Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Autumn
It’s positively hilarious watching Forest squirm to answer Josephine’s question.
I am, of course, absolutely no help as I start shaking my top foot back and forth, the dangling gems of my ankle bracelet clinking together.
He’s just too easy to mess with, tugging at the collar of his—clean—white T-shirt, dressed down in nice denim jeans.
Bailey would be proud of me if she were here and could see how much I fluster Forest. My dress is her creation—one of the dozens she’s designed and sewn for me with expert precision.
Dad had tutted the whole way here when I wouldn’t change into something more casual. Mom had just shaken her head.
As for the pie, I hadn’t actually intended to make one, but surprisingly, Mom encouraged me—after I promised I wasn’t trying to jump into Forest’s bed.
Definitely not. As a Special Events Manager at a fancy hotel nearby, Mom is an expert at making people feel welcome, especially neighbors, since she regularly hosts parties at our home for the whole community.
She doesn’t expect anything less from her children.
Good thing she isn’t here, or she’d be disappointed in me.
Oh, Forest, Forest, Forest. Though he told me I’m “not his type,” he’s visibly struggling to ignore me throughout dinner, practically sweating as I shift my feet, crossing and uncrossing my ankles as I dig into my pizza.
He clears his throat, turning slightly to give me his back. In an effort to redirect Josephine’s focus, he says, “Why don’t you show Autumn the painting you’re working on?”
Josephine’s eyes light up, and she scoots from the bench, skipping down the hall. She’s shy when she returns, holding a canvas almost as large as she is, clutching it against her chest.
“Go on, show her,” Forest says.
“I’d love to see it,” I tell her, shifting Benjamin onto one knee when I swing my legs off the chair.
Josephine appears unsure until I give her my best encouraging smile, and she slowly turns the canvas around.
“Oh wow, it’s beautiful.” I motion her closer and lean forward as I study the watercolor painting.
It’s of a cowgirl who’s been unseated from the saddle on a bucking horse in the middle of a field of wildflowers.
“Truly, this is amazing. The amount of detail you’ve added, down to the smallest of flowers, is incredible.
” I mean it with my whole heart, blown away by how skilled she is at such a young age.
Forest beams with pride at his daughter. “It’s going to be her entry into the Rodeo art program at school.”
“I entered the competition every year when I was a kid, too,” I tell Josephine. As much as I love painting, it’s definitely not my calling, as it clearly is hers.
“You did?” Josephine ducks her head, her cheeks rosy with my praise.
“Sure did. I even won a few ribbons. But you… The way you blended the pinks and oranges of the sunset…” I say, pointing to the vibrant sky without touching the canvas.
“And here, the shadows you added beneath her hat and behind the horse… It’s perfect and gives your painting the depth it needs for them to come to life.
You’re so talented, you’re going to win first place in your division. ”
She bounces on her toes. “You really think I can win?”
“Absolutely, I do,” I say with my whole chest, reaching for her arm to squeeze it gently. “Next time, I’ll bring my watercolor pencils, and maybe we can work on something together. I bet you could teach me a thing or two.”
“Okay.” She hugs her painting, twisting side to side before she runs back to her room.
“Next time?” Forest asks with the tilt of his head.
My smile drops. Shit. I basically just volunteered to babysit again, and there’s no way I’ll go back on my word to Josephine by trying to get out of it. Plus, Sebastian and Benjamin are pretty sweet and cute, so watching them isn’t the worst thing in the world.
Forest must know it, too, since he’s suddenly grinning from ear to ear.
He won’t be when he finds out how much I’m going to charge him for tonight.
I startle awake, as does Benjamin, when a flash of light flickers behind my eyelids. I’d fallen asleep in the recliner in the darkened nursery with Benjamin sprawled out on top of me, his chubby cheek warm on my upper chest, his head tucked under my chin.
“Sorry,” Forest whispers, fumbling to pocket his phone, staring at me without blinking once.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I say with a scathing but low whisper.
“I’m not—”
Shooting Forest a glare that I hope he can see, thanks to the soft blue nightlight, I hum a lullaby, willing Benjamin to settle back to sleep.
I don’t want to risk waking Sebastian if he were to start crying.
After tonight, it’s all the more obvious why Forest had looked like a wreck at the grocery store—it took hours to get Sebastian to bed.
And I don’t blame the kid either. My heart broke for him as he cried for his mommy and daddy, and I had to hold back plenty of my own tears as I held him as much as he would let me.
“What were you doing?” I sing quietly as I rock the recliner back and forth.
Forest scratches the back of his neck. “Nothing.”
“Did you take a picture of me?”
“No,” he whispers loudly, making Benjamin jerk.
“Shhh!” I rub Benjamin’s back. “I saw the flash. You took a picture. I want to see it.”
Forest says simply, “Your dad is here.”
