Under the Autumn Sky

by Liz Talley

Sorry I gave up on love with you?

  The gates nearly jumped at her as she took the corner, and she turned so sharply the car nearly scraped against them as she pulled into the drive. She tapped her brakes and took a deep breath.

  Okay, easy, Lou. This is Abram. This is the man you love.

  But her words didn’t stop her heart from galloping or her stomach from churning.

  She pressed the brake, bringing the car to a complete stop and then drummed the steering wheel with her fingers. “Should I do this?”

  Her voice sounding in the car startled her. The hour-and-a-half-long drive had been too quiet and had given her too much time to talk herself out of going to Beau Soleil.

  What if he didn’t want her?

  The thought had crossed her mind more than once—okay, a lot—over the past few months. Maybe she’d only imagined his heart was involved. Maybe it was merely a lust thing…and a man could fulfill that need with another woman easily. Or at least a man who looked like Abram could.

  Dear Lord, what if he’d already moved on?

  That would royally suck to pull up into his world again and find him taken. But then again, Picou wouldn’t have sent her that message, would she?

  Too many questions and the answers lay ahead of her in that rambling plantation house with peculiar charm and addictive men. She jabbed her foot on the accelerator and the car leaped forward, nearly hitting a blur of blue coming around the corner of the abnormally long drive. She slammed on her brakes and the car skidded in the gravel, striking something.

  The thump of a body hitting and falling had her throwing the car into Park. “Oh, my God!”

  She’d hit someone. And whoever that someone was had been thrown into the brambles on the side of the drive. After throwing open her door and climbing out, she caught a flash of color to the right of the wheel well. She left the car idling and ran around the front end.

  “Damn it.”

  Abram sprawled out in a tangle of vines and brush. His shirt clung to a barbed vine, lifting the hem to reveal spectacular abs. Her mouth went dry.

  She’d hit the man she’d come here for.

  “Oh, God, are you okay?” she asked, hurrying to where he lay, picking at brambles caught in the weave of his shirt.

  “Ow!” He rolled to his bottom and winced before moving his arms and legs, checking that they worked. “I’m okay.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  “Lou?” He looked up at her with incredulous green eyes. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s signing day.”

  “I know.”

  He flipped over and then sprang to his feet, dusting the bits of leaf off his athletic shorts. “So why are you here? Is something wrong? Or are you trying to kill me?”

  “Of course not. I wasn’t paying attention. Instead I was thinking so hard about what I wanted to say to you that I almost, um, killed you.”

  He shook his head and blinked his eyes rapidly. It was cartoonish and normally would have made her laugh, but this was no laughing matter. Nor was it a smiling one.

  He blinked one last time. “What you wanted to say?”

  She licked her lips, taking in how good he looked. He’d put on a few pounds and looked super fit if not a little pale from the winter—or maybe the fact he’d lost his dream job for no good reason. “Um, yeah, I came here to tell you…”

  And then she couldn’t remember what she’d practiced in the car. Something about how they’d squandered a chance at love but still had an opportunity to overcome all the obstacles they’d had before them, and then something about Waylon bringing her to her senses. But after having nearly run him over, that sounded stupid.

  “Uh, well, I had this whole speech planned out about how we sort of let this thing between us, you know, fall away. I thought we could maybe talk about—” she swallowed “—something more.”

  “Something more?” he repeated, rubbing a hand through his short hair. “Like a relationship? Or a friendship?”

  Oh, Lord, she was screwing everything up. She wasn’t good at words.

  She flapped her hands. “Oh, hell.”

  She moved as quick as Waylon ever could and launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and landing a kiss somewhere near his mouth.

  Lucky for her, he caught her cleanly or they might have landed in the thorn-covered vines again. He moved so it was his lips she kissed instead of a spot sort of near his lips.

  Lou went for it, tugging his head back, deepening the kiss so it was a slow, wet one just like Kevin Costner had suggested in one of his countless baseball movies. And it was wonderful. Like candy at Christmas. Or like a jazz standard on a rainy night. Or like a hot, hard man doing sweet, delightful things with his hands.

  Which he was.

  Finally, she broke the kiss and leaned back to look at him. “I didn’t have the words.”

  He smiled. “I think I like you tongue-tied.”

  She didn’t let go of him. Instead she squeezed her legs harder, hugging her to him, laying her head on his shoulder. “I missed you.”

  His response was to hold her tighter and kiss her cheek. She smelled that familiar scent she’d missed—some kind of sporty aftershave and quiet confidence. That was Abram—and all she’d ever want in a man. “You can set me down now. I forgot I hit you with my car. Are you hurt?”

  “No, and what if I don’t want to let you go again? What if I just hold you here forever?”

  She sighed. “We’ll get rained on, and eventually get hungry. And I know I’ve lost weight, but I’m pretty sure your arms will get tired.”

  He set her down. “Ah, Lou. Ever practical. You just suck the romance out of things.”

