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Fine Line (Inked Duet #1)

Page 18

by Persephone Autumn


  Halfway through planting, my phone rings in my pocket. When I pull it from my pants, I roll my eyes and answer. “Hey, Jas. What’s up?”

  “Mom says you’re bringing your girlfriend and her daughter to dinner Wednesday.”

  Her words are a statement and leave it wide open for me to mess with her. “Do you have an actual question for me?”

  “Don’t be a jerk, Jonas. Anything you want to tell me before Wednesday?”

  What? “Uh… I don’t understand what you’re asking. Is this a trick question?”

  “Sorry, bro. Just didn’t know if there’s anything I shouldn’t bring up. Never been in this situation before.”

  Alright, my sister is being dramatic. I roll my eyes and laugh. “Jas, she’s not an outcast or something. She’s a wonderful person. I really like her. She really likes me. And it just so happens she has a daughter. But you’ll love her too. Both of them.”

  “Okay, brother. Just elbow me if I start acting weird.”

  I laugh. “Can I elbow you no matter what?”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Love you too. See you Wednesday.”

  “Bye.”

  The call disconnects and I shake my head. Of my two sisters, I knew Jasmine would be the one to freak out more. Jillian has always been more laid back about life. Sure, she will ask questions, but it won’t feel the same as when Mom and Jasmine do.

  I finish putting the last of the plants in the soil and head back into the house. After washing up, I plop down on the couch and lay where Autumn and I do every time she visits. The fabric smells like her. Like vanilla and cherry and the distinct scent of Autumn.

  Like a weirdo, I press my face into the cushions and inhale deeply. Only a few more hours and I will see her for dinner. I set an alarm on my phone and take a nap with my nose against the cushion where her scent is strongest. Fuck, I love her….

  * * *

  Autumn wanders around her apartment in search of a specific bandana she wants to wear in her hair. I offer to help, but stop after a minute when it seems I am only in the way. Clementine tries to tell her the last place she saw it, but steers clear of Autumn while she scours the apartment.

  Five minutes later, the bandana is secure in her hair. But she fidgets more. Bites her lips frequently. Checks her hair. Questions what she wears. And I can’t help but adore how nervous she is about meeting my family.

  Her anxiety says more than any words. Says how much she cares—not just about me, but also wanting my family to like her. And Clementine.

  I step up to her and rest my hands on her hips. “Autumn.” She stops for a minute and stares up into my eyes. “It’ll be okay.” Her eyes dart between mine and don’t calm down. At this rate, there is only one way she will calm down. So, I dip down and kiss her. Kiss her so deeply, I steal her breath.

  When I break the kiss, she stares up at me as her body sags. “Thank you.”

  “Any time.” I scan down the length of her. “You look great. Ready to head out?”

  She stares down her front, then meets my gaze again with a sigh. “As ready as I’m going to be.” Spinning away from me, she calls down the hallway. “Clementine, time to leave.”

  The cutest girl in the world comes barreling down the hallway with Spartan as her sidekick. I swear he has never been so loyal to a person before. Not even me. But any time Clementine is near, he switches to this whole new dog. Yes, he is still silly and wild, but he is also gentle and attentive with her. The two of them in the same room is the strangest and most interesting sight to witness.

  When Clementine and Spartan stand a few feet away, I cock my head and take in the new accessory around his neck. A bright red bandana, folded into a triangle, and hanging proudly around his neck. And no joke, I swear Spartan smiles.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. The last thing I want to do is laugh and let Clementine think it’s about her. But I do want to laugh at Spartan’s new attire. Especially since I tried to make him wear several similar items over the last three years and have failed. Put him in a room with Clementine for five-plus minutes and bam. Done.

  “Spartan.” He jerks his head my way. “Ready to go see Grandma?”

  Woof, woof, woof.

  “That is hilarious and cute as heck,” Autumn says.

  “Just wait, it’ll get better when we get there.”

  The ride from Autumn’s apartment to my parent’s house passes quickly. Autumn bounces her knee in the passenger seat more often than not. Each time it bobs, I give her thigh a gentle squeeze to reassure her everything will be fine. Then again, can’t say I have ever been in her shoes.

