Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gabriel
It had been almost a week since I’d been with Autumn, but I’d barely seen her.
I couldn’t wait to get home tonight. I’d have missed dinner with Bethany, but I would get to put her to bed at least. I unlocked the door, went inside, and was greeted by music coming from the living room.
“Hello,” I called but no answer. It wasn’t bath time yet. Where were they?
I set down my things and took off my coat and went to investigate.
I poked my head around the door to find Autumn sitting on the floor, her back against the sofa, surrounded by pillows and a duvet over her. She was grinning up at Bethany who was dancing in front of the TV.
“Good evening,” I said, wondering what the hell was going on.
“Daddy!” A pajamaed Bethany squealed and ran into my arms, officially making it the best part of my day so far.
“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” Autumn said, smiling at me.
“It’s movie night,” Bethany explained. “We have popcorn.”
I glanced at the coffee table, covered in plates and drinks.
“We made it in the mic-wave.”
“This is very cozy,” I said as Bethany put her arms around my neck and squeezed. I swear the girl was half-human, half-anaconda.
“Come join us,” Autumn said, patting the floor next to her.
“Yes, Daddy. Eat popcorn. Please stay and don’t work.”
How could I say no to an invitation like that? “Okay but you’ve got to tell me what I’m meant to do.”
Autumn laughed. “You need instructions to relax, watch a movie, and eat popcorn?” She shook her head. “It seems we have some work to do on your daddy, Bethany.”
“In my defense, it looks like you have more going on here than that.”
“You want in?” She lifted the duvet.
“Yes, Daddy. You have to be under the duvet if you’re sitting down.”
Autumn shrugged. “The rules are the rules.” She offered me the bowl of popcorn and I shuffled under the duvet and took it from her.
“This was dinner?” I asked as I toed off my shoes and took a seat next to Autumn, making sure I wasn’t touching her in case that freaked Bethany. I didn’t want it to look like I was deliberately not touching her either.
“We had an early dinner,” Autumn replied. “This is Friday night after-dinner snacks. We have a fruit platter as well. You don’t need to worry.”
“And hummus crunchies,” Bethany said, trampling over our outstretched feet, finding something that looked vaguely like a crisp, and bringing it back and handing it to me. “They’re yummy.”
I took the crisp and took a bite. Not because I was hungry or curious but because my daughter wanted me to. “Yummy,” I said. “So what’s the film?”
“You have to call it movie, Daddy. Like Autumn.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling at her. At this rate she’d have an American accent by the end of the month. “What movie are we watching.”
“Singing and Dancing,” Bethany said, and I groaned. Not a musical.
“Singin’ in the Rain,” Autumn said. “Like I said, she’s four. She should know these songs by heart.”
“Yes, I remember. I’m a terrible father for neglecting her musicals education.”
Autumn’s smile was like a physical touch. It filled her face, lit up the room, and warmed my soul. “Well, at least you’re aware and willing to put things right. Or at least have me put them right.”
“I might leave you to it,” I said, shifting to get up. There was always work to do. “I hate musicals.”
“Sit your butt back down,” Autumn said.
“Butt, butt, butt, butt.” Bethany started jumping on the spot.
“No one hates Singin’ in the Rain,” Autumn declared. “It’s impossible. And if you’ve never seen it, you can’t say you hate it.”
“It’s sooo good, Daddy.”
“I can hate it,” I said. “I got dragged to see Cats once when it was in the West End. Was up there as one of the worst experiences of my life.”
“Well, Jiminy Cricket, Bethany, what a terrible life your father has had. But what he doesn’t know is that movie musicals are different from stage musicals.
And Singin’ in the Rain is the best movie musical of all time.
” She turned to me. “You hated the show Cats. It doesn’t mean you hate all movie musicals. You can’t write things off like that.”
“Why would I waste my time? It’s not like I’m Sam I am. I’ve tried them. I just don’t like them.”
Autumn burst into a laugh. “That’s a perfect name for you—Sam I Am.”
I wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless for teasing me. No one ever dared to tease me. “I’m the opposite of Sam I Am. I’ve already had green eggs and ham.” Oh Christ, I was rhyming now.
“Nope. You saw one musical. One time. Broaden your horizons. Give them another shot. The genre deserves a second chance to impress you.”
She was relentless. I loosened my tie and resigned myself to at least half an hour of hell. After that, surely she’d agree I’d eaten my green eggs and ham. “Okay then. Do your worst, put it on.”
“You’ll stay?” Bethany said. “You don’t have to work?” She landed on my lap with a thud, and I pulled her so she was leaning against my front.
It pinched at my heart that Bethany assumed I’d have to work rather than stay with her and watch a film on a Friday night. I wanted to provide for her and be a good role model, but she should know that I’d rather hang out with her than do anything else in this moment.
“Only if I get some popcorn,” I replied.
“You can have all of it. Can’t he, Autumn?”
“Yes, he can,” she replied.
“You’re going to love this movie so much, Daddy.”
What I was going to love was sitting with my warm, snuggly daughter in my lap, next to one of the most beautiful, bright, kind women I’d ever met.
Every now and then, Autumn would glance at me and smile, seemingly glad that I was making the effort to stay and enjoy the film. Intermittently, Bethany would get up and dance to the music and we’d applaud her and she’d curtsey.
Just as we were getting toward the end, Autumn sat up straight. “This is it. Are you ready?” She glanced at Bethany. “Fingers on lips.”
Dutifully, Bethany put her index finger across her lips and drew her knees up to her chin.
Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds gathered in a doorway to shelter from the rain. Apparently something important was about to happen.
We all held our breath as Autumn stared dreamily at the screen.
“Gah,” Autumn said as music started playing. “That is the most romantic line in movie history—‘This California dew is just a little heavier than usual tonight.’”
Gene Kelly was dancing his way down the rainy street. “Is that romantic?” Maybe I was missing something.
“Not that line. The next one when he says ‘Really? From where I stand the sun is shining all over the place.’”
I didn’t laugh because I could tell she was serious, but it took some effort.
She glanced at me and then shifted toward me when she saw I didn’t agree. “What? You don’t think it’s romantic?”
“You don’t think it’s a little . . . cheesy?”
She groaned as if I was the stupidest person on earth. “It’s not cheesy if you’re so in love with someone that you can’t even tell it’s raining.”
“I think if you’re out in a rainstorm like that and you can’t tell it’s raining, you need to go to the doctor.”
She shook her head and folded her arms. “Such a cynic.”
We watched the rest of the movie in silence, and I couldn’t tell if she was completely engrossed or smarting at my comment.
“You see,” Autumn said, as the credits started to roll. “Wasn’t it just the greatest?” She grinned as if she was having the best time of her life.
“It’s not as bad as Cats,” I said, hoping that would be enough to placate her.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a phenomenal movie.”
She was phenomenal.
“Although, second time around it looks like it put your daughter to sleep,” she said.
I glanced down at the comfortable tangle of limbs in my lap. She hadn’t fallen asleep on me like that since she was a baby. It seemed like yesterday and at the same time, so long ago. That first year of Bethany’s life I thought I’d finally got the perfect family and now here I was, a single father.
“It’s late,” I said, looking at the clock. “Just gone eight.”
“Another wild, crazy Friday night.”
For a brief second, I wanted to ask her what her Friday nights were like back in America.
Had they been wild and crazy? Is that what she wanted?
Parties, being up all night? I stopped myself.
I shouldn’t be thinking about what Autumn was looking for.
I could deal with right now and not a moment in the future.
We’d not talked about the fact that we’d had sex.
I’d been tied up at work and we’d barely seen each other.
And I didn’t know what to say. For so long I’d kept that side of myself locked away, but Autumn had come along and bulldozed her way into my life.
Into my heart. And although I had a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t touch her again, whenever I was near her, none of them seemed to matter.
I reached out with one hand and cupped Autumn’s face. “You look beautiful,” I said, stroking my thumb against her cheek. She slid her hand over mine.
