by T. M. Cromer
“I’m not sure it’s…” Seeing the disappointment start to cloud her features, he changed his tune. “Sure.”
Autumn bit her lip to curb her amused grin. She cleared her throat, and he suspected it was to hide the laughter bubbling up. “It’s a mini-facial and will take about a half hour. If it’s all right with you, we want to turn this into a spa day.”
“Is it girls only?” he asked.
“You want to get your toes painted, Keaton?” she taunted.
He eyed the tub of water containing her feet. “I don’t know about the polish, but soaking my feet would be nice.”
“Here, Daddy. Take my spot. Miss Dixie is finished with mine.”
Keaton tweaked Chloe’s nose before lifting her, settling into the chair, and setting her on his lap. “Don’t mind if I do.” He took a large bite of his daughter’s leftover pizza and grinned at Autumn while he chewed.
“This was supposed to be a girls’ day,” Autumn said archly.
He glanced around at the other Thorne women in the salon. None of them seemed to be bothered he was here. As a matter of fact, Winnie shot him a wink that he took for encouragement.
“Should we put it to a vote?” Spring asked laughingly. “All in favor of Keaton joining our party, say aye.”
Four of the five said aye. The only one left to vote was Autumn, and he faced her with a raised brow. “Is this majority rules or does it have to be unanimous?”
“Majority rules,” Winnie piped up. “Tums’s vote doesn’t count.”
“Still, I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted,” he told her.
“You’re wanted,” Autumn replied softly. So low that he almost missed it.
His heart picked up its pace and did its best impression of a jack-hammer. The underlying meaning of her words was not lost.
“But to be a true member, you have to have your toes polished,” she added with a flash of her dimple followed by a mischievous chuckle.
“I’ll have you know, I am not afraid to pocket my man-card for the day and have my toenails polished. Chloe went through a purple polish stage about two years ago. I fell victim to her pleading.”
The women all laughed.
“Daiquiri or beer?” Summer asked.
“Whatever the rest of the party is having,” he returned.
“Daiquiri it is.”
Within minutes he was drinking the best strawberry-flavored froufrou drink he’d ever had. “I think men don’t realize what they’re missing,” he said with a contented sigh as the warm water bubbled around his feet and ankles.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in a swirl of activity. Manicures, facials, hair styles. When they were all finished, Chloe lingered by the makeup display, a look of longing on her face.
He started forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.
“Can I treat her to a lip gloss?” Autumn asked, careful to keep her voice low. “I know some parents feel eight is young, but I think she only wants to bond with another female.”
“Does it show that I’m lost at sea here?” he asked with a self-conscious laugh.
“It shows you are a caring father, Keaton. She’s lucky to have you.”
He loved Autumn more in that moment than he ever had. She understood his struggle and didn’t mock him.
“She can have whatever she wants.”
“Okay, some restraint on your part wouldn’t be remiss,” she laughed.
“Would it be better if I leave the whole thing in your hands?”
“Possibly.”
He waved a hand toward Chloe. “Be my guest.”
“Watch and learn,” Autumn sassed.
Oh, he had no problem watching. He could watch her walk away all day with a curvy ass like hers.
As if she felt his gaze locked on her lush ass, she cast a last look over her shoulder.
He winked.
Her fiery blush pleased him. She could deny their connection all she wanted, but whatever they shared hadn’t been completely lost. He had hope that he could build on what remained of her feelings for him.
For the next few minutes, he observed Autumn teach the fine art of makeup application to his daughter. Any other father would be dying inside at the idea of his little girl trying to be older, but Chloe needed the bonding time with another female.
“She’s good with her, isn’t she?” Winnie said from beside him.
“She is. Chloe missed that type of attention growing up.”
“Autumn was never the monster you painted her, Keaton,” she said with a hint of censure.
“I know.” He faced her and allowed her to see his honest, raw emotions. “I was a fool. My only excuse was fear. Plain and simple.”
“Why did you sleep with Diane that night? To punish my sister?”
“God, no!” He hadn’t realized he’d practically shouted his response until the occupants of the salon turned toward him. He lowered his voice for Winnie’s ears alone. “Until Autumn walked in and woke me—er, us—I had no idea I’d even had sex with Diane. I was trashed that night, Winnie. I still don’t remember the act itself.” He screwed up his mouth in self-disgust. “A friend of mine said that Diane came onto me. Like I said, I don’t remember.”
The whole incident left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Why did you never seek Autumn out to explain?” she asked quietly.
“A number of reasons. Part of me was still angry with her for what she’d withheld. I was also embarrassed by my reaction. Then there was the irrational belief that my feelings for her weren’t my own.” He sighed and shook his head. “But mostly, what I did was unforgivable.”
“Not unforgivable. I think a part of her has already forgiven you.” Winnie smiled. “I mean, she has started talking to you again and hasn’t threatened to turn you into a toadstool in at least a week.”
“Thank God for small favors,” he muttered.
“Goddess,” Winnie corrected with a laugh. “You are officially pagan now, Mr. Warlock.”
