by L. B. Dunbar
“Logan,” I warn, but before I can add further reprimands, I’m up in his arms, and he’s carrying me off for the bathroom.
24
[Logan]
We didn’t have sex, but we did other things to get much-needed relief from the tension surrounding us when Autumn first arrived.
I ordered in from a favorite barbecue place downtown and selected a movie to watch, although I’m not really paying attention. Autumn is seated between my spread thighs on the extended settee portion of my couch. Her body leans against my chest, and I toy with her hair. Wearing one of my tees with a blanket over her legs because of the air conditioning in my place, I like seeing her in my clothing, and I love having her in my home.
My place isn’t filled with art or trinkets like most houses. I have pictures Lorna made magnetized to the fridge and photographs of us here and there, but for the most part, my place looks like a bachelor pad with a large screen television on the wall and the oversized couch with an extended end. The rooms here could use some color, and Autumn could be it.
I’m comfortable in how we sit, and I wish we’d had more moments like this at Lakeside Cottage. We weren’t necessarily fooling anyone about what we did at night, but we tried to keep a respectful distance during the day. Most likely, the shared looks and occasional sneaking off for a quick kiss in a hallway or behind trees on the walk up the cliff didn’t miss anyone’s attention. Still, we never cuddled on the couch like we are now. It feels like a normal date-night-in which reminds me we’ve only been on one date.
“Three hours isn’t that far of a drive,” I say as I try to reason with myself that we could work.
“It’s not too bad. Pretty direct,” she states as if confirming my words.
“So how soon can we do this again?” I question, tightening my arms around her, realizing I don’t mean the sexy stuff, but hanging out with one another. I want to date her. I want to know her better. We’ve spent decades in the same circle but circling one another. It’s time to make her the center of my attention.
The best solution is a rotating schedule of visits. The complication comes in having Lorna. I never miss her activities, and I don’t want to start. However, I can’t ask Autumn to come to me every other weekend.
“When do you have Lorna next?” Autumn thoughtfully asks.
“As I just had her for two weeks, it’s Chloe’s weekend in a few days. The following weekend is mine.” I hated the idea of rotating weekends and limited visits during the week when Chloe and I first divorced. It didn’t seem fair. I wanted Lorna in my home when I woke and when I went to bed. I wanted all the little moments and the big ones between, but eventually, I had to learn to share. Chloe and I kept up with monumental steps, and it’s one reason Chloe’s recent betrayal stings so much.
“So, the weekend after that?” Autumn asks. That’s nearly two and half weeks away and sounds too long to go without her.
“How does that work with your cycle?” I tease, bringing us back to our original mission. After what she said to me earlier, though, I’m relieved to hear we’re both on the same page. I don’t want her with random men. I don’t want a list for her. However, I still want to give her that baby she desires. I want to give her so much more, but I need to tackle this issue with Chloe first.
Autumn’s head shifts off my shoulder before she sits upright and angles her body between my thighs to face me. Her eyes lower to my chest, and she flattens her palm to my racing heart.
“I’m not talking about sex,” she whispers, tracing her finger over the cotton covering my left pec. “I want to date you or whatever you want to call it.”
Can this be real? It’s my same thought.
“I want to date you, too.” I lean forward for a kiss, but she pulls back too quickly to make it anything more than a soft peck.
“I will not distract you from Lorna, though. We need to be cognizant of her. She has a lot going on.”
I nod to agree, nearly loving this woman for her concern for my daughter. I hear what she’s saying, but I’m also feeling strangely like Chloe—a little selfish. How is it fair that my ex gets to date? She wants to move to France, and I can’t even figure out when to see Autumn again.
“We’ll work it out,” I state as I said earlier. Leaning forward, I capture her lips as I didn’t like the too-quick kiss or the way she pulled away from me. Our mouths meet and slowly move together. Tongues twirl. Teeth nip. She grips my jaw, and my fingers wrap around the back of her neck. We’re both hungry for more when we can’t go much further than heavy petting tonight.
