Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Forest
If I want Autumn to trust me, then I have to extend the same courtesy, trusting that she didn’t lie to me when she said she wasn’t on a date with her friend.
The fact that Bryce keeps flirting with the server when she comes back to fill our drinks and clear our empty plates is the blueberry on top. I’d believe Autumn, regardless.
At the end of dinner, wherein Josephine kept interrupting Bryce and redirecting Autumn’s attention, the girls head to the restroom together. As soon as they’re out of earshot, I tell Bryce, “I’m going to marry her.”
“Are you, now?” Bryce rocks his chair back, balancing it on two legs. His condescending tone makes it clear he doesn’t think I have a shot in hell of getting Autumn to the altar.
“Yes,” I say, gritting my teeth. I may no longer see him as competition for Autumn’s heart, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to become best buddies any time soon.
God only knows what Autumn must have told him to have him ask, “And how are you gonna make that happen? She’s said from day one at school that she doesn’t plan on settling down for at least a decade.”
“That was before she met me.” Please let it be true. “I have a plan, and a dang good one at that. And once we’re married—”
Bryce’s chair bangs loudly on the floor when he crashes forward.
“You gonna tell her we can’t be friends?
Because all that tells me is you don’t know her as well as you think.
Ain’t nothing and no one gonna stop her from doing what she wants, and my brother and I will certainly have something to say about it if you try. ”
My brows fly up. “No! But I would like you to stop calling her ‘sunshine’. She’s my angel, not your anything except friend.
” When it’s obvious I haven’t swayed him, I ask, “How would you like it if someone were to call your future wife that? How would she or Autumn like it if other women called us cutesy names? Because it would make my insides curdle, and I’d be swift to correct them.
” Bryce concedes my point with the tip of his head.
“So, out of respect for our relationship, I’d like you to call her by her name. ”
Bryce lowers his voice. “You’re really that serious about a future with her?”
“As a heart attack.”
“Then you’ve got some making up to do, because that woman is something special, and she doesn’t deserve to have her heart played with by some indecisive schmuck.”
“Schmuck, schmuck,” Sebastian repeats, smiling up at me, though it sounds more like, “smuck, smuck.”
Well, that confirms it. Bryce must know everything. I tell him, “I love her, and there’s nothing indecisive about me.”
Bryce clicks his tongue. “Love, huh? She know that?”
“Not yet.” Because I’ve been a schmuck, I finish silently. “But give me another week, and she will.”
“Why a week?” Bryce asks.
“As I said, I have a plan.”
Bryce cuts a look to the side, and I follow his gaze to Autumn and Josephine making their way back to the table. “For the sake of her and the—” He clears his throat. “The kids, good luck to you, brother.”
Brother. Guess I’ve not only won Autumn’s family’s approval but his as well. All that’s left is to win Autumn’s.
“We’re ready to head out,” Autumn says, rubbing her cute, full belly after eating more than half of our shared meal and the largest portion of the Big Ol’ Brownie I ordered for the table.
“He smuck,” Sebastian says, smiling even wider when he looks at her.
She raises a brow at me. “What’s a smuck?”
“Schmuck,” Bryce says with a shit-eating grin, and my cheeks burn.
“Sometimes,” Autumn says with a snort, lifting Benjamin when he reaches for her, and settling him on her hip.
Bryce stands and tickles Benjamin under his chin. “Don’t you two paint quite the picture, sun—” He stops himself in the nick of time. “Looks good on you.”
Dammit.
“What does?” she asks, swaying side to side, rubbing my son’s back when he rests his head on her shoulder. I’m not the only one who loves her.
“The baby,” Bryce says. When Autumn’s eyes flare wide, he says, “Benny,” as if to clarify.
“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Autumn chuckles nervously, darting a peek at me before quickly looking away.
My Spidey-senses are tingling, though I’m not sure why. Am I missing something?
Outside in the parking lot, Josephine pushes between Autumn and Bryce when the two say their goodbyes, hugging for longer than either of our liking, especially when Bryce slips his hands low on Autumn’s back.
This jealousy of mine is a new development since meeting Autumn—one I’ve not experienced before—and I need to keep a leash on it.
Autumn would never tolerate this kind of behavior, as she shouldn’t, and it would only drive her further away.
Josephine says to Bryce with a sneer, “K, bye.” She physically pushes Autumn toward my SUV parked a few spots over.
Bryce laughs when Autumn whispers something to Josephine, and Josephine slinks back.
“Sorry for being rude,” she says with a slight curl of her upper lip.