  Well, that hadn’t been her intent. “Maybe I need someone to show me how romance works. The last date I went on the guy made me go dutch.”

  He laughed. “That’s wretched. A travesty. And what the hell are you doing going out with some other guy?”

  “Trust me when I say it was a mistake.” She darted her gaze to where a blackbird hopped on a naked branch of the tree behind him. She didn’t want to look him in the eye, just in case he blew her off. “So you think you’re up for the job of teaching me about romance?”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tapped her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze. In his eyes she saw such sweetness and her heart contracted. Warmth filled her as he whispered, “You came for me. Do you know how romantic that is?”

  She felt her eyes fill, reflecting tenderness. “I never wanted to go in the first place.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her and she tasted forever in his kiss. She slid her hands up and around his shoulders and tangled her fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck. He felt so warmly masculine, so very right in her arms. She thought she might stay there forever. Rain and hunger be damned.

  Abram slid his hands up her back and wrapped his fingers in her hair, forcing her head back. He broke the kiss, tipped his head back and looked at her. Suddenly she felt like a heroine in one of those Regency romances she had stacked on her bedside table. Like her dreams might be coming true.

  His gaze caressed her and she couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. “Hey, we kissed out in the open and there was no one to catch us. Bummer.”

  He chuckled, releasing her hair so he could move his hands to cup her face. Something about the way he held her made her feel treasured, and it had been forever ago since she felt so cherished. “Been lots of irony in this whole thing, hasn’t it?”

  She nodded, but didn’t relinquish him. Felt too nice having her fingers all over him. “Like I’m pretty much the sluttiest virgin in all of Louisiana.”

  He bent his head and dropped little baby kisses along her jaw, nuzzling her neck, nipping her earlobe. “I like slutty virgins though I can’t say a part of that will remain true for very long.”

  “You’re going to take away my sluttiness?”

  She felt the rumble of la
ughter in his chest as he lifted his head and pulled her against him. “Underneath that serious demeanor, you’ve got a wicked sense of humor, woman.”

  She arched an eyebrow and grinned.

  His eyes became soft as spring grass. “Stay with me, Lou.”

  “I will, I want to build something with you, but there are considerations…like Lori, my job and my house in Bonnet Creek, so literally, I’ll have to leave you.”

  “I know that, but I never want you to close a door on us. No more walking away.”

  She shook her head. “That’s why I drove like a bat out of hell to get to you. I want a new beginning with you with nothing in between us. It won’t be perfect, but I think what we have is worth a do-over.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he released it, she felt the cleansing…the relief, and it shook her to her core. This man wanted her. This man loved her.

  Finally, her day had come.

  He opened his eyes and smiled. “I think I found my new road.”

  “What?”

  He kissed her quickly and turned her toward her car. “I’ll explain later, for now I’m just happy to be in this moment. Happy you came to me.”

  Twining his fingers with hers, Abram tugged her back toward her still-idling car. She glanced up at him, his brown hair dappled with the winter sunlight, his cheek scruffy with a two-day beard, and said, “There is a lot to be sorry about over this past year, but I’ll never be sorry I walked into that honky-tonk, found a pretend date waiting for me and rekindled something within me that had lay dead for so long. And I’ll never regret falling in love with you.”

  He stopped. “You’re in love with me?”

  She nodded. “I thought that was understood.”

  He snatched her from where she stood, hauling her into his arms. “I love you, too.”

  And then he kissed her again.

  Forever echoed in his kiss.

  Lou tilted her head back and laughed. “This is wonderful. So, so very wonderful.”

  “And special,” he added. “Don’t forget I told you to wait for someone special.”

  She lowered her chin. “What are you talking about?”

  “That night on the pier when you told me you were a virgin. Remember? I said don’t give it up to me, some random stranger, but wait for someone who means something to you.”

  Lou felt joy bubble up inside her, following swiftly by red-hot desire. “And to think he’s one and the same.”

  “I better get you back to Beau Soleil before your first time is on a pile of brambles near an old graveyard.”

  Lou shook her head. “No way I’m having sex in your mother’s house.”

  He eyed her car. “Think you can turn that car around quickly?”

  “You’re not serious? What about your mother? What would she think if I didn’t come inside to say hello?”

  He made a confused face. “She doesn’t even know you’re here.”

  Lou started laughing. “Who do you think told me where you were?”

  “My mother called you?”

  She shook her head. “No, texted me.”

  He started laughing, lifted her and swung her in a circle. “You’re the interesting girl?”

  She couldn’t stop the laughter. “What are you talking about?”

  He set her down, kissed her and said, “Just before I left for my run, she told me she’d found me an interesting girl. I thought she was trying to set me up, but she meant you.”

  “Come to think of it, the first time I met her, she told me I was interesting. Then she told me she dreamed about me and that I would be important to her family. She said I led someone out of the woods.” Lou looked around at the naked trees enveloping them.