God, I want this woman. It’s only been three days since I last saw her, and I’m desperate for more. This feeling of wanting her so much is near dizzying, and the fact she wants me in return is mind-blowing. I’ll never have enough of her, and it’s more than diving into her body. I want her smile. I want her heart. I want us.
We must make this work.
+ + +
In the middle of the night, I get a call from Lorna, sobbing into the phone.
“What’s wrong, honey?” With Autumn tucked next to me, I’m groggy with sleep. I shift in order to concentrate on my daughter, and Autumn rolls toward me.
“Don’t make me go, Dad. Please. I don’t want to go to France. I know it will be awful in middle school, but I promise I won’t complain. I won’t be upset about anything, just don’t make me move somewhere where I don’t know the language and won’t like the food.”
“Calm down, baby,” I say, trying to get a grip on my bearings. Scrubbing a hand down my face, I eventually roll from the bed and stand. “No one is going to make you go anywhere you don’t want to go.”
While my daughter might have been apprehensive about middle school, she’d rather face the torture of it than travel halfway around the world. And while France is as civilized as they come and full of food she’d grow to love, as well as a language I’m certain she’d master, I understand her apprehension.
“Dad, please let me live with you.” Her plea breaks my heart.
“You know I want that, right?” My constant concern since Chloe told me her plan is that she hasn’t been totally forthright with our daughter, and the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. “I told Mom you could live with me.”
Another sob has my heart ripping in two.
“Lorna, did Mom say something differently?”
“She just keeps telling me I have to go with her. It will be an adventure, but I don’t want an adventure. If I wanted to move somewhere, it would be Lakeside.”
“Oh, baby,” I whisper, knowing it can’t be this difficult or this easy. If Lorna was on board to move, I just might be persuaded to race back to Lakeside. Does Mason still want to open a business together?
Spinning in a half-circle, I face my bed where a sleepy Autumn is watching me. I adore this woman, and I want everything with her. Would it be ridiculous to give up a good job with the firm? Could I uproot my entire life? My thoughts race to Ben and his situation. He just wants to be happy in his final days. He wants to live where he wants to live, love who he loves, and slow down a bit. Would any of that be wrong?
“Honey, nothing’s going to happen tonight. Mom and I need to talk, and we will. Tonight, you need to calm down and go to bed.” What is she even doing up this late?
“But Dad—”
“No, but Dad. You aren’t going to France, and I’ll be speaking with Mom tomorrow.” My voice hardens. I don’t understand how Chloe can do this to us. We might not be a couple, but we had an agreement. We’d parent together. We’d make choices for our daughter together. We’d been agreeable so far in our arrangement, but this is too much. I am not backing down.
“Fine,” Lorna moans, and the hint of impending teenage years creeps closer.
“I love you, baby,” I say to her, watching Autumn watch me.
“Love you, too, Dad.” With that, my daughter hangs up, and I stare down at Autumn.
“Lorna, right?” She slowly smiles in the dim light of
my room. Streetlamps cast a glow through the blinds.
Softly, I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“You’re so sweet when you tell her you love her.” Her voice softens, and I collapse back to the bed, sitting on the edge.
“I don’t toss those words out lightly,” I tell her, brushing a hand down her arm. “My daughter is the love of my life.”
Autumn sighs, rolling away from me to look up at the ceiling. “I can understand that.” She blinks. Does she understand? Everything I do, I do because of my girl. I want what’s best for Lorna despite wanting a little slice of happiness for myself.
Continuing to stare at Autumn, I consider something else. She deserves someone who can love her, someone who can commit everything to her. She deserves a man who can be by her side.
I hadn’t thought about it before, but maybe this is where all the baby business comes from. She wants a certain someone to center her life. She wants to give all the love inside her to someone special. However, loving a child isn’t the same as loving your soul mate. Lorna is my everything, but she isn’t a replacement for the other half of me.