“It was nice that you stayed. Thank you.”
“How could I say no?” I asked, wondering if I could dive into those deep brown eyes of hers.
I removed my hand. “I need to get this one to bed,” I said as I stood. “Can you bring Bear Bear?”
“Sure,” she said, scooping the toy up and following me as I headed upstairs.
I laid Bethany in bed and pressed a kiss against her cheek, tucking Bear Bear under her arm. God, I loved her so much. All the pain with Penelope was worth it to have such a miracle in my life every day. I was so lucky.
“She’s beautiful,” Autumn said from behind me. I turned and headed over to where she was leaning against the doorframe.
“She certainly is. Thank you for taking such good care of her.”
“I have the best job ever—eating popcorn and watching musicals with the cutest kid alive.”
I chuckled as we shifted and I closed Bethany’s bedroom door.
“I’ve been thinking about the other night,” I said, not quite sure what was going to come next.
Her shoulders slouched and she groaned like it was the worst possible thing I could have said. “Don’t say it, Gabriel.”
“I haven’t said anything,” I replied, confused.
She turned her back and headed down the landing to the stairs.
What was happening? “Autumn,” I said, catching up with her and putting my hand on her arm. “What did I say?”
She stopped and turned and she looked so sad, so disappointed. It felt like a blow to my chest that I might have caused that. “It’s not what you said, it was what you were about to say. You were going to say how it wouldn’t happen again and it’s not right and—”
I pulled her toward me, pushed my hand into her hair, and dragged my lips against hers. I delved into her mouth with my tongue, my skin buzzed at her sweetness, my chest lifted at the feel of her. She just felt so right.
She pulled away slightly. “Did I jump to conclusions?”
I wasn’t sure why a woman who seemed to live on life’s bright side would expect me to go back on my word.
Her assumption hinted that perhaps the woman who was all sunshine was in fact constantly expecting rain.
“You don’t need to doubt me,” I said. “I was just going to suggest you might not want to broadcast what happened between us. Until we have a chance to figure it out.” I didn’t know what was happening or how I felt, and I wasn’t going to lie to Autumn and pretend I did.
But I also knew some kind of watershed had been crossed and there was no going back.
More than that, I didn’t want to go back.
“Right,” she said, smoothing her hand up my chest. “I haven’t told anyone.”
“I just got my divorce papers recently. I have a kid. A demanding job. I can’t—”
“Your divorce papers?” she asked.
“Yes. It’s been years but the paperwork hasn’t caught up.”
She swallowed and nodded. “So there’s no chance you’ll be getting back together with her?”
Were those the rainclouds she was looking for?
“We were over the moment she walked out, and I haven’t seen her since.
The divorce is just procedural. But it’s something I need to get done.
Between Bethany and my job, my plate is full.
And I’m not sure what I can offer you. I won’t make promises to anyone and I don’t expect any in return.
” It was as honest as I’d ever been with anyone.
I wasn’t sure how to fit her into my carefully constructed, fiercely protected world.
“I’m not asking for anything,” she said. “Let’s just deal with right now.”
Somehow Autumn always knew the right thing to say. I nodded and she brought her hands up my arms, trailing a shiver across my body.
“And right now,” she said. “I have a huge crush on my boss.”
I chuckled. Yes, that would do for now. A mutual crush. Something that would pass or fade without drama or significance. I would take her advice and just deal with the moment right in front of me. And all I could see was a beautiful woman I was helplessly attracted to, saying she wanted me too.
I pressed my thumb over her lips in a straight line over her chin and down her neck and between her breasts. “I want to taste you.”
She took my hand and linked her fingers through mine.
“I’ll warn you now, I’m sure I taste like hot, buttered popcorn.
” She seemed to have an almost magical ability to turn a difficult moment into something easy, to create light where there was dark.
Perhaps she’d be able to breathe life into a cold, damaged heart that had been in hibernation for a very long time.
And perhaps I’d be able to shield her from any impending rain clouds. Just for the time being.