Living at 40 (Lakeside Cottage Book 1)

by L. B. Dunbar

  “I want.” I suck at her tongue and nip her lower lip.

  “To be.” My mouth crushes hers, forcing her to follow mine.

  “With you.” There will be no more words.

  Pressing at her hips, she takes my meaning and moves to straddle me. Her center hits my rock-hard dick, and we both moan at the nearness, but we aren’t close enough.

  “Missed you so much,” she mumbles against my lips.

  “Same, sweetheart. Same.” My hands are in her hair, and she’s rocking on my lap. My dick nearly weeps with excitement and desire for her, but I won’t press. I’m following her lead. We kiss like we haven’t seen one another in years instead of half a month.

  “Need you,” she whimpers.

  “Here?” It’s dark enough, and we’re technically below the house, obstructed from view by the drop from the backyard.

  “Here.” Autumn scrambles off my legs and removes her shorts and underwear. I quickly work at lowering mine to my ankles and suck in a sharp breath at the cool wood under my ass. Autumn climbs back over my thighs, draping the blanket over her shoulders as a weak shield.

  “No protection. We’re going for this, and whatever happens happens.” I know what I want. I want her to get pregnant, and I want the baby to be mine. Then I’m going to invest everything I have in this woman—heart and soul.

  “Whatever happens happens,” she repeats before positioning me at her soaked entrance and slowly taking me within her.

  I groan—a heavy, lusty sound of relief. She’s so warm, so wet, and so mine. My mouth captures hers again while holding her hips and helping her dance over me. After one sharp movement, I break from the kiss. “God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you, Autumn. End of long, lonely days. Bringing on sexy nights.”

  She giggles. “Why do you add those lines?” Her words stammer as she moves over me.

  “Because your name is a beautiful season meaning change.” And I’m so ready for one in my life. I’m ready for her.

  “Some think fall is the end of things.”

  “Nope.” Her quick slide up my thick shaft and sudden drop to engulf me in her hitches my breath. “It’s a new beginning.”

  Her mouth seeks mine, and we move in silence other than sharp intakes of breath and subtle moans of pleasure.

  “Gotta come,” I warn her too quickly, but I won’t go without her. Her hand lowers between her spread legs, and her knuckles brush at the coarse hair against my pubic bone. Her fingers work her trigger spot, and I drop my gaze to watch. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  With her head tipped forward and her breath short, she losses herself in pleasure over my body. I’m lost as well, wanting her more than anything else. We’ll find a way to make us work. I won’t mess up again.

  “Logan,” she whimpers, but I don’t need the warning. I already know the signs of her body. The clenching. The shortness of breath. The increased thrusts. She breaks over me, and I hold her hips to keep her pinned in place as I go off just as quickly.

  This is it. I’m going to get her pregnant, and then, I’m going to marry her.

  27

  [Autumn]

  My legs are still trembling by the time we enter the house. The orgasm was so intense I saw stars and not just the ones peppering the sky. Logan held me over his lap until he’d gone soft, and a shiver ran up my spine. Between Ben and Anna's final move and the surprise of seeing Logan, plus what we’d just done, I am drained.

  “I’d love for you to come to my place,” I admit as we silently enter the back door.

  “I know, but the guys are expecting me over the garage, and I want to stick close for Lorna.”

  “Where were you?” The sudden shriek of Mila from the dark kitchen surprises us both.

  “Mila, honey, what are you doing down here?” I ask, surprised by my niece’s harsh voice. Her little arms cross over her chest, and her hip juts out to the side. Is she tapping her foot? And why do I feel scolded by a ten-year-old? Without waiting on an answer from her, I answer her question. “Logan and I went for a walk.”

  “Well, Lorna’s crying.”

  “Okay. I got this.” Logan gives me a quick kiss on the side of the head and steps forward, but Mila lifts a hand.

  “She wants to know if Autumn will come instead.”

  “What?” Logan and I say together.

  “It’s a girl thing,” Mila announces, shrugging her bony little shoulder.