  Sure, I have hung out with friends’ families several times over the years. But meeting them was different. Cora is the only friend whose parents I met that made me semi-nervous. But they were hosting a Memorial Day BBQ and invited everyone. But she was the only person whom I ever had a romantic interest in as an adult where anxiety would apply.

  It surprises me, though, how not nervous I am about tonight. Will my mom and sisters probably probe Autumn with a hundred awkward questions? I hope not, but wouldn’t be shocked if they did. But I am driving the two most important people in my life right now to my parents’ house—to our weekly family dinner—and I have never been calmer in my life.

  Huh. No doubt this could be psychoanalyzed for days.

  When I turn onto Mom and Dad’s street, Autumn grips my forearm. And when I park the Jeep in the driveway, she practically digs her nails into my pulse point.

  Spartan barks like the lunatic he is, dying to get out and run for the door. Clementine bounces in her seat with obvious excitement. While Autumn stares at my parent’s four-bedroom house with lips tucked between her teeth and eyes scanning every flower and shrub along the exterior.

  I lean over and kiss the soft spot beneath her ear. “Hey.” Slowly, she rotates her head to face me. Our mouths a breath apart. “Breathe. There is absolutely nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Says you,” she whispers.

  “Promise I’ll keep you safe. Just stick by my side.” I close the space between us and kiss her sweetly. “Okay?”

  She nods. “Yeah.”

  Both of us hop out of the Jeep. I fetch Spartan from the back, while Autumn helps Clementine down. As soon as we are close enough to the door, I let go of Spartan’s leash and he bolts. Before he can bark for Mom to open up, the door flies open and he leaps into her waiting arms.

  “Who’s my favorite grandpup?” Mom asks Spartan. His responding bark makes me laugh per usual.

  “Mom, he’s your only grandpup,” I say.

  She rises back to her normal height and looks me square in the eyes. “True, but he doesn’t know that.”

  I laugh as we step up onto the porch. “Mom, this is Autumn and her daughter, Clementine. Ladies, this is my mom, Irene.”

  “Autumn, it’s wonderful to meet you.” Mom lifts her hands and silently asks permission to hug. When Autumn leans in to reciprocate, I exhale.

  “Nice to meet you, Irene.” The hug lasts for two breaths, but Autumn relaxes the second Mom’s arms wrap around her. “Clementine” —Autumn peers down at her daughter— “say hello to Miss Irene.”

  Clementine lifts her hand and waves. “Hi, Miss Irene.” Then she leaps forward and hugs Mom’s midsection. “Nice to meet you.”

  Mom laughs at Clementine’s spunky nature before throwing a smile my way. A smile I have never seen before.

  Once Clementine breaks her hold, Mom escorts us into the house. “Your sisters aren’t here yet, but we can start prepping dinner now.”

  We step past the foyer and into the formal living room. The sofa, matching chairs, and table are like new, only because my parents hardly use the room. Usually, we sit in here during Christmas or other big gatherings. Otherwise, we sit in the family room.

  I let Autumn know where she can set her purse and tell Mom I’m going to give her a tour before we start dinner. Mom agrees to keep an eye on Clementine, who is cur
rently talking to Spartan. No doubt they will entertain each other most of the evening.

  As we wander down the hall, I slip my hand around Autumn’s and walk backward so I can face her. “Still nervous?” She has been silent—with the exception of introductions—since we left her apartment.

  “Yeah,” she says with a nod. “God, I’ve never been so anxious to impress people.”

  I lead us into the bedroom at the end of the hall on the right. My old bedroom, now a guest room. Shutting the door behind us, I steer us to the bed and sit us on the edge. “Hey, you don’t need to impress anyone here. We don’t operate that way.”

  “You know, I got that vibe from your mom right off the bat. But I think your sisters will be more critical.”

  Autumn may not know Jasmine and Jillian yet, so I get her concern. But if either of my sisters make Autumn uncomfortable or give her the third degree, I won’t be the only person giving them a ration of shit. Mom and Dad would both jump in the ring and defend her too.

