by L. B. Dunbar
As I enter the hallway, Logan steps out of his room and crosses the hall to me.
“Hey,” he whispers, reaching out for my hand.
“Hey.”
“You okay today? You were pretty quiet during dinner.”
Glancing away from him, I blurt my thoughts. “Am I making a mistake?” I turn back and continue with a fountain of questions. “Am I doing the wrong thing? Should I just accept that it’s too late?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Logan says, reaching up for a section of my hair and brushing it behind my ear before sweeping his hand under the weight of it and circling my nape with his warm palm. “Why would you say all this?”
“Is Ben right? Did I leap before looking? I have a habit of doing such a thing. It’s how I ended up taking care of Kevin, then Kenneth, and most recently, Rick. I average five years each. Do I lack commitment?”
“Hey,” he says again, squeezing my nape and ducking his head, forcing me to look at his eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I was going to read,” I tell him, weakly lifting the book.
“Run away with me instead. Lorna’s with the kids in town. Let’s take a walk on the beach.”
I nod though I feel guilty he’s taking me away from here. Or maybe it’s that I’m taking him away from his daughter. What was I thinking falling into bed with a man who already has a child? I thought it would mean a lack of responsibility for him, but he’s one of the most committed guys I know. He knows the difficulties of raising a child and the attachment one should feel toward their own kid.
Logan takes my hand, and I willingly follow him as he leads me down the staircase. Entering the kitchen, we find it empty, and Logan helps himself to beers in the mini fridge in the bar alcove. Clutching two bottles between his fingers, he takes my hand again and leads me down to the beach, where we walk a bit to remove ourselves from the immediate space below the house.
Eventually, Logan stops and folds down to the sand, tugging me down after him.
“Here.” He pops the top of one bottle, handing it over to me, and then unscrews the second bottle for himself.
“To you,” he says, tapping the neck of his beer to mine. He salutes the lowering sun with the cold brew and lifts it for his lips. Following his lead, I take a small pull from mine and then settle the bottle between my crisscrossed legs.
“What if I can’t do it?” I whisper. “What if I’m not a good mother?”
“Autumn, you will be. I saw you today with Oliver and Trevor, and those kids are hellions.”
“But I can return them to Zack.”
“I’ve also seen you with Lorna and Mila. The nail painting. The cartwheels. You were braiding their hair earlier tonight.”
“That’s just girl stuff.” I snort, dismissing my actions as I pick at the label on my beer.
“It’s mom stuff,” he offers. “And before you say that’s the easy part, I know you’ll be great at the hard stuff too.” He pauses to take another drink of his beer. “Look, I don’t really want to get into your past relationships, but obviously, you’re loyal. Ben mentioned how you took care of those guys, doing everything for them, and it leads me to think you’re nurturing.”
“To a fault,” I mutter.
“Why is that a fault? So you like to take care of people? That’s admirable.”
“But Ben would think it’s irresponsible because I let them walk all over me.” I’d heard the unspoken. Ben blames me for enabling the behavior of the men in my past, allowing them to live rent-free, job-free, commitment-free with me.
“It’s different with a child. It’s not enabling. It’s teaching and learning. Lorna’s taught me so many things about people and life. Her attitude and behavior are humbling sometimes. But parenting is a commitment where you expect to give not receive. You’ll receive in so many other ways. In different ways.”
I nod as I know what he means. I’ve seen it with my nephews and niece. It’s all the little things they do with Anna and Ben—the hugs, the apologies, the helpfulness, and the small gifts of gratitude. It’s a trade-off that’s unbalanced but still rightfully weighted as a parent should give more than a child.
“Would you really be able to walk away?” I ask. “Am I asking too much of you? What if I do get pregnant by you?”
I glance over at him as I speak, taking in his casual posture. He sits with his knees raised, arms dangling loosely around them. In profile, he’s magnificent with a strong jaw, firm nose, and high cheekbones. His dark eyes sparkle, reflecting the sunlight dropping in the distant sky.
