Living at 40 (Lakeside Cottage Book 1)

by L. B. Dunbar

  We’ve had sex. We’ve made out. We’ve fucked.

  But this night, we’re making love as he enters me in a slow dive before dragging back to my entrance, teasing me, testing me. Repeating the motion over and over again, he takes his time to fill me. My back arches, and I lift my head to meet his mouth with mine. My hands scan the scope of his body, not wanting to miss an inch as I cover the plains of his back and the firm hills of his ass. My palms coast over his shoulders and biceps and down to his wrists. His hands rest beside my body, but he entwines our fingers, lifting them above my head. His body stretches over mine, and we move as one in the most sensual dance I’ve ever danced. With tender thrusts and swaying surges, I follow his lead.

  “Autumn,” he whispers. “The scent of leaves. The color of change.” He strains a second. “An ending to something I don’t want to end.” His mouth crashes to mine before I can respond, and I swallow around the invasion of his tongue and the lump in my throat. Our bodies begin to stutter, colliding faster, breaking the slow beat to pick up the pace. His hands clutch at mine, and I respond as if holding on for dear life.

  “Will you get there?” he asks, hinting that he needs to release my hands in order to touch me. He’ll slip his fingers between us and rub where I need his touch, but I don’t want him to let go. I don’t want to release him.

  I shake my head on the pillow. “Come for me,” I whisper to his lips only an inch from mine, and he stills his body while he pulses inside me. Once. Twice. Three times he jolts, and I’m so full. It’s more than the depth of him joined within me. It’s more than the idea of what could be happening inside me. It’s my heart that’s near bursting, and I don’t want to lose this moment. So, I squeeze his hands tighter, and we pause time as he remains over me until he’s gone soft and slips outward.

  And if ever I thought a conclusion has occurred, it’s this moment. He climbs down the length of my body, pressing kisses to my breasts, my belly, and one last spot between my legs before scooting off the edge of the bed. Slowly, he tugs his shorts back on before picking up his T-shirt.

  “Thank you,” he whispers to me, holding my eyes for only a second before turning for my bedroom door and leaving me alone for the rest of the night.

  + + +

  While my body should feel beautiful from the way Logan handled our final act, my heart is black. Breakfast is a chaos of rushed eggs and forced waffles, and I take orders for every request to keep my hands busy and my mind absent. As dishes are cleaned, commands are given to start packing cars and picking up loose items lying here and there. My mother arrives to say goodbye to the boys as she continues to call the forty-year-old men who are friends.

  Before I know it, it’s almost eleven, and we stand in the driveway among Zack’s car and Logan’s SUV. Mason stands nearby with his hands in his shorts.

  “Why aren’t you ready?” Logan asks of him, and Mason turns his head to glance at Ben before facing both Zack and Logan.

  “I’ve decided I’m staying.” His announcement is like a wrecking ball colliding with the house.

  “What?” Logan snaps.

  “What?” Anna adds, turning to face Ben from her position tucked under his arm.

  “Why?” Zack asks.

  “I’m the only one single. Ben’s eventually going to need help. I can offer strength for things his boys shouldn’t do, and Anna can’t muster.”

  My thoughts race to things like bathing my brother and lifting his body.

  “Are you calling me weak?” Anna barks, her tone expresses her shock mixed with a touch of irritation.

  “You’re the strongest woman we know,” Ben says, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and I try not to let the comment sting. “But Mason has offered and . . . we’ll talk.”

  The dismissal tells the rest of us it’s not up for discussion, and Ben doesn’t wish to explain further. Did he ask Mason to stay? If he did, I don’t understand. I thought he wanted time for his family.

  “I’ll be staying over the garage,” Mason announces as if to clarify how he’ll be separate but ready when Ben needs him.

  “What about work? What will your dad say?” Zack asks as Mason works with his father in their construction company.

  “He’ll just have to understand. This is family.”

  Tears well in my eyes. Mason can be an ass, but Ben sees something in Mason the rest of us don’t. It’s the only explanation for why he’s remained friends with Mason all these years.

  “All right then,” Zack says, holding out his hand for Mason. “You call us if you need support.” The handshake is met with a half hug like guys give, but when Zack moves on to Ben, he holds a little longer. Anna gets a full embrace, and I’m reminded that Zack’s and Anna’s families have been connected the longest. Hugs are passed around, even to his little monsters.

  “You be good for your daddy,” I warn Trevor and Oliver, pressing kisses to their heads before they start fighting over who gets to sit where in the back seat.

  Logan steps up next, back-clapping Mason. The pounding from each of them sounds harder than necessary. When Logan steps over to Ben, he captures my brother’s face in his large hands and holds it.

  “You need anything. Anything. You call me.” His eyes shift to Anna. “Anything.”

  Anna nods, and Logan pulls Ben against him, holding a little longer as Zack did. Next, Logan wraps around Anna, and finally, he lifts Mila.

  “Thanks for letting Lorna crash in your room.”