  “They won’t be. If either of them so much as says something off-putting, you’ll have three people in your court.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes and falls away as quickly as it appeared. “Hey.” I pinch her chin in my thumb and forefinger, lifting her line of sight. “It’ll be fine, scarlet. Promise.”

  She nods, eyes still swirling with apprehension. I hate how her nerves are eating her up. How they hinder the great night to come.

  Leaning forward, I lower my mouth to hers. Kiss her slow and sweet. Part her lips with my tongue. Taste her distinct flavor, a flavor I cannot pinpoint but also cannot get enough of. Her hands trace my jawline. Nails scrape my scalp until they reach my longer strands and take hold. Drawing me closer. Deeper.

  My hands drop to her hips and fist them as I step back, sit on the bed, and haul her onto my lap. Her legs straddle mine as if they have done it hundreds of times before. We kiss as if another opportunity won’t arise. As if our lips won’t have contact for days or weeks or months. Our passion is a firestorm. Unrelenting. Building. Flourishing into something primal yet unexplainable.

  Autumn rocks her hips against me. Moans down my throat. The bulge beneath my zipper thick and swollen and starving for her. I break the kiss and trail my mouth over the soft line of her jaw, nipping and licking. Down the column of her throat as she throws her head back and gasps, fingers clutching my hair and locking me to her skin.

  When I reach her shoulder, I stop and lay my forehead on her. Inhaling her delicious scent, I close my eyes and bask in her weight on my lap. If I keep this up much longer, every adult in the house will know what we are up to. Which will only serve to stir up more discomfort.

  Our rapid breathing floats in the room as our pulses slowly settle. I lean back and trail my eyes up her neck until they lock on to her intoxicating irises. So many words pass through her eyes without a single word leaving her lips. And I feel it. Deep down in my bones, I feel all her unspoken thoughts. Because those same words trickle through my every vein and artery like DNA.

  Neither of us has brought up the extent of how we feel for the other. But staring into her eyes right now, the way she refuses to look away, it is obvious she is in just as deep as I am.

  Some men would be unsettled by this revelation—falling in love. Me? I indulge in it. Take it and tuck it safely inside the cage surrounding my heart.

  I brush my fingers from her temple down to her lips. “As much as I’d like to stay in here the next several hours, we should finish the tour and help with dinner.”

  Autumn kisses my fingers before sliding off my lap. “Suppose you’re right. Last thing I need is your family thinking we’re in here having sex.”

  I laugh to cover my sudden choking. She pats my back a few times then laughs too. Rising off the bed, Autumn straightens her shirt and runs her hands down her thighs to smooth her jeans.

  Once she finishes, Autumn steps between my legs and combs her fingers through my hair. “If we walk out with your hair like this, everyone will know what we were up to in here.” She giggles as I roll my eyes closed and sit perfectly still.

  Her touch is the cure to every ailment I will ever have. My remedy. Created for only me.

  When she stops fixing my disheveled strands, I open my eyes. “Thanks,” I whisper. “Let me show you the rest of the house. Oh” —I wave my hand around the room as I stand— “this was once my room.”

  “Fitting.” She hums and nods.

  Taking her hand in mine, I lead us back into the hall. I play tour guide through the rest of the house and finish up the circuit in the kitchen. Which is where my mom and sisters reside.

  The moment we step into the room, all three of them look to us. Autumn’s grip tightens and I kiss her temple. “Jasmine, Jillian, this is Autumn. Autumn, these are my sisters. Jasmine” —I point to my older sister, then to my baby sister— “and Jillian.”

  Jasmine picks up a hand towel and wipes her hands before extending one to Autumn. “Wonderful to finally meet you, Autumn. My son, Lex, is playing with Clementine in the family room. She’s a doll.”

  “Nice to meet you. And thank you.” Autumn smiles like a proud mom. A smile that warms me throughout.

  Jillian steps forward and Autumn extends her hand. But Jillian takes us all by surprise when she hugs Autumn. Not that my family doesn’t hug. We just don’t generally hug new people. Especially Jillian.