  “Oh.” Logan chokes around the sound, and I reach for his wrist.

  “Do you want to handle this?”

  “Um.” He swallows hard. I have faith Logan can do this. He can address his daughter’s issue, but he appears a little shell-shocked.

  “Is this her first time?” I quietly ask, not wanting to embarrass him.

  “I think so.” His wide eyes and stunned expression confirm his uncertainty. “Chloe hadn’t mentioned anything and . . . Lorna hasn’t said.”

  I smile as I softly pat his arm. “I’ve got this.”

  “Okay.” His voice feels distant, and then his shoulders relax. “Okay. Thank you. Let me know if she . . . needs anything.” He’s got this, but he also needs a minute. Eleven years old seems early to me, but I know girls are having periods younger and younger, and Anna’s already had the talk with Mila just so she’s prepared.

  After pressing a kiss to his jaw, I walk forward, gesturing for Mila to lead the way upstairs.

  “Is Logan your boyfriend?” Mila asks once we hit the staircase.

  “I—” Is that who I am to Logan? I’m not certain how to answer, nor do I think it’s my niece’s business. Her teasing voice reminds me she’s young, and this isn’t her concern. “Where is Lorna now?”

  “She’s in my bathroom.”

  I continue to follow Mila down the hall to her bedroom, where she has a bathroom inside. “If he’s your boyfriend, do you think he and Lorna will move here? You could get married, and then Lorna and I could go to school together.”

  Oh my. It’s a sweet thought, but Mila and Lorna wouldn’t be in the same grade. I’m not even going to address the idea of marrying Logan. It’s a dream I’ve had since I was young, but not one I want to hope for as I’m older. I’d say wiser, but I can admit I’m just a fool for love, and I wanna be in love with Logan. I am in love with him, but I want him to love me in return.

  Stopping before the bathroom door, I rap softly at the wood, dismissing my niece’s questions again. “Lorna, it’s Autumn.”

  “Come in,” her quiet voice offers.

  Stepping inside, she’s still seated on the toilet, underwear at her ankles.

  “Oh baby,” I quietly say, lowering to a squat. “You know what this is, right?”

  She gives me a look like, of course she does, but her eyes are also full of panic. Do I let her know she’s a woman now? It’s scary and exciting, and it means her body can do amazing things at some point. When she’s older, of course. Much older.

  “Are you prepared for this? Do you have pads? Or did your mom mention tampons?”

  “I have stuff in my bag, but I was afraid to leave the toilet.”

  “Okay, honey. Let me get your things.”

  Slipping back out of the bathroom, I find her backpack and carry everything into the smaller space. Inside the pack, I find a change of underwear for her and a small zipper case with a few items inside.

  “You’re going to need more than this, but we can go to the store tomorrow. Your dad can get whatever you need.”

  “Can you do it?” she sheepishly asks.

  “Of course. But your dad knows about these things. You can talk to him about it or anything.” I’m confident I’m not speaking out of turn about her father. Despite his stricken expression downstairs, he’s got this with his daughter. For a moment, I’m sad Chloe missed out. This should be her domain, but she made her choice. “Or you can call your mom tomorrow.”

  “My mom’s in France, and there’s a time difference.” Her voice rings bitter, and I think better of having
mentioned Chloe.

  “Okay. You hand me the dirty pants, and you change.” Rinsing them out in Mila’s sink, I hang them discreetly beside a towel on the rod.

  “Where were you and Dad?” Lorna asks after concentrating on her fresh underwear and the new-to-her strangeness between her legs.

  “We went for a walk.”

  “Is he your boyfriend now?” The question catches me off guard, and I peer down at Lorna, who isn’t looking at me as she straightens her sleep shirt.

  “Um . . .”

  “Bethany Simone told me when a boy asks to walk you down the hallway, he wants to be your boyfriend. Did my dad ask you to be his girlfriend? That’s how it’s done now. I saw you kissing this morning. Bethany says when a boy kisses you, you’re his girlfriend.”