“Loving my child isn’t the same as loving a partner.” My voice remains low, as if I’m imparting great wisdom. I need Autumn to understand that having a baby isn’t going to fill a hole in her.
“I know that,” Autumn states, an edge to her tone as her head rolls on the pillow and her eyes focus on me.
I should stop talking, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “A baby won’t replace a man in your life.”
“A man in my life?” Her eyes narrow; her voice turns edgier. “I thought that’s who you would be.”
Stroking up her arm with my knuckles, I hum in response, biting my own tongue. I want to be that for her, but suddenly, I’m not certain how that will work. We’ve discussed the calendar and haven’t come to any conclusions. Autumn needs someone present, and I’m going to be a distance from her.
We’ve discussed how Autumn didn’t really want to raise a baby on her own. She hasn’t been alone by choice. She’s been alone because she dated idiots. I don’t want to be one of those men who let her slip out of my hands, but I’m also not certain how I can keep her. It doesn’t feel fair to her.
Sadness weighs heavy on my shoulders, as I suddenly don’t know how to make us work.
25
[Autumn]
“So, what’s happening with Logan?” Anna asks as we sit in the nail salon getting late summer pedicures. In the interim of the two-week guys’ visit, Anna and Ben returned to Chicago to tackle the laborious task of packing up their belongings and moving their personal affects to the Lakeside house. Dozens of boxes, including pictures, mementos, and valuable items of their previous life, litter their future home. Their furniture is scheduled to arrive Saturday. They are keeping only the most sentimental pieces and parting with the rest. Their house in Chicago is under contract.
“Nothing’s happening with him.”
A man in my life? That’s who I thought you’d be.
I’d misunderstood everything. To my surprise, he hadn’t called since I left his place, despite his professions to date me. Unable to help myself, I’d called him. Three times. Then I wanted to kick my own ass. I swore I’d never do it again. I wouldn’t give in to the temptation to nurture. I only wanted to check on him and Lorna, but each time I called, it went to voicemail.
Hey, saw you called. Will call you later. Nothing followed his first and only text. No phone call occurred.
I hadn’t tried to call again. It had been eleven days and roughly twelve hours since we last spoke, and a thousand times a day, I’d check my phone or hover over his number before tossing the device to the side. Just once, I wanted a man who chased me. Who wanted me. Who wanted an us with me.
I had my answer to Logan’s commitment. Considering his situation with his daughter, my need to nurture was crawling under my skin. I fought the urge to contact him again because it’s what I do. I hover, sympathize, tug a man into my arms, and soothe him in my bed. Then I cook, clean, offer money, and lose my heart. Not that I really thought Logan would need all that from me. I was getting ahead of myself, but I recognized the signs and didn’t want to go down that path again.
Instead, I’d taken time to reflect on my rash decision to rush to his home and tell him my situation instead of just calling him.
I wasn’t pregnant.
Perhaps it was the reality check I needed. What was I thinking? Sleeping with Logan Anders in hopes to get pregnant—ha. He’s not the type of man I could ever walk away from without a deep scar. He’s my brother’s best friend whom I’ve always crushed on, and suddenly, he was in my bed—in my heart—even deeper than those younger years. I was an idiot.
Besides thinking we were made for each other as a teen, I couldn’t ever really explain why I crushed on Logan as much as I did. He was one of those men who you can’t put your finger on why exactly you like him so much. You just do. It was more than his sweet humor, his handsome looks, or his large heart, or perhaps, it was a combination of all three that made him feel like a gift in my life. His devotion to his daughter only added to his appeal. His determination to keep her. His sweet voice when he spoke to her.
I’d fallen even further down the rabbit hole of desire for him.
However, Logan and I are at different points in our lives, and I’d assumed too much. I fell for pretty words and bottomless promises. He said he didn’t want me with other men, but he wasn’t the man present with me. He said he wanted me, but he hadn’t called. I’d heard it all before, and I’d slowly come to accept I’d misinterpreted everything. Everything he’d said was out of sympathy for my condition.