“I’ll do anything you ask of me,” he says, turning to face me. “I’m not saying it won’t be difficult to know you have my child and want to raise him or her on your own, but I don’t think I’ve mentally gotten to that step in the process. I only want to give you what you ask of me now. Making it happen is the first step.”
“You’re a good man, Logan Anders.” He snorts, and I tip my head to his shoulder. “I didn’t really plan to do it all alone. I’d always hoped one day I’d find the right man who would love me and want to be with me, want to have a family with me. I’m sorry if I’ve asked too much of you.” I hate the pity party I’m having for myself. He turns and presses his lips to my head.
“You haven’t asked of me anything I didn’t want to do for you.”
Staring out at the sun, he finishes his beer and takes mine, finishing it as well.
“What are you thinking?” I eventually ask.
“How I want to lay you out on this sand and watch the sun reflect on your body while I eat you out and hear you scream into the breeze.”
“Jesus.” My core clenches at his directness. Lift my head from his shoulder, he glances over at me.
“See, I’m not thinking about nine months from now or even two weeks. I’m only here in the present, and that present includes you as a gift.”
“You really are sweet,” I admit.
“But I can also be dirty, and I want to be dirty with you.”
“It’s broad daylight.” The sun is setting, but it’s still bright, and the beach is populated enough that sex on the sand would be obscene. Still, the thought of it flutters my insides.
“Maybe we should head back before I do something I don’t think you want to do tonight.” Sorrow fills his voice, and I chew the corner of my lips. I’m not saying I don’t want to continue having sex with him, but it does seem unfair to ask it of him.
He quickly presses upward, standing before me, and reaches down for my hand to tug me off the sand. As I stand, he catches me, wrapping his arms around my waist for a firm hug, and the embrace nearly breaks me. With his hand under my hair, against my neck, and his other hand lower on my back, it’s so nice to just be held, and Logan isn’t letting go. We stand like this for several minutes until a little voice interrupts us.
“Daddy?”
16
[Logan]
The troops have returned, and Lorna stands feet away from me with Mila next to her. In the distance, Ben and Zack are stacking wood in a fire ring. The night is breezy. The air temperature has dropped just enough to hint fall is right around the corner. The first week of August is almost over, and time seems to be speeding up.
“Hey, honey. How was town?” I ask, stepping away from Autumn and feeling the loss of her against me.
“We bought stuff for s’mores and some Moose Tracks ice cream.” Her eyes shift to Autumn and back to me. Without looking, I sense Autumn putting more distance between us.
“I’ve never mastered Moose Tracks in a cookie bar. Maybe I need to try again? Think you can help me with that someday?” Autumn says to Lorna, distracting my daughter from the question written on her face. Why are you hugging my dad?
“Sure,” my daughter answers, not sounding too enthusiastic about baking.
“I’m going to head down to the boys,” Autumn whispers before walking forward. She hesitates near Lorna and Mila. “Hey Mila, come with me.”
I tilt my head for L
orna to follow me. “Come take a walk with me.”
Lorna steps toward me, and we turn for the shoreline where the water laps over the sand. Walking a few feet in silence, I start the conversation.
“Having fun this week?”
“Yeah.”
“You like hanging out with Mila, right?”
“Yes, Dad.” The hint of teenage sass grates on my nerves, but I continue.
“What’s on your mind?” A look crossed Lorna’s face when she saw Autumn and me hugging, and something is rolling around in that brain of hers.
“Nothing.” Is there any worse word in the English language when it comes from children?
“You know that Ben is one of Dad’s best friends.” She doesn’t respond. “And we’ve been friends for a long time, which makes his sister Autumn my friend, too. And friends hug sometimes.”
“I’m friends with Mila. Bryce is her brother. We don’t hug.”
“Umm…” Her quick deduction surprises me. Glancing over at Lorna, I see her head down, feet kicking at the sand as we walk. “Do you want to hug Bryce?” Lord save me. There are only three years between them, but I’d like to think they are young enough the span makes a huge difference. When I was fourteen, I was not looking at eleven-year-old girls.
