Chapter 11 #2
The shop that used to hold various bits of broken-down equipment Dad had never fixed had been cleared out and cleaned up.
When had that happened? Definitely wasn’t in the last twenty-four hours.
The walls were clear. The pegboard that had held all sorts of tools was bare. Someone had painted too.
Where’d he gotten the money to hire all this out?
Mae had arrived with two men I’d never seen before.
Autumn introduced them as Myles’s brothers, Cruz and Lane.
They were much younger than him, and from what Autumn had told me, while we’d filled our glasses with punch, they’d started working for Mae in the last two years.
She’d said they hadn’t known Myles growing up and Myles hadn’t known they existed.
The rest of the Baileys who’d been at Autumn’s house to berate her were here but with their kids this time.
I’d sort of met Myles and Wynter’s baby, Elsa, but I wasn’t prepared to see so many little people.
A lanky teen boy made sure a little girl in a twirly dress didn’t drag a small toddler outside to get into whatever trouble they could find.
Those kids were Tate’s. I didn’t care to see him as a happy family man. Just like I didn’t want to witness the smitten way he gazed at his wife.
I took another drink of punch. No alcohol. Not in the punch and not anywhere in the shop.
I could start to believe Dad was sober when he acted like this.
I had expected Autumn to mingle with her sisters, but she was glued to my side.
Tate’s wife approached us with a pleasant smile. She’d arrived with Tate, and Autumn had introduced her as Scarlett.
I smoothed my hand down Autumn’s back as she chatted with Scarlett.
Dad approached. “I hope you don’t mind the sandwiches. I thought it’d be easier to throw together at the last minute.”
“The party didn’t have to be at the last minute.”
A flash of hurt faded in his eyes. Right after, a burn ignited behind my sternum. I hadn’t eaten yet, but my heartburn didn’t care.
“I can still be a little impulsive,” he said roughly. “I was happy to have you home and then to find out it was for this.” His fond smile was aimed at Autumn.
“I’ll be around for a while.” Once the land sale was stopped, I was out. The board didn’t like their CEO gone for long. They were already sending semi-panicked messages.
“That’s music to these old ears.” He brushed his fingers down his freshly trimmed beard. The longer parts of his horseshoe mustache blended with the rest of his facial hair. “You two want to come out some night? Just us for a quiet meal?”
I didn’t want to see how the house had changed. How he had ruined any memory of Mom like he’d wrecked the ranch she was so proud of. “I’ll talk to Autumn.”
She turned into me. I was acutely aware of how the side of her breast was pushed into my side. I had almost ripped her damn bra off to get at those creamy tits.
“Hank invited us for supper,” I explained.
“Oh? What night?”
“Any night you want,” Dad answered. He sounded so damn excited. My heartburn grew more intense.
“We’d love to,” she gushed and I didn’t think she was doing it for show. “I’m not sure how this week will work though. I go back to work tomorrow, and the music teacher and I will be getting ready for the program Thursday night. I work at the bar on Wednesdays and on the weekends.”
She worked nights and weekends? I was prepared to work from her kitchen table during the day, but the disappointment that she’d be gone for some nights increased my reflux.
“I’ve got meetings Wednesday nights, but yeah, let’s plan for another week.” Dad’s smile was kind.
What meeting did he have? Was he being coy, trying to figure out how long I would be in town? We hadn’t addressed the question of where she and I were making our home. I was letting her family think I could work remotely and fly back and forth as needed.
We also hadn’t discussed how we’d end this after the month was done. I’d leave and we’d chalk it up to an impulsive move that wasn’t practical due to our different lives.
I’d bring that up to her. Later.
She returned his grin. “We’ll figure something out. Next week is conferences, and Halloween is next weekend. My kids love stopping by the house to trick-or-treat.”
“Oh, the heck,” Dad said, and he chuckled. “I never even think of that. Living out here, no one ever stops by.”
I expected his tone to make his statement a dig, but instead, all I heard was sadness.
“Same at Mama’s,” Autumn replied easily. “Trick-or-treating kids is a perk of living in town.”
“I’ll get to experience that next year, I reckon.” He traced his fingers around the inside of his waistband. There was a time when he’d lost so much weight I’d worried those pants would fall right off. The habit of pulling his jeans up must’ve stayed as he’d put back on much-needed weight.
Then what he said sank in. “You’re moving into town?”
He nodded. “That new senior housing place, not far from the elementary school.”