She doesn’t wait for Bryce’s forgiveness before spinning on a heel and flipping her hair over her shoulder.
She learned that move from Autumn, who huffs and shakes her head but allows Josephine to push her onward.
Bryce pulls the brim of his hat down low over his eyes. “Seems you’re not the only one who doesn’t like me,” he says as we linger at the back of his truck.
Luckily for me, I take it that big trucks, cowboy hats, and square-toe boots aren’t Autumn’s type. It’s the lanky nerds and polished brogues that must do it for her. I can’t help but smile. “I like you just fine.”
“Yeah, now you do,” he says with a chuckle. “Thought things were going to come to blows, at first.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I tell him, then flick the brim of my imaginary cowboy hat and leave him to join Autumn, who’s helping Benjamin and Josephine get buckled into their seats.
I pass Sebastian to her, admiring the view of her backside in her tight skirt and high heels as she buckles him in next.
When she twists and closes the door, I want to set my hands on her hips and sweep her into a kiss, but I push my hands into my pockets.
For now. Sweeping her off her feet will come later if all things go as planned.
The wind picks up with the incoming storm that’s supposed to bring cooler weather to the region just in time for Christmas.
It’ll be a sad day when Autumn has to trade in her trouble-making, Forest-killing dresses for something warmer.
I make a mental note to buy a space heater for the office so she won’t have to cover up so much at work.
“It’s getting dark, and it’s supposed to start raining soon,” I say, making a greater effort to keep my hands to myself since my fingers keep twitching with the desire to cup and caress her jaw. “Come home with us. I’ll have your car delivered.”
Her inner debate is quickly settled when the sky opens up and starts sprinkling. “Thanks,” she murmurs, skirting to the side, her purse clutched to her chest to keep it from getting wet.
The drive home is quiet but peaceful, what with Josephine no longer chatting Autumn’s ear off, now that Bryce is no longer around.
I’ve missed having Autumn in my passenger seat, and now that I have her, some of the tension I’ve been carrying for weeks eases.
When we get home, I don’t ask Autumn to help me with getting the kids inside.
Neither do I try to get her to stay longer when she does so on her own.
At the front door, I lend Autumn my umbrella. I wish I could walk her across the street myself, if only so we could huddle close together for a few minutes. Maybe she’d even let me put my arm around her. “Are you coming back to help put them to bed?”
“You know you don’t have to ask.” She steps out, opens the umbrella with a snap, then makes a run for it.
I watch her the whole way home, praying for a backward glance. Just when I think I won’t get one, she looks over her shoulder. It’s only for a second, but it’s long enough to keep my hopes up that all is not lost. This plan of mine really might work.
“Ready?” Josephine asks, having changed into a paint-splattered T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.
“You betcha.” I get the boys settled in the corner of the fourth bedroom, where I’ve created a large play area with their favorite toys.
Holding the bottom of the ladder steady for Josephine, I help her climb up to the top rung, then hand her the bucket of clean, dry paintbrushes.
With the blinds open, I keep watch as I pass her each quart of paint she asks for, dodging the splatters that fall to the carpet protected by a canvas sheet.
As soon as I spot Autumn and Brady about to cross the street, I tell Josephine, and she quickly hurries down, then makes a run for the bathroom to shower off the paint that’s smudged across her hands and arms.
“Come on, boys,” I say, opening the plastic gate to let Sebastian out of the play area, and I scoop Benjamin up. I close and lock the bedroom door behind us just as Autumn presses the buttons on the front door’s keypad, thrilled we’re that much closer to finishing this part of the plan.
Autumn tilts her head to the side when we meet her and her brother in the living room, and she swings Sebastian up into her arms. “Smells like paint in here.”
“Josephine’s working on a new project,” I tell her, glad that Brady’s dropped down onto the couch with his game, paying us no mind.
“With wall paint?” She smiles at my little boy, hefting him higher on her hip, the bottom of her silky top riding up her torso. I’ve missed marking all that creamy skin with my lips.
I nod, flicking my eyes down briefly to her new slippers, which I’ll be adding to my growing, hidden collection. “She wanted to try a new medium.”
Following her nose, Autumn moves past me and tries to open the door to the fourth bedroom. “Why is it locked?”
Thankfully, Josephine and I came up with an explanation that isn’t a lie. “It’s a surprise she doesn’t want you to see yet.”
“Ooooh, okay.” She backs off, much to my relief, with a smile. “Can’t wait to see it.”
Neither can I, angel.