“I’ve known about magic for nearly ten years and still can’t wrap my head around it.”
“True, but you didn’t live it every day.” She patted his arm before walking away.
Winnie was wrong. He had lived with it every day. There hadn’t been one single day that went by since his breakup with Autumn when he didn’t relive their fight. Sometimes he’d been angry when recalling the events, and sometimes he’d been sad. But he’d thought of Autumn constantly.
“Okay, here’s the thing; we want to continue our little hen party at the house,” Autumn told Keaton. “Disney flicks, popcorn, and slumber party.”
“I’m in.”
The sexy way he growled the words, for her ears alone, caused her nether region to tingle. She tried to remind herself they’d never had a problem when it came to sex, but risking her heart to him again was foolish on every level.
Her brows lifted, and she slapped her let’s-get-real face firmly in place. “You are not invited. Last time I checked, and forgive me because it’s been a while, you weren’t a hen. You were more of the rooster variety.”
He grinned, and the wickedness of it stole her breath.
“No,” she said, applying the word to all things sexual in nature.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m pretty good at arranging hair and talking about… things. Should we put it to another vote?”
His words brought to mind the times he would run his fingers through Autumn’s hair after they’d made love. They would lay about as he removed the tangles and talk about everything and nothing. No subject had been off limits, and they’d had the most interesting debates. Ones that usually ended in a rousing bout of lovemaking.
Because she needed space from her memories, she said, “I’m overruling everyone.”
“But you aren’t the WC president,” he taunted. “That’s Chloe’s position. I think she’ll do her old dad a solid.”
“Let me put this another way. If you join us tonight, I’m not h
aving dinner with you tomorrow.”
“Ah, babe, you drive a hard bargain. Do you need me to drop anything by for her tonight? PJs or a toothbrush?”
“We can conjure anything she needs,” Autumn assured him.
“She has a special bear she likes to sleep with.”
“You’re determined to come by, aren’t you?”
“Other than her staying with her mom, it’s her first sleep-over,” he admitted, sheepishness written all over his expression.
Dammit! Didn’t he look adorable in his concern for his daughter?
“How about I get your number and text you when she’s ready for bed? You can bring her bear and tuck her in.”
“Thank you,” he said, his tone low and intimate.
“Off with you.” Or the walls of ice around her heart would melt to mere puddles of water.
He studied her for a short while, and his eyes seemed a little lighter, perhaps a bit brighter. “You are one in a million, Autumn Thorne,” he said. The husky timbre of his voice curled inside her and made her long for things she shouldn’t want.
To hide her thoughts, she whipped out her cell. “What’s your number?”
He rattled off seven digits then brushed past her to scoop his daughter into a hug. “Be good for Autumn, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“I’ll see you tonight when I drop off your things. I love you, Chloe.”
Autumn’s stomach flipped at his words. She hadn’t heard them spoken from him in what felt like forever. Granted they weren’t directed at her, but with those three little words, he brought her back to the first time he’d uttered them to her.
They’d gone skiing, just the two of them. But a terrible snow storm had rolled in that day, and because the ski patrol advised against going up the mountain, the two of them had stayed tucked away in their tiny chalet. They’d been snuggled together in front of the large stone hearth, wrapped around each other under a blanket as they sipped wine.
“I love you, Autumn.” Keaton had said the words without any fanfare or warning. A simple statement.
She twisted around to see his expression. What she saw was a man who stood behind the conviction of his words.
“I love you too, Keaton.”
That night, there was a new element to their lovemaking. They took their time making love, as if they had all the time in the world. They worshipped each other’s bodies with each kiss and every caress, letting their bodies speak for them.
Keaton had told her at least ten more times within the next twenty-four hours. And until the day she’d walked into his bedroom and saw him in bed with her best friend, she never doubted his affection.
“Are you all right?”
Keaton’s concerned voice brought her back from the past in a rush.
“Yes.”
The false smile fooled no one. He would’ve commented, but Chloe spoke up at that precise instant, diverting his attention.
Autumn breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t lie, but she didn’t want to rehash the past. Nothing good would come of going down that road. She needed to find a way to cancel tomorrow’s date. Perhaps she needed to rethink his assistance in China too. Keaton had the potential to lay waste to her carefully reconstructed world.
Chapter 11
Later that evening, Keaton swung by to drop off Chloe’s bear and tuck her in as promised. He noticed the sisters had conjured a perfect little girl’s room for his daughter, filled with purple butterflies and all things magical. Autumn’s old room held no trace of the past. He experienced a pang in the region of his heart for what once was.
When he walked downstairs, Autumn and two of her sisters were gathered in the living room, sipping wine. They wore cute footie pajamas to match Chloe’s set. As one, they looked up as he entered the room.
His eyes zeroed in on Autumn, as they always did. “Thanks for being kind to Chloe. She’d had a rough go of it.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Keaton. I truly adore her.” She nodded to Winnie and Spring. “We all do.”