I scowled at him. I hadn’t thought of where he’d go. Had I thought he’d sell and then squat on the land like he was part of the deal?
Senior housing.
When had Dad become a senior?
My heartburn redoubled. Goddammit. I took a long pull of my punch, wishing there was a splash of Copper Summit in it.
Then chagrin set in. I was wishing for a drink at an alcoholic’s place.
Not only that, I myself lived by guidelines when it came to the stuff.
I’d have a drink for business and during social events. Never because of emotion. Never.
You’re more like your old man than you thought. You need to get outta here, or you’re going to end up like him. My grandfather’s wheezy words came back to me.
I inhaled, the air like glass. I’d left like he’d said, and here I was, dangerously close to acting like my dad. “It’s time to go, Autumn.”
I started moving before she did. I slid my arm off her shoulder and snagged her hand. Since I’d caught her off guard, she stumbled when I tugged on her. “Gideon—”
“It’s time to go.”
“But we haven’t eaten.”
“Take some to go.” I continued pulling her toward the door.
A band was squeezing around my chest and the air hurt to breathe.
I needed to get out of here. Out of the past. Out of the thoughts of how much I was like the one person I had ever counted on, the one person I had worked so damn hard not to be like.
I’d toiled all my adult life to stay away from the place where I’d never measured up.
Autumn yanked on my hold. When I turned to frown at her, I caught the way Tate was scooting around his wife, like he was coming to rescue Autumn. I couldn’t keep towing my wife and fighting her and then end up arguing with her family. That wouldn’t work.
I pulled her into me and dropped my mouth to her ear. Her body was rigid and her eyes were full of concern, but also annoyance.
I wasn’t used to irritation from women.
“I need to leave. We can either bicker with your siblings or make up an excuse. I don’t care. I have to leave.”
She searched my expression. Whatever she saw made her relent, but only slightly.
Tate approached us. “Everything okay, Autumn?”
I shot him a glare. I’d make sure Autumn was fucking fine.
“It seems like lunch didn’t agree with Gideon. Stomach cramps,” she whispered loudly.
I’d forgive her for tossing my guts under the bus. I wasn’t behaving like a gentleman.
“The house has a toilet.” Tate’s bluntness wasn’t helpful.
“No telling how long it’ll last or if it’s infectious. We wouldn’t want to spread it.” She patted my forearm. “Hopefully I didn’t pass anything on to him. Lord knows I have a stomach of steel after all my years of teaching. Poor guy. It’s going to hit him hard.”
She was using diarrhea as our reason for leaving—nonexistent diarrhea—and I was admiring her for it.
Tate’s mouth twitched like he knew exactly what his sister was up to. “We’ll send you home with some food.” He twisted. “Chance, give me a hand.”
Autumn
Gideon didn’t talk all the way home. He gave me the keys, and I assumed it was to make it look like he really wasn’t feeling well. But the whole trip, he was on his phone, clicking away.
When he’d first dragged me off, he’d looked green around the gills. Like he’d seen a ghost right after eating bad shrimp. Meanwhile, my stomach had been rumbling up a storm.
My sisters and Scarlett had packed us a ton of food, and Chance had helped them carry it out. Mama had watched the show, but she’d been looking Gideon’s way, her brow furrowed. She must be concerned about him.
I had been too.
Now, I was a little irritated. We’d been home for an hour. He’d ignored the food and was set up at the table on his laptop. He’d called it early on the gathering that was to celebrate us and now he was ignoring me.
I was starving. And I was done waiting for him to interact.
I fixed myself a plate, my stomach growling the whole time.
It took everything in me not to ask him if he wanted me to do the same for him.
Two could play the ignoring game. I heaped on ham, veggies, Wynter’s fruit salad, and the macaroni salad that I was sure Teller had bought from the grocery store and put into a bowl. I even took all of Mama’s cookie salad.
Not once did Gideon glance up. He didn’t initiate a conversation. He didn’t treat me like I’d want to be treated as a real or fake wife.
I took my food outside and sat on the front stoop. The day was beautiful. A little cool, but I was still wearing the cardigan I had put on over my dress.
The sun was going down, but I chomped down on my food. I needed the crisp, fresh air to chisel away the resentment I was building toward the absurdly gorgeous man in my kitchen. How could he kiss me senseless and then brush me off like I was nothing more than his chauffeur?
Did I want to have his bigheaded, frustrating babies?
My appetite vanished, but I continued to clean my plate. Hank and my family had put a lot into this last-minute celebration and I would honor it.