  “Wow, Jilli,” I say when she releases Autumn. “Feeling extra affectionate today?”

  She play-punches my bicep. “Ha ha, big brother. And so what if I am. Can’t I be happy and want to hug people?”

  “Forget I asked,” I say, throwing my hands up in surrender. “Mom, what can we help with?”

  Mom directs me to the cutting board to help with the salad. She frequently gives me the task and I wonder if my slicing and chopping skills supersede those of my sisters. While I slice carrots, Mom asks Autumn if she will help her with dessert—magic brookie bars. If there is one thing my mom is master of, it is dessert. And her magic brookie bars are to die for.

  The kitchen fills with chatter as everyone catches up. Jasmine tells us how Lex heard someone say the word shit the other day and he won’t stop saying it. I laugh, probably harder than I should, because my sister is adamant about raising Lex to be a proper young man. Mom chimes in and tells her about each occasion when we all said our first bad word. It only serves to make me laugh harder.

  After Dad and Anton set the table, we all carry out dishes while Mom puts the magic brookies in the oven. We take our seats at the table and start passing around food from one to the next. Beside me, Autumn relaxes more. Clementine is the life of the party. And I spend the entire hour at the dinner table with a wide smile stretching my cheeks.

  “Irene, I need this recipe,” Autumn says as she chews her last bite of magic brookie bar.

  Mom smiles at the other end of the table. “I’ll jot it down before you go. Let’s clean up and sit out back for a little bit before everyone goes.”

  And just like that, everyone rises from their seats and shuffles around to clean up. Then we all sit out back on the loungers near the pool while the kids watch a movie on television. Autumn sits between my legs and chats with everyone as if she has been here several times before. Her earlier nerves nowhere to be found.

  When I check the time, I suggest we head out so Clementine can get a good night’s sleep before school. We collect the goody bag Mom made us, give hug after hug, and say our goodbyes.

  Once Clementine and Spartan are secure in the back seat, Spartan lays down and rests his head on Clementine’s lap. Autumn and I hop in, and soon we head for Autumn’s apartment.

  Tonight went better than expected. Mom and my sisters didn’t probe Autumn with questions. Thank god. The conversations in the kitchen and around the dinner table flowed naturally. And Autumn smiled often, as did I.

  A few miles from the apartment, I stop at a red light and look in the rearview mirror to see Clementine asleep. I nudge m
y head toward the back seat. “She passed out.”

  Autumn glances back at Clementine briefly and smiles. “Was a busy night for her. But she had fun.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  She nods before I face forward again and drive. “Yeah.” She reaches across the console and rests her hand on my thigh. I swallow. “Your family is wonderful,” she says wistfully.

  “They are,” I mumble as I envision her and Clementine as part of the family out of nowhere. Crazy how my mind jumps from point A to point Z before stopping at any of the other points in between. But I can’t help how Autumn makes me feel. How she makes me long for more. To fall asleep with her in my arms and wake with her curled to my torso and tangled in my limbs.

  A block from her apartment complex entrance, I strike up the nerve to propose an idea to her. After double-checking Clementine is still asleep in the back, I take a deep breath and swallow. I reach over the console and rest my hand on her leg.

  “Autumn, I want to ask you something. But I don’t want you to freak out.”

  She turns in the seat to face me better. In the process, my hand slides farther north and stops inches from the junction of her thighs. She doesn’t lean back or shift it away.

  “Okay,” she drawls out.

  “Keep an open mind and don’t shoot me down right away.” I glance over at her as I steer us into the complex. “Will you stay at my place?” I park the Jeep and take in Autumn’s wide-eyed, frozen state. “Obviously not tonight, but one night soon.”

  Autumn looks to the back seat out of the corner of her eye. “Jonas, I don’t know.”

  “Think about it. No rush. And Clementine can stay over too. The couch doubles as a bed too.”

  “Jonas…” I lean toward her, press a finger to her lips, and cut her off.

  “All I ask is for you to think about it. No pressure. If you decide it isn’t a good idea, I’ll understand. But at least give it a day.” She slowly nods, and I remove my finger from her lips.

 

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