  Abram hummed the Twilight Zone music before saying, “You know, I didn’t know I was lost until I met you. My world felt rock solid, but far less interesting, not to mention lonely. I had this goal in front of me, something I thought meant more than anything, but sometimes dreams divert in the most interesting ways. I found you, a new career that I’m surprisingly excited about, and I’m truly happy.”

  Lou felt the same way. For years her goal had been to get Lori and Waylon raised and successful so she could go back in time and recapture her old dream, but life had changed her and she could never go back to being that young, bright-eyed freshman. Somehow in setting her goal so solidly in front of her, she’d forgotten that the joy was in the living—and the surprises life held.

  Abram was the best surprise she’d ever had.

  “I’m happy, too, and excited about the future in a way I’ve never been before.”

  She reached her still-idling car and turned toward him. He braced both arms on the frame of the car, capturing her in his arms. “Me, too. So as to our future, do you think you can pencil in a date with the Coach?”

  “Like when? And are you still a coach?”

  “As of ten minutes ago, I’m the new coach of the Bayou Bridge, and, I think tonight will do fine.”

  “But it’s Tuesday.”

  “The best day to start a new beginning.”

  Lou smiled, cupped his face and bestowed a kiss that held all her desire, passion and love on his very delicious lips. “Bring a condom.”

  He smiled and nipped her ear. “I’ll bring a whole box.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt of Unraveling the Past by Beth Andrews!

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  CHAPTER ONE

  WHEN JESSICA TAYLOR lost her virginity three months and six guys ago—after fiercely guarding it for fifteen years—she’d been stone-cold sober.

  She hadn’t made that mistake again.

  Her stomach rolled. From the Jack Daniel’s, she assured herself. She should’ve stuck with beer. It always gave her a nice, mellow buzz without making her want to puke. Mostly because she knew her limit. Whiskey was a new beast, one she hadn’t figured out her tolerance to yet.

  But Nate had been so sweet when she’d arrived at the party a few hours ago, teasing her into trying J.D. and Diet Coke, making sure her glass was always full, adding more soda when she choked, her eyes watering at the first taste.

  Yeah, he was a real prince.

  A cold sweat broke out along her hairline. Her stomach churned again. Because of the alcohol. It had nothing to do with her being on her back in the middle of the freaking woods.

  She stared up at the moon peeking through the branches of the trees and pretended she was somewhere else, anywhere else, doing anything except what she was doing. That she wasn’t wasted—yet again. And that Nate Berry, with his floppy, pop-star hair and tight circle of friends, really liked her. Cared about her. That he wasn’t using her.

  That she wasn’t letting him use her.

  Her skin grew clammy. Prickled with the cold. Nate’s fingers clenched her hips, his face pressed against her neck. He was just another boy. And this was just another meaningless, drunken hookup in what was quickly becoming a long line of meaningless, drunken hookups.

  Tears stung the backs of her eyelids and she squeezed her eyes shut. No. No feeling sorry for herself. She had every right to have sex with whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted. It was her body after all. Her choice to give it to some guy or not.

  She was in control.

  Her back and butt scraped against the rough earth.
Her neck was stretched back, her hair caught between the crown of her head and the ground, pulling painfully each time he moved. She just wanted it to be over. Wanted to pretend it had never happened in the first place. Just like all the other times.

  Clutching his arms, she lifted her hips to keep from getting the mother of all brush burns, to stop the contents of her stomach from sloshing. She inhaled deeply, breathed in the scent of Nate’s cologne and the pungent smell from the bonfire in the clearing outside the trees. His grip tightened, his nails digging into her skin as he groaned hoarsely and shuddered then finally—finally—stilled.

  Thank God.

  He collapsed on top of her, surprisingly heavy for a guy who looked as if he’d never heard of carbs, let alone ate any. His heart beat frantically against her chest, his breath hot and ragged against her shoulder. They had connected in the most elemental way. And still she felt alone. Always alone.

  Her throat closed. Without a word, without a kiss or a murmured endearment or even an outright lie about how fantastic it’d been, how fantastic she was, Nate climbed to his feet. He turned his back and adjusted his clothes.

  The cool night air washed over her bare skin. She shivered but couldn’t find the energy or the care to cover herself. After she’d lost her virginity to a smooth-talking college freshman, she’d stopped believing guys’ lines. Had quickly learned they’d do and say anything to get into a girl’s pants.

  Yeah, she’d learned. But she hadn’t stopped hoping, couldn’t stop wishing that each time would be different. That, when it was all over, the guy she’d been with would think she was…special. Instead, once she gave them what they wanted, they all thought she was trash.

  She was starting to wonder if they were right.

  As she yanked up her jeans, shouts of excitement from the party still going strong reached them. The bonfire illuminated the colorful graffiti on the huge rocks that formed a barrier between the woods and what passed for civilization around here. Flames shot high into the air—probably from someone tossing gasoline onto the fire.

  What a bunch of idiots.

  “Come on,” Nate said, facing her as he stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “Let’s go. Sounds like the party’s getting wicked wild.”