“No.” Her face pinkens.
“Okay, well, Autumn is . . .”
“Dad, if you want to take Autumn on a date, it’s okay.” Her directness trips me up, and I scratch at the back of my neck, knowing there’s no way I will explain to her what I’m actually doing with Autumn. I also don’t date around Lorna, keeping those moments to the weekends when she isn’t in my house.
“Yeah. I don’t think dating will work as she lives here, and we live in Indiana. But I like spending time with Autumn. We’re all spending time together,” I say, hoping to suggest there’s nothing unusual in the mix of gathered friends.
“I know, but Mom’s dating Peter.” She shrugs. I’m not a fan of my ex-wife’s new boyfriend, Peter, pronounce pe-tear, like derriere. Chloe and Peter have been together for a while, and Lorna doesn’t complain about him, but I still don’t care for him. He spends lots of time having dinner with them or hanging around on the weekends Lorna is with her mom. He’s in international sales, working in the United States for some overseas company. I’m certain one day he’ll return to France where the company’s headquarters are located, leaving Chloe behind.
“You’ll always be my number one girl,” I remind her, slipping my arm around her and tugging her to my side.
“I know.”
I press a kiss to her head and stop walking. “Should we head back?”
“Sure.” She shrugs again, and I keep my arm around her as we return in the direction of the fire Ben and Zack built. “Dad, did you know Mila’s moving here?”
“I did know that. How does Mila feel about it?”
“She says she’s scared to start a new school, but she’s excited to live here. Her room is bigger in this house, plus it has a bathroom in it. She says Lakeside Cottage is her favorite place in the world.”
“Wow. Lucky girl then.”
“Do you think we could move here?” The question gives me pause.
“Why would we move, honey?”
She shrugs once more under my arm. “It’s one of my favorite places, too.”
“Yeah, but you’d miss your friends, right?”
Shrugging happens again, and I wonder what I’m missing. Is she not happy at school? Is something happening with her friends? Chloe has warned me that starting middle school this fall will come with all kinds of transitions and changes for Lorna. We need to be aware of Lorna’s potential to struggle with a new building, new schedules, unfamiliar students, and the possibility of her friend group shifting.
“You know you can talk to me,” I remind her. She shrugs once more but doesn’t offer anything more. Glancing in the distance, we both see that our group has grown and gathered around a now crackling fire. Without a word, Lorna takes off, slipping out from under my arm, and jogging up the sand to meet Mila. The two eagerly step over to the ingredients for s’mores placed on a rock to begin the business of roasting marshmallows.
“Everything okay?” Autumn asks as soon as I rejoin the group.
“I will never understand teenage girls,” I mutter, collapsing down to the sand while Autumn sits in one of the permanent chairs on the beach. “Even when I was a teenager, I could not understand them.”
Autumn softly chuckles, and I want to tug her down to me. I want to wrap around her again as if we are teenagers. Glancing over at my daughter working a marshmallow on a stick, I watch as Bryce asks her if he can help her, and Lorna hands the stick to him. Her head lowers as she does, and her face turns pink once more. Fuck. Shifting on the sand, I sit upright, observing them.
“You okay?” Autumn asks, and I turn to her. Looking back at Lorna a second, and then at Autumn, my chest pinches.
I’d always hoped one day, I’d find the right man who would love me and want to be with me.
Fuck! Is this how Autumn felt as a kid when she was around me? She told me she always thought she and I were meant to be together. Did I disappoint her? Of course, I did. I pushed her away when we were young, and she tried to kiss me, and that hurt. I know it hurt, based on the number of rejections I’ve received from girls not wanting the fat guy in the group.
Oh my God, Lorna, don’t look at Bryce. Don’t desire your best friend’s older brother. It’s all going to lead to heartbreak. He’s going to be a dick one day. He’s never going to deserve you. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead despite the heat of the fire.
