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I grinned. “Sure you did.”
“What are you smiling at? You don’t believe me?”
I shook my head. “Not in the slightest. You only went out with him to keep that barrier between us. But in the end, you couldn’t even spend the night with him.”
“Don’t you think a lot of yourself.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. You don’t have to admit it. I know the truth. And just so you know, I haven’t been with anyone else since the night at the police station either. I have patience. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “And what if I’m never ready? Are you going to wait around forever?”
I took a half step closer. We were now toe to toe. Autumn made no attempt to back up as she watched me closely. But it was neither the time, nor the place, to see what she’d do if I pushed. Instead, I let my eyes drop to her feet and slowly work their way back up. They grazed appreciatively over the curve of her hip and snagged on her beautiful, full breasts. Her nipples hardened through her T-shirt as I watched, like a flower coming into bloom. When my eyes finally reached her face again, her lips were parted, her eyes hooded.
I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “It definitely won’t take forever.”
***
“Oh my God. And then Lindsey sits right between them and kisses him.”
“That girl’s nothing but trouble,” Bud said.
“I know, right? But apparently our bachelor is into trouble. He likes that Justine, too.”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe the conversation I’m listening to. I feel like I’m at lunch with Juliette.”
Autumn and Bud had been talking about The Bachelor for the last twenty minutes. I knew Autumn watched that crap. But Bud? I just kept shaking my head. He’d said his new “lady friend” watched it, and he’d gotten into it, too.
Autumn turned to me. “Who’s Juliette?”
“A coworker. Don’t worry. She’s no threat to you.” I winked. “Juliette’s not my type.”
Autumn rolled her eyes, but I saw the smile as she turned away. “Have you ever even watched it?”
“No, and I’m surprised you do. It’s basically a show where a dude gets to date, like, twenty women at the same time while they do over-the-top crap to fight for attention. Women love it, yet the same women lose their shit if a man they’re dating wants to date even one other woman.”
Autumn shook her head. “There’s a difference between what women want in real life and what they want in their reality TV.”
“If you say so…”
Storm came in from the garage. He’d been outside cleaning and painting most of the day. “I’m starving.”
“I’m serving hot, open-face sandwiches for dinner tonight,” Bud said. “And you can help yourself to the fridge.”
I shook my head. “Why don’t I order us a pizza? Your hot open faces are always a big hit, with no leftovers.”
Bud smiled. “That’s because I toast the bread on the grill and melt the cheese before I pour the brown gravy on top. It was Donovan over there’s favorite as a kid. I’d have to hide three if he didn’t show for dinner early.”
Storm scratched at his temple. “You used to eat with the poor people?”
“No, I used to be the poor people.”
“But now you’re rolling in it. You’re a lawyer with a fancy car, and your shoes are always shiny.”
“Yeah, and?”
He shrugged. “Most of the time poor stays poor.”
I’d been fixing a cabinet door, but I stopped and gave Storm my full attention. “If you think like that, that usually is what happens. You have to be able to see yourself successful to have a shot at finding success. And you need to work harder than someone who has things handed to them.” I felt Autumn’s eyes on me, so I looked over. “No offense.”
She smiled. “None taken.”
“You ever run track at school?” I asked Storm.
“Yeah.”
“You know why the runners don’t all start from the same line?”
“Because the inside track is shorter.”
“That’s right. They make it fair for everyone. But in real life, that crap doesn’t happen. Some people start from behind—and for reasons other than just being poor.” I paused, making sure he was following. He gave the smallest of nods. “So learn to run faster, and never forget there are people starting even farther back than you.”
I finished repairing the cabinet and then helped Autumn, who had been painting the trim in Bud’s kitchen while I worked. I could’ve given Storm a hand, but Bud had gone out there to help, and I thought a little one-on-one time with him might do the kid some good. Besides, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to work close to Autumn. I stole glances every chance I got—when she stretched above her head to paint the top moldings and her top rode up, exposing her creamy, smooth skin, when she bent over to dip her brush into the paint, giving me a straight-line view of her phenomenal ass.