“Still, she’s lonely and…” He broke off, unable to voice the pain he felt on his daughter’s behalf.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Spring asked him kindly.
“I’d love one.”
“Red or white?”
“Whatever is open will be fine,” he assured her with a smile.
She rose and gestured to her spot next to Autumn. “Take a load off. You’ve had a rough day too.”
Keaton’s eyes sought Autumn’s for permission. Although wary, she nodded and shifted to make room on the couch for his larger frame.
“Cute PJs,” he said.
“Winnie’s idea when Chloe said what she wanted hers to look like.”
At a loss for words, he stared.
When she ducked her head, he drew back the heavy curtain of auburn hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
She cleared her throat and looked anywhere but at him. “I don’t think dinner tomorrow is a good idea,” she blurted.
“In general, or with me?” He’d suspected she would try to wheedle out of the date once she had a chance to think about it.
Winnie popped up. “Would you look at the time! I have to check internet orders.”
“Not subtle at all, sister,” Autumn snarked.
Winnie grinned. “Can’t say I didn’t try to make it seem legit.”
Keaton would’ve laughed had he not been pissed that Autumn was trying to cancel on him.
Spring returned with a glass of red wine and followed Winnie from the room.
Left alone, Autumn had no choice but to face him.
“With you,” she said, answering his earlier question. “We aren’t who we used to be. Too much water has flowed under that bridge, Keaton.”
“Here’s the thing: whatever we had, it’s not dead.” He lifted her hand and placed it flat over his heart. “Feel that? It happens whenever I see you walk into a room. Whenever you’re near, my heart goes into overdrive. I don’t care if I live to be one hundred. It’s never going away.”
She remained silent.
“I think you feel it, too.” He laid his palm flat over her heart. “I’m sure of it.”
“Thornes only love once. But that doesn’t mean I can ever trust you again,” she said not unkindly. There was no malice in her words, just honest fear to believe in him again.
“I love you. I always have, and I always will.” He pushed past the apprehension building inside.
“But your kind of love isn’t what I want. I need someone stronger than you’ll ever be.”
He stopped breathing. When he started again, his lungs felt heavy, as if he inhaled lungfuls of water and was on the verge of drowning.
“Stronger?” he had the presence of mind to ask.
“Someone who won’t run into another woman’s arms the second we’ve argued or after they’ve become blindingly drunk.”
“I was a stupid kid, Autumn.” His head fell back against the cushions. “How can I prove to you it will never happen again?”
“I don’t know that you can. But you have to understand what seeing the two of you together did to me, Keaton. It broke me.” She took a ragged breath. “You not only rejected all that I was—am—in that clearing, you turned to someone else within hours.”
No words could defend his actions. Hell, more than anyone, he knew how indefensible they were.
“When I opened your door, when I saw you in bed together—the man I loved and my best friend—I died. Or the Autumn I was back then did. At least in part. Then the baby…” She shook her head. “I’m still dead inside. There are moments when warmth seeps in, like spending time with Chloe and my sisters, but otherwise I feel nothing.”
“Christ, Autumn! I’m so sorry.”
“I know you are. I am, too. But it changes nothing.” She took a sip of wine while she stared at the low-burning flames of the fireplace. “We can’t go back and undo the past. But perhaps we can go forw
ard as friends.”
“I’m not sure I can handle only being your friend.”
Finally, she turned her face toward his. “It’s easier than the enemies we’ve been until now, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. At least when I despised you, I felt it was justified. In a weird way, it kept me going.”
“I know what you mean. I think we lived to taunt one another.”
He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears.
“I don’t want to hate you, Keaton. But I can’t love you either.”
“Where does that leave us?”
“Right where we are. I will train you, Coop, and Chloe until I feel you are ready to be on your own. Then I go home to Maine for good.”
“In the meantime, there’s a magical stone to find,” he reminded her.
“Yes, there is that. I understand if you don’t want to go with me. Maybe it would be better if you didn’t.”
“I’m going. It’s the least I can do for you.”
She cupped his jaw. “You don’t have to try to make up for anything. You know that, right?”
He turned his head and placed a light kiss in the center of her palm. “And yet, I do.”
Frustration and something resembling resignation settled over her features. “Fair enough.” She rose and set her glass of wine on the coffee table. “I’ll see you out.”
“You should give that poor boy a second chance.”
The warm voice startled Autumn from the trance she’d been in since Keaton drove away. And because she knew to whom the voice belonged, she didn’t bother to turn around. “It isn’t that easy, Aunt GiGi.”
“Why?”
“He can’t be trusted.”
“He’s suffered as much as you, child.”
Temper rising, Autumn spun her upper body to face GiGi. “Has he? It wasn’t him who walked in on me screwing his best friend. It wasn’t him who carried a child for four months only to lose it, and with it, any ability to bear another.” She struggled to regain control. “Please, don’t tell me how much he’s suffered. In my opinion, it wasn’t enough.”
And maybe that was what was bothering Autumn. Perhaps deep inside, she didn’t feel it was fair to let him off scot-free.