“Logan, are you okay?” Autumn reaches out for my forearm, and I stare up at her. “Is it your diabetes?”
“I-I’m good.” I lie because I’m not. I don’t want my daughter falling in love because love can hurt. It can hurt so much. That’s why I’m keeping things in perspective with Autumn. I don’t need to love her. I’ve already hurt her, and I just want to make it up to her with a baby.
“Whatever happened with the house next door?” Mason asks, scattering my thoughts. Zack remains quiet, but Ben answers.
“Some old guy owned it a while back. He rarely came here. We heard he has a wife twenty years younger than him or something like that.”
“Lucky bastard,” Mason teases, lifting a beer for his lips.
“I do not want to hear this,” Zack mutters.
“Anna heard the old man died. He had kids, probably around the same age as his young wife. We haven’t seen anyone there this summer, though.”
Zack shakes his head, and I remember that the house next door to Lakeside Cottage belonged to Zack’s family when he was young.
“What a waste,” Mason mutters.
“Don’t be a dick,” Zack says, turning on Mason.
“What? I just meant it’s a shame a house with this view is sitting empty.” Mason’s words are insensitive, but I understand what he’s saying. As a construction guy, he knows the property is worth millions, while the house isn’t worth half as much after all these years.
“I have a dick,” Zack’s son Trevor blurts. Mason snorts and leans over to fist-bump the kid.
“Me too, kid,” he says.
“Please don’t encourage him,” Zack mutters. “Trevor, remember what I said. We don’t say such words around other people.”
“What’s wrong with dick?” his brother, Oliver, asks, and Zack tips his head back, thudding lightly on the chair back.
“On that note, I think it’s time to get you monsters to bed.” Zack stands, and I turn to Autumn.
Her face glows in the light of the fire. She’s so beautiful. I could love her. I could be that man she’s waited for, who wants her and wants a family with her. Then I glance across the fire and see Lorna and hope inside me shatters just a little bit.
+ + +
The rest of us remain around the fire until darkness coats the sky. Ben and Mason decide to hang out a little longer, but Anna
eventually tells Mila it’s time for bed, and I tell Lorna the same. Lorna and Mila head up the long staircase first with Anna and Autumn behind them, and I follow, deciding I’d like to tuck Lorna in tonight. As we reach the landing halfway up the difficult climb to the house, I catch Autumn’s wrist, and she stops walking.
“Let me hold you tonight.” In the darkness of the trees hovering over the landing, it’s difficult to see her eyes. “We don’t have to do anything more tonight if you need a break. I just want to hold you close.”
She nods, chewing the corner of her lips. I want to lean in and kiss her so badly it hurts, but Lorna is up ahead, and Anna paused on the staircase.
“You guys coming up?”
“We’ll be right there,” Autumn says, leaning in and stealing her own quick kiss from me before breaking free of my hold and taking the steps upward.
After a shower, teeth brushing, and a second drink of water, Lorna is finally settled into Mila’s room, and I head to Autumn’s bedroom, sneaking inside as I’ve done the other nights. Crawling up behind her on the bed, I find her hair wet.
“Did you shower?”
“I smelled like smoke. I don’t like when it lingers in my hair.”
“Should I shower?” I tease, slipping my arm over her waist.
“Nope. You can stay right here.” My lips find her shoulder but long to move lower, into the dip of her neck. However, I promised nothing more tonight, so I just hold her, inhaling her scent and marveling at the fit of her body against mine. We lay on our sides, her back to my chest. Unfortunately, she squirms a little bit, and her firm ass brushes against my front where I’m rock hard.
“You are not making this easy,” I tease, nuzzling my nose into her hair.
“I can’t seem to help it. My body likes how you feel behind me and responds accordingly.”
“Yeah. Like when I had you on your knees last night, pummeling into you?”
Her breath catches, and now I’m just torturing myself with the images of me behind her, sliding in and out of her.
“Yes,” she whispers breathlessly, and I squeeze her tighter to me.
