossbones flag that they attached to one barren branch for added flair.
Sadie loved it. Finally, the little girl got involved, weighing on one thing after another with gleeful energy.
The beam for the swings and slide extended off to one side, braced by a climbing wall. Ember hadn’t yet added the ladder because they didn’t want Sadie tempted to climb it, not until the floor and sides were in.
She was a very sweet, well-behaved girl...but still a child, one who was obviously used to more responsibility and less supervision.
Autumn promised her that once the floorboards were complete, a tire swing and two-seater would hang beneath, then she’d be able to start playing.
Already the neighborhood kids took notice. Each day when Autumn stopped by, she saw that Ember had two or three extra sets of eyes with Sadie’s new friends sitting on the grass and asking questions.
Given all the tension with Mike lately, as well as Ember’s sometimes morose mood, Autumn worried for her. But here, working in the yard, Ember seemed in her element, teasing, laughing and patiently giving answers to the kids.
It warmed Autumn’s heart to know that Sadie was already making friends, and it relieved her that Ember looked in such high spirits.
Thursday, for their dinner, Tash grilled steaks. As soon as she arrived, Sadie ran to greet her with a hug, and then Tash pulled her in for a kiss to the forehead.
It wasn’t quite the welcome she wanted from him, but with Sadie watching, she understood his restraint. Because of the heat, they ate inside, but by early evening they’d settled into lawn chairs with—bless the man—ice-cream cones, while Sadie and the other children played under a sprinkler.
“She’s more at ease each time I see her.” Autumn noticed how two of the kids had ice cream dripping down their chins, yet Sadie was more fastidious, making only a slight mess before rinsing under the sprinkler.
“Her foot’s completely healed. I’m glad now that I didn’t put her through a doctor visit.” Tash finished off his cone, too, his gaze on his daughter. “Last night, she told me she loves it here. We talked for a long time about the schools, her new friends, the lake, the pirate ship...and you.”