Peering at Sebastian, tucked into his little bed, I cut my eyes back to Forest and lift my hand. “I’m not leaving until you show me your phone,” I sing.
Forest steps back, pressing his palm to his pocket. “No.”
I make a gesture for him to hand it over.
With the countenance of a frightened animal, he finally confesses, “I took a picture of the kids, that’s it.”
“If that’s it, then why won’t you show me your phone?”
“Autumn?” Dad asks loudly from down the hallway.
Forest looks relieved, one corner of his lips tugging up. He might be off the hook for now, but I’ll find a way to look at his phone soon. I’d better not find any weird feet pics.
I peek at Benjamin, whose tiny mouth is parted as he breathes evenly. He gives my nieces and nephews a run for their money in the adorable department. I try my luck by sitting up slowly, but he startles once more, and I have to resort to humming again.
“Help me,” I tell Forest a few minutes later when he just stands there, continuing to watch me like a Peeping Tom.
Slowly, he slides his hands under Benjamin and accidentally skates his fingers along my breasts and lower stomach. I press my lips together, holding back the gasp trying to bubble forth…as well as the urge to arch my back and press my breasts against his warm hand. What is wrong with me?
“Sorry, sorry,” Forest whispers urgently, lifting his son. “I didn’t mean to—”
I shush him, point to the crib, and all but sprint from the nursery and down the hall, my stomach clenching with unexpected heat. I nearly collide with my dad.
He grabs my arms, ducking down to see my face. “Whoa, are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” I say, smoothing out my dress. “Just couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“Why? Did something happen?” Dad shoots his eyes up over my shoulder with a frown when we hear Forest pad down the hallway.
“No, no,” I say. “The boys just had a hard time falling asleep, and I’m worn out.”
“Hmm.” The men eye each other silently until Dad suddenly asks, “You play?” He points to one of the built-in bookcases that brackets the stone fireplace, a TV hanging from above the rough-hewn mantel.
He plucks a hardback RPG handbook roughly the size of a college textbook from the middle shelf and thumbs through it.
Oh no.
Forest must have unpacked more of the house while I was in the nursery.
His bookcases are inundated with—oh god—hand-painted miniature medieval knights, warlocks, and swords the length of toothpicks.
I count three different custom sets of polyhedral dice on display, and a leather-bound binder that I’m ninety-nine percent certain contains a treasured trading card collection.
“Used to,” Forest says. “But it’s been a few years. I was hoping to find a group—”
I groan. Please, god, no.
Forest gives me a questioning look. “Once we moved here, but with the boys being so young, it’ll probably be a while until I can play again.”
“You’re just in luck,” Dad says, all traces of hostility wiped clean, just like that. “I have a group with my sons-in-law and a few friends. It’s my turn to host game night next Saturday. Why don’t you join us? I can introduce you to the crew.”
Aw hell. I know that look. Dad is on the fast track to making a new best friend…with my aggravating boss.
Forest’s brows shoot up to his hairline. “Yeah, that sounds great.” Then they fall. “Oh, but the kids—”
Dad snaps the book closed with a goofy smile. “The ladies who don’t want to play usually get together to watch the kids, and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind watching yours, too.” He gives me his best puppy-dog eyes. “Right, Autumn?”
I cross my arms. “No, I don’t mind,” I say with a tired sigh. I’ve given him enough hell this week that I feel like I ought to throw him a bone.
“Knew I could count on you,” Dad says, tugging me into his side to kiss my crown. “This is going to be great!”
“But you’re going to owe me,” I tell Forest. Gathering my purse from the couch, I pull out my phone and make some quick calculations. “For tonight, it’s two-seventy-five.”
Forest gapes at me. “For what?”
“Babysitting.” Duh, I add silently.
“Three hundred dollars for babysitting?”
“No. Two hundred and seventy-five.” I lift my chin. “Twenty per hour for one kid, fifteen dollars for each additional kid, times five and a half hours.” I threw in the cost of watching Josephine, though I didn’t do much, just for the hell of it.
Dad coughs into his fist. “She’s kidding, of course. Come on,” he says, putting a hand on my back to steer me to the front door.
Forest grins, pulling his phone from his pocket. “No, no. I ought to give her something for her time.” He’s wearing a tiny smirk when my phone chimes. The asshole sent me two dollars and seventy-five cents, along with the middle finger and angel emojis.
“Asshole,” I mouth to him behind Dad’s back, giving him both my middle fingers, instead of further embarrassing Dad by getting into an argument with his new best friend.
“Thanks again for your help, Autumn. Already looking forward to game night,” Forest says when we leave.
“Same here!” Dad shouts as we cross the street.
Letting Dad pull ahead of me, I twirl and shoot Forest both middle fingers again.
He acts as if I blew him kisses, pretends to snatch them out of the air, and presses them to his chest. His deep laugh follows me all the way home.