The Edge of Autumn

by Rachel Auld

  “If you’re that cold, you can have your coat back!” she offered with a grin.

  “Nonsense,” I replied haughtily. “Real men do not get cold.”

  She gave a most unladylike snort and my heart swelled. “Watch it, Holmes. We’re barely into October and it’s going to get a whole lot colder!” she warned.

  I waggled my eyebrows at her. “Good thing I’ll have you to keep me warm, hmm?” I sidled closer and nuzzled the spot beneath her ear.

  Her responding giggle turned to a sigh and I drew back just far enough to kiss her. The chill was forgotten within the space of a minute; hell, I forgot about the dance entirely in that time, lost in the softness of her skin and the sweet taste of her mouth. Her hand slid around my neck, the light touch of her fingertips causing me to shiver involuntarily.

  “Still cold?” she murmured against my lips.

  I cocked my head for a moment, trying to remember how to form words. “Errm,” I managed.

  Sara’s grip on the back of my neck tightened to pull me into another mind-boggling kiss. It was only when her stomach growled loudly that we broke apart. Even in the dark, I could tell she was blushing fiercely, but she lifted her chin regally and said, “Diner. Dessert. Let’s go.”

  I bowed my head and buckled my seatbelt. “Your wish is my command, most beauteous lady.”

  The sound of her laughter filled the car as we made the short drive to The Ruby. I felt like an addict, unable to stop myself from saying whatever I thought would entertain her just to hear the sound of her delight once more. We parked in the tiny lot beside the diner and I insisted she wear my coat inside. She rolled her eyes at me but slipped her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around herself like a robe.

  Walking into the diner with Sara at my side felt like coming home. I inhaled deeply, appreciating the aroma of pancakes and coffee and grilled cheese, all mingled into that deliciously unique combination that I’d loved for so long. Sara didn’t roll her eyes this time, nor did she look embarrassed or amused by my reaction—I watched as she closed her eyes and took a long breath. I’d spent the last week avoiding even the thought of the “L word” but in that moment, I felt like I had found my soulmate. It took a monumental amount of effort to keep myself from blurting it out then and there.

  “I haven’t been here in forever,” Sara whispered. “Oh my God, it smells so good in here. Will you think less of me if I eat an entire pie by myself?”

  I kissed her forehead, winked, and replied, “I’d think less of you if you didn’t.”

  Lacey popped her head out of the kitchen. “I’ll be right—” she began, then stopped dead when she saw Sara at my side. Her shocked expression melted into a wide, welcoming smile. “Sara, honey! Get over here!” She hurried out from behind the counter and drew Sara against her ample bosom. “It’s about time you came around!”

  Sara’s eyes glistened with tears and she offered a watery smile. “Yeah,” she said softly, “it is.”

  My brows shot up in query, but Lacey led us hastily to my favorite booth and grabbed menus for us. She knew very well that I didn’t need one, but it appeared that Sara didn’t either.

  “I’d like some chocolate cream pie and a chai latté, please,” she said politely, ignoring the menu.

  Lacey winked at her. “And you, handsome?”

  Sara giggled and I said, “I’ll have the same, please.”

  “You got it, back in a jiff!” Lacey said brightly as she swept the unused menus from the table and headed for the kitchen.

  I regarded Sara steadily across the table, waiting for her to speak. “I used to come here with my dad,” she said finally, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “My mom isn’t the diner type, so it became a daddy-daughter date location for us, I guess. I haven’t been back here since the accident, it just felt too . . . lonely, I guess.”

  I took her hands in mine, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. This felt like destiny, though in such a small town, coincidence was probably a more likely culprit. I had told her of my penchant for greasy spoon diners during one of our long discussions, but I realized now I’d never mentioned The Ruby, nor the embarrassing frequency of my visits here since school started. She’d brought up the diner as our post-dance plan for the evening, I remembered, and the significance of it hit me like a blow to the stomach.

  “And now?” I asked softly.