I wasn’t pregnant.
He told me what I wanted to hear. He wanted to make babies with me. He wanted to try again. He wanted to date me. I was such a fool. He’d given me that elusive sausage from his college jest, and he’d been correct. I hadn’t been able to handle it.
“Are you going to see each other again?” Anna hesitantly asks, rolling her head on the massage chair beside mine to gaze over at me.
“I wanted to.” I blink up at the ceiling, willing away tears that had been falling for days as I admit the truth to my sister-in-law. “I really wanted to continue being with him somehow, but his silence speaks volumes. And I could never ask him to continue with the plan. I can’t ask for more from him with these new concerns for Lorna.”
Mason, Ben, and Anna kept me informed of Logan and Chloe’s issues. I only wish Logan had been reaching out to me instead. As for the plan, Anna already knows I got my period, and baby-making step one did not work.
“And you told him what happened?”
“I told him,” I remind her. She doesn’t know I went all crazy-ass and drove to Indianapolis to tell him of my fate. She doesn’t know I’d spent another night in his arms, giving in to his touch and taking his words for what I thought they were worth. I also didn’t have the heart to mention I’d tried repeatedly to get in contact with him. His silence spoke volumes.
“It just doesn’t seem like Logan. I saw how he looked at you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Her brows pinch as she questioned what I’ve already questioned. I didn’t understand what had happened.
“I guess he changed his mind.” To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.
“It has to be this thing with Chloe.” Anna nods to emphasize her thoughts.
“Maybe.”
I didn’t care for Chloe. We’d met on several occasions when she was Logan’s wife, and I never liked her. There wasn’t anything wrong with her. When she married Logan, they seemed like a good fit. They were the couple I’d always envisioned Logan and I being. The couple destined for one another because of size, shape, and silliness. However, Chloe changed after having Lorna. She lost weight, and her personality shifted. Everyone was convinced she was having an affair with her personal trainer. I didn’t wish for Logan to divorce her, but no one was surprised when they did separate. His dev
otion to his daughter kept him near his ex-wife, establishing a friendship with her that seems rare among divorced couples. Chloe’s desire to move to France and take Lorna with her really rocked their relationship.
I didn’t want to be selfish. His daughter was at stake. He had bigger issues than dating me, and I didn’t want to bother him. Still, I wanted to call. I wanted to know if he was okay, how was he handling things, or if he just wanted to talk. Apparently, he didn’t.
“You should call him,” Anna states as if reading my thoughts. “He could use a friend.”
Friends. I scoff. Logan and I could never be friends again. I was the tagalong sister coming and going here and there with Ben’s tight-knit group. I was an outsider, and I was feeling my position. And I couldn’t go backward. I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t felt more for him.
Our two-week commitment was finished. The bargain broken. I hadn’t gotten pregnant. I’d made the misstep to rush to Logan with my news. Was I pregnant or not? He only wanted to know the facts. I wasn’t. Despite pretty words to try again, we wouldn’t. In time, we’d act like we never slept together.
As the only man on my so-called baby-making list, the list was now empty. I was as alone as I’d been before Logan. Maybe even more lonely as I’d had a taste of what I thought would be a good thing, only to have it be just sex.
Wasn’t that what I’d asked of him? Oh, the irony.
“I don’t know what I’d say.” I really should call one more time and ask about Lorna. She must feel torn between parents, and that had to be difficult. The thought reminds me how fortunate I was that my parents loved one another and gave Ben and myself an example of a hardworking, devoted couple. It wasn’t always easy for them, but their love always shone through. Ben had been lucky to replicate that kind of relationship. I wanted the same thing for myself.
“Logan really isn’t like the rest of them.” Anna gives me a knowing look as if she can read my thoughts. I consider the crazy physical connection between the two of us and this strange disconnect we have now that our vacation tryst is over. Perhaps chemistry was all we had, and we lack the deeper attraction needed to sustain a relationship. Or maybe I just don’t warrant that type of commitment from a man.