  Well, Miss Bethany . . . I don’t know what to say to Lorna, and she’s already lost so much with her mother’s choice to move away with her boyfriend. Will she be upset if her father has a new girlfriend?

  “Mom used to kiss Peter in front of me all the time. That’s how I knew he was her boyfriend.”

  I stare at her, wondering if that’s appropriate behavior. Did she mean a little soft kiss or full make-out sessions?

  “I don’t really like Peter, but I’m okay with you kissing Dad.”

  Okay then.

  “I really like your dad,” I try to reassure her, finally finding my voice.

  “He really likes you, too. He talks about you all the time.” She rolls her eyes, and I recall finding her outside the house before I saw Logan inside this morning. The girls were waiting for the moving van, drawing with chalk on the driveway. Lorna gave me a hug just like Mila did. Surprised to see her, I blurted out my first thought.

  “Are you staying in America?” It was a terrible question to ask her and could have triggered all kinds of things, but as Logan and I hadn’t spoken, I didn’t know what was happening for her. She told me her mother left last night. Then she ran back to Mila to continue her chalk art, and I stood there stunned.

  Chloe left her daughter behind, and Logan had Lorna full-time.

  I felt both elation for him and deflated for me.

  Then we made love on the landing, like crazed teens. Again. Yeah, I liked her father. I loved him.

  “I’m glad to hear your dad was talking about me, but let’s talk about you. What else do you need tonight? Do you have cramps? Headache? Backache?”

  Lorna twists her waist and then touches her temples as if she can’t decide which part hurts, if either.

  “I think backache.” I want to tell her it’s not multiple-choice, but I let it slide.

  “Let me get you some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” When Lorna hesitates, I add. “You can leave the bathroom.”

  Holding the door open, I step out of the smaller space. I have ibuprofen in my bag, which is downstairs. Stepping into the hallway, I find Logan standing just outside the door to Mila’s bedroom. His arms are full of supplies.

  “Hey. Is she okay?” He presses off the wall.

  “She’s fine. She wants to know if I’m your girlfriend, just asked me if we were off kissing, and then told me you were talking about me nonstop.”

  He softly chuckles. “Oh boy.”

  “Yeah. Do you think she’s going to be okay with us? Is it too much since her mother just ran off to France with her boyfriend?”

  “This is different. I’m not concerned. Don’t worry.” He firmly nods, and I want to absorb his confidence. There’s more at stake here than just Logan and me, though. “Now, how is my girl?”

  “She’s a young woman now, and you’re going to have your hands full because she’s so beautiful.”

  “I lov—” He catches himself, but the smile on his face at the compliment to his daughter says a lot. He’d tell me he loved me because I praised his child. It wouldn’t mean more.

  My eyes drift to his arms. “What’s all this?” I question to dismiss the nearly spoken words.

  “Ibuprofen for cramps. Peroxide for her underwear. Pads. Some chocolate. It’s the best I could find raiding Anna’s bathroom downstairs.”

  He’s such a good girl dad. Patting his chest, I state, “Let me go get a glass of water for her.” When I turn for the stairs, Logan calls out for me to stop.

  “I did talk about you all the time, and I’m going to be kissing you more.” Then he leans forward for another quick one before turning for his daughter in Mila’s room.

  28

  [Logan]

  “How’s my girl?” I ask as Lorna stands in Mila’s room.

  “Dad. I’m not a little girl anymore.” Did her first period just flip the switch on her attitude? I knew it was coming, but does it have to happen so quickly?

  “Okay, young lady,” I state, dropping my random wares on the bed. I step up to her and pull her against my chest, pressing a kiss to her hair. I mutter into the soft, fuzzy downs. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Autumn went to get me something.”

  I nod against her head. “I brought you ibuprofen, peroxide, and pads. What else do you need?” I can do this. I can discuss her period with her. I’ll just keep things vague.

  “Mom already set me up, but Autumn said she’d take me to the store tomorrow.”

  “I can take you,” I tell her, pulling back and holding her by her shoulders.

  “Dad,” she quietly groans. “Let Autumn take me.”