  Her smile was as brilliant as ever, devoid of any sadness or regret. “Not so lonely anymore,” she conceded, squeezing my hands.

  The depth of the emotion that flooded me would have been startling if it hadn’t been so overwhelmingly delicious. I could only smile back at her like a loon until Lacey appeared beside the table and set an entire pie between us, followed by two plates and two steaming mugs.

  “You two enjoy,” she said, winking when I glanced over to thank her. “Take your time!”

  I cut two generous pieces of pie and served them up, waggling my eyebrows at Sara. “Oh, we will,” I promised softly.

  There’s something inherently attractive about watching your girlfriend devour pie like it’s going out of style. I was no slouch when it came to shoveling food into my mouth, which made our mutual pie-destruction feel like a match made in teenage heaven. I finished first, setting down my fork to take a sip of steaming tea. Sara followed suit, daintily wiping a stray wisp of whipped cream from her lips. She laid her head back against the turquoise vinyl cushion behind her.

  “I’ve failed you,” she said, closing her eyes. “I can’t eat another bite.” She peeked out from under impossibly long eyelashes. “Well . . . at least not in the next two minutes.”

  I laughed, admiring the way the cushion offset the copper tendrils surrounding her face. She must have seen the look in my eyes because she blushed slightly beneath the fluorescent lights overhead. I couldn’t stop smiling at her—so strong, so beautiful, so right. I held my hands out across the table and she sat forward to take them.

  “Thank you,” I said softly. “I know it wasn’t picture perfect, but I had a great time tonight.”

  An impish grin lit her face. “So did I,” she admitted. “I didn’t expect so many friendly faces, to be honest. I feel like a total jerk for assuming the worst of everyone.” Guilt clouded her pretty features and I gave her hands a squeeze.

  “What’s past is past, sweetheart,” I assured her gently. “You were spectacular tonight and I think the future is brighter than ever.”

  She nodded, tilting her head thoughtfully. “I hadn’t really thought about the rest of the weekend,” she mused. “The carnival and the kickoff parade are tomorrow. Is that too much socializing for one weekend?”

  I laughed. “You’re the unsocialized homeschooler, you tell me,” I teased.

  Sara snatched her hands away to throw a napkin at me. “Watch it, punk,” she growled. I figured she had no idea just how sexy she sounded, but I bit my lip to keep from making any lewd reply when I saw Lacey headed our way.

  “If you get us kicked out of here,” I warned, “I will rely on you to cater to my every diner-related need.”

  She cocked her head. “Well, if those are the only needs you want me to cater to, I guess I could invest in some new frying pans . . .” She trailed off and smiled brightly when Lacey arrived at the table to offer refills. We politely refused more tea, but I served us each another slice of pie as she walked away.

  “You’re almost unbearably attractive, did you know that?” I murmured politely as I set one on her plate.

  Sara’s mouth gaped slightly before she raised a brow at me. “Almost?”

  I grinned shamelessly. “Well, yes, since I absolutely can and will bear it,” I conceded. I winked and took a bite of pie.

  “You,” she muttered, digging into her own. “You think you’re so smooth. Someday I might just put you in your place, mister.”

  “Hmm,” I sighed. “As long as that place is with you, I’ll take it.”

  Her expression softened as she fought back a smile. “Thank
you, Travis,” she said softly. “For everything. These last few weeks have been some of the best of my life.”

  I reached across the table to tuck a curl behind her ear. “These last few weeks have undeniably been the best of my life,” I told her honestly. “I thought things were going pretty well, but I had no idea what I was missing before I met you.”

  For a moment, we just gazed at each other, that magnetic pull between us turning into an almost palpable force. The bubble burst when the diner’s front bell jingled and several obviously tipsy juniors stumbled in, giggling and waving at us before piling into a booth near the door. I lifted a brow in silent question and Sara downed another bite of pie before sliding out of the booth. I tucked several bills under the salt shaker on the table, raised a hand in thanks to Lacey as she took the other table’s order, and we headed back into the night.

  CHAPTER 20: Later Friday Night

  When we were once again safely ensconced within the confines of my mother’s car, I cranked the heat and shifted to angle my body toward Sara. I’d bundled her into my coat again and she looked utterly breathtaking there in the lamplight. I could admire her for hours, I thought, studying every nuance of her sweet face, each curve and shadow.

  “Are you just going to look at me, or were you planning to kiss me again before this century’s over?” she asked, an impertinent smirk on her lips.

  I knew she was teasing but was certainly not going to turn down an opening like that. I slid closer and kissed her until the smirk turned into a dazed passion that enveloped us both. I fought down a primal urge to touch her, feel her skin under my fingertips—we’d agreed to take that side of things slowly and heaven knew the front seat of my mom’s car was not anywhere near the romantic setting I was determined to provide when the time came. By the time the kiss ended, the heat had kicked on enough that our breath was no longer visible. We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, an inch apart, staring into each other’s eyes and feeling like we were the only people on the planet, parked on that cold, dark street.

  Reluctantly, Sara leaned back in her seat. “Well. What now?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “What time do you think you should be home? I gotta stay on your mom’s good side,” I said with a wink.

  She laughed as she buckled her seatbelt. “Oh, please. One more home-cooked meal and I’m pretty sure she’ll choose you over me!”

  “Is it my fault you never learned to cook?” I teased. “Don’t they teach home ec in this state?” Her small fist thwacked against my shoulder. “Oh right, homeschooled,” I conceded, grinning over at her.

  “You better watch it, bucko,” she warned, a wicked gleam in her eye.

  I caught her fist in my hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “One of these days, you’ll have to voice the whole threat,” I told her.

  “Hmm,” she mused, the sound deep and warm and smooth as silk. A tingle danced across my skin. She studied me from beneath long, dark lashes, a smile playing on her lips. A long moment passed before she finally said, “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to wait until that day to find out what it is.”

  “Does that mean you plan to keep me around for a while?” I asked, letting my lips brush back and forth across the back of her hand.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, yes,” she whispered in reply, dropping her head back against the seat as a blissful smile crept across her face. “I hope that suits you?”

  I couldn’t hold back a wide, goofy grin. “Damn skippy,” I heartily agreed, leaning over to kiss her more thoroughly once more before buckling my own seatbelt. “Where to, boss?” I asked, shifting the car into gear.

  We ended up cruising slowly down to the town square, a small stretch of grass at the eastern end of Main Street. The area was deserted but lit up like Christmas by hundreds of twinkling lights strung through every tree and across the perimeter of lampposts surrounding the square. I pulled the car over to the side of the road and we were silent for a time, soaking up the magical quality of stillness and silence and strands of tiny lights dancing in the breeze. Sara’s hand crept into mine and she laid her head on my shoulder.

  “Do you believe in fate?” she asked, her voice quiet and so serious that my eyes widened in surprise before I looked down at her. She stared out at the lights, not meeting my gaze.

  I studied her features for a moment before looking out to the square, twinkling before us. I had asked myself the same question time and again since meeting her, but I hadn’t quite found the answer. Sitting there in the dark, fingers entwined with hers, I felt the answer bubbling up inside of me.

  “Yeah,” I said honestly. “I do.”

  She squeezed my hand ever so slightly. “Me too,” she whispered. “Before you, life felt like a series of events that just . . . happened. Now I wonder if it all had a purpose.”

  I was neither stupid nor vain enough to ever suggest that her father’s death had somehow led her to me, but I couldn’t deny feeling that every moment of my life had somehow been leading up to finding her. “I don’t think life is scripted out for us, but I do think certain things are just meant to be,” I said, pressing a kiss against her temple. “Seeing you was like a bolt of lightning striking me right in the chest.”

  At that, she turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “In the bookstore?”