  “Okay. Okay. But you can ask me anything or tell me anything. I’m here for you.” In all ways possible, I’m here for my daughter.

  “I know, Daddy.”

  I press another kiss to her forehead and walk her over to her bed opposite Mila’s. In the time it’s taken for Autumn to help Lorna, Mila has crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. Does Mila know about these womanly things? Do I need to be worried that Lorna scarred her? Am I going to be okay as a girl dad? Can I do all this again with another child?

  When Autumn enters the room, the second I see her, I know the answer about another child, and I want it with her. Her reassuring smile tells me she’ll have parenthood handled, but so will I. I’ve already had eleven years of practice.

  “Here you go, lady,” Autumn says, handing over a small bottle of water.

  “Dad, are you still staying in the apartment with Mason tonight?” The question surprises me, and I tuck the blankets around her legs.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Just wanted to know where you are.” The statement breaks my heart a little as I don’t want her to be worried that I’ll leave her.

  “Autumn, are you staying here tonight, too?”

  I glance up at Autumn. Will she decide to stay down the hall? Could I sneak into her room and then cross the drive to Mason’s apartment in the morning?

  “No, baby. I’m going to my place tonight. Why? Do you need something else?”

  “But you’ll be back in the morning?” Lorna asks for reassurance, and I sense her fear of being left behind. I have a long road ahead of me with my child and the assurance she needs that I’m not going anywhere.

  Autumn reaches forward and cups Lorna’s face. “I’ll be here in the morning. What do you want for breakfast? We need to celebrate.”

  “What are we celebrating?” I ask like a dumbass.

  “Womanhood,” Autumn states, winking at a blushing Lorna.

  “Okay. Time for bed.” I check that her phone is on the stand and point at it. “Call me if you need anything.”

  I’ve had restless nights the last few weeks, worried I’d sleep through another desperate call from Lorna or, worse, get a call that Chloe kidnapped her. I didn’t want to think so poorly of my ex-wife, but she developed a deep fear in me.

  “Night, Dad,” Lorna says, nestling down into the blankets. “And thank you, Autumn.”

  “Anything you need, honey,” she sweetly responds to my little girl. My little woman, excuse me, and God help me.

  + + +

  I walk Autumn to her car, where we kiss hot and heavy for a few minutes befo
re she pulls back and settles into the driver’s seat. I don’t want her to go, and I fight a whine similar to Lorna’s, begging Autumn for reassurance that she’ll return. Instead, I press a hand to the window once she starts the car, and she matches mine on the other side of the glass before she sets the car in reverse and backs out of the drive.

  “Loverboy,” Mason announces once I enter the apartment above the garage. His voice slurs as he holds a bottle of tequila against his thigh. Shit.

  “What’s going on?” I say, collapsing on the couch next to Zack, whose eyes are half-mast.

  “We’re celebrating,” Zack says, or at least I think that’s what he said as it sounded more like celibating, but I’m certain he’s not going celibate.

  “And what are we celibating?” I tease.

  “Zack is divorcing Jeanine.” Mason holds up the tequila bottle in salute.

  My head swivels on the couch back. “What?”

  “My wife went to France to fuck an intern while I was on vacation here.”

  What the fuck is it with France?

  “He’s ten years younger than us. Aren’t I supposed to be the one looking for someone younger?” He slurs through the question.

  “You’re married. You aren’t supposed to be searching for anyone,” I remind him.

  “Is that what love and honor, and faithfulness in the vows mean? I no longer remember their definition.”

  Fuck. “Zack, man, I’m so sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as me.”

  I’m not convinced Zack really loved Jeanine as much as he wanted to do the right thing by marrying her. He wanted to be present for his children unlike his father, who wasn’t there for him. He wanted to offer Jeanine the support his father didn’t for his mother.

  “Loving someone sucks,” Mason states, and I narrow my eyes at him. What does he know about loving a woman? He’s never been in a serious relationship.

  “I didn’t love her.” Zack’s dismissive tone isn’t a surprise.