  A sheepish grin tugged at my lips. “No, the day before,” I admitted, hoping this would sound cute instead of creepy. “Nelson and I were at The Ruby and you walked by in the rain. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, even though I could barely see through the raindrops on the window. Something just hit me.” I searched her face, looking for any sign that I had completely freaked her out. Instead, with a smile on her lips and the reflection of the lights dancing in her eyes, she looked almost angelically peaceful. I caressed her cheek and though I couldn’t see it in the dim light, the warmth of her skin made me think she must be blushing.

  “Fate,” she said softly.

  I nodded, kissing her until all I could hear was my heartbeat in my own ears. “Fate,” I agreed.

  CHAPTER 21: The End of Friday Night

  I brought Sara home before midnight, making her laugh with a Cinderella comparison as I walked her to the front door. We both knew her mom would be sitting in the kitchen, eager to hear how the night had gone, but she graciously waited there instead of meeting us at the door. I took Sara’s hands in mine and she grinned at me in the porchlight.

  “Thank you,” I said, the words coming out more serious than I’d intended with the weight of my sincerity. “I know this wasn’t an easy thing for you.” I wanted to say more, convey the honor I felt she had bestowed upon me with her trust, but I couldn’t quite articulate it.

  She seemed to understand the words I didn’t say, though. She kissed me with a fierce joy that said more than any speech could convey, then wrapped me in a tight hug. “The best things in life are never easy,” she said against my ear.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I murmured back, reluctantly dropping my arms when she stepped back. “Sweet dreams,” I said, kissing her forehead.

  Sara gave me one last brilliant smile before letting herself inside. “I’ll see you in the morning?” she asked, lingering in the doorway.

  I wanted to fall to my knees and profess undying love, but I forced myself to stay upright. “I’ll be here at ten,” I promised, lifting my hand in farewell. She blew me a kiss and shut the door behind her, leaving me to walk slowly back to the car, lost in thoughts of her, of us, of past and future and fate.

  I drove home in silence, hearing every word from the evening echoing in my ears with analytical detachment. Another hurdle crossed, another step closer to . . . what? Peace? Acceptance? I wasn’t sure what awaited either one of us at the end of this road, but senior year would be over before we knew it and I had no doubt that there was more to this life than small town high school drama.

  My parents were snuggled up on the couch when I got home, clearly trying to look like
they hadn’t been waiting up to hear about the dance. I gave them a rather vague account of it, just enough to satisfy their curiosity without inviting further questions, and was finally excused to head up to bed. Sleep didn’t come easy, though exhaustion hit the minute I fell into bed. Words like “fate” and “love” kept dancing through my mind.

  Eventually, philosophical ponderings faded into nothingness and I slept more deeply than I could ever remember sleeping before.

  CHAPTER 22: Saturday

  Saturday morning dawned bright and clear; the town couldn’t have asked for better weather for the Apple Festival. I showered and dressed, feeling inexplicably nervous about seeing Sara this morning—almost as if it were our first date. I squashed down the uncomfortable butterflies with a bowl of cereal and a swig of orange juice before heading over to Sara’s house.

  My nerves had calmed somewhat by the time I pulled into her driveway. Sara sat on the porch steps, soaking up the morning sunshine in ripped jeans and a pale blue tee shirt as she flipped the pages of a fat paperback novel. She glanced up with a smile, folding a corner to mark her page, and tossed the book onto the top step before rising to her feet. How someone so short could unfold such long, gorgeous legs, I had no clue. In stark contrast to her sultry, sexy look the night before, today she looked fresh and wholesome, the very image of a small town girl off to celebrate the apple harvest with her long-haired yipyap of a boyfriend.

  She cocked a copper brow as she walked up and kissed me through the open window. “What are you smirking about?”

  I tried to look innocent. “Smirking? Me? Certainly not! I was simply admiring your bountiful charms.” I waggled my eyebrows at her.

  “Uh huh,” she responded, leaning down for a more lingering kiss before she skipped around to the passenger door and slid in.

  I rested my head against the seat back, eyeing her with sincere appreciation. “And what bounty,” I drawled.