  “She can come stay with me anytime.” Mila’s little voice sounds grown-up and polished like her mother. Logan presses a kiss to her forehead before lowering her to the ground.

  “And stop growing up,” he teasingly warns her.

  Lorna wraps her arms around me, and I hold her head to my breasts. She’s almost as tall as me, and when I press her back, I brush her hair behind her ears, looking her right in the eyes.

  “Ice cream for dinner is our secret,” I tell her. “And practice your cartwheels.”

  Lorna laughs.

  “I’d also say stop getting so beautiful, but I know you can’t help yourself.”

  Lorna beams at my compliment, displaying how beautiful she is. Someday, the boys will notice too, and Logan will have an issue on his hands. Lorna moves over to hug Ben, Anna, and Mila while Logan shifts to me. His arms wrap around my neck, and he holds me against his chest.

  “If I said I had the time of my life, would you hold it against me?”

  I chuckle into his neck as the tears I didn’t want to shed begin to leak.

  “I’m just thankful you held me against you,” I whisper and choke a bit to fight the sob threatening to break next.

  “Dammit, Autumn,” he mutters, soft and broken. “This is not goodbye. We’re still friends. I’ll see you . . .”

  When? And whenever it is, it won’t be the same, and we both know it. I might be pregnant with his child, and I might not. The next time I see him could be the loss of someone we love or the beginning of a new life, but we will never be just friends. We’ll always have this summer. Hopefully, we’ll share something else, but it won’t be something we share together if that makes any sense.

  I nod to agree. “Thank you,” I whisper to him as he did to me last night. Our gratitude for one another is certainly for different reasons. I’m grateful he gave me this chance. I have no idea why he would thank me. Pressing a kiss to my temple, he lingers a moment. I want him to kiss me, but I know it won’t stop there. I’ll want one more kiss, and then one more night, and then more time in general.

  “Let me know when you know something,” he mutters directly against my forehead, and I nod again, unable to find my voice. We could be pregnant. Correction, I could be pregnant, and the thought fills my eyes with blinding liquid.

  “Okay, loverboy, time to break,” Mason crassly interjects, and Logan pulls back. His hands cup my face similar to how he held Ben, and his eyes search mine, but mine are too clouded to read his. When he pulls away from me, I still feel t
he heat of his touch, even as he gives me his back. Even as he climbs into his SUV. Even as he backs out of the driveway.

  Mason slips his arm around me, but I don’t feel it across my shoulders. I can’t find the strength to lift my hand and wave as the SUV pauses at the end of the driveway before turning onto the road, leading Logan home.

  Goodbye, whispers through my head.

  “Aunt Autumn, why are you sad?” Mila asks, and I tip my head to look down at my niece. She was leaning against Anna but stands upright to face me.

  “I’m not sad sad,” I tease, forcing a smile. “These are just happy tears because it was a great adventure but over too soon.”

  Mila stares at me as if she has no idea what I’m saying, and I admit I don’t either. My thoughts are everywhere and nowhere.

  “Okay, sad sad happy girl, let’s go back inside.” Mason presses a quick kiss to the top of my head and then releases me, stepping forward to Mila, who he picks up by her arms. She squeals in delight.

  I don’t know what Mason is doing by staying here. I don’t know what Ben was thinking if he asked him to stay. I only wish I’d had the strength to tell Logan I didn’t want him to go. After a final look at the empty driveway, I head back into the house to collect my things. It’s time I return to my home as well.

  22

  [Logan]

  The three-hour car ride home was difficult between my own distracted thoughts and Lorna’s silence. Watching Mason wrap his arm around Autumn as I pulled out of the driveway was almost enough cause to force me back to the drive and kick his ass. He looked all too happy to be next in line if my sperm didn’t take, and I can’t explain how badly I want it to happen. I want her baby to be mine. I want her to be mine.

  But that isn’t what she wants.

  Last night, I dozed on Autumn’s belly, willing whatever miracle needed to happen to have happened. Willing my little swimmers to get where they needed to go, and at least one break through the necessary barrier to seal the deal. I’d thought of nothing past planting my seed in Autumn but driving away had me heartsick over leaving her behind.

  What if she was pregnant? What next? It wasn’t like I wouldn’t see the kid. I’d be attending whatever function we planned next as friends. Thoughts turned morbid, and I prayed the next occasion we gathered was not a funeral.

  My head is not in a good space as Lorna and I cross into Indianapolis, so to say Chloe dropped a bomb on me when I returned Lorna to her mother’s house is an understatement.

  “Hey, so I wanted to tell you I’ve decided to move to France with Peter.”

  I stare at her as if she’s spoken French. “You’re leaving Indiana?”

  Chloe shrugs, and I wonder what I ever saw in my ex-wife. She was so beautiful when we met, but she changed so much in the course of our marriage and the years afterward that I don’t recognize her anymore.

  “What about Lorna?” How could she leave our daughter behind?

  “What about her?”

  The unspoken lingers between us before I connect the invisible dots. She’ll be going with Chloe. “Over my dead body,” I snap.

  “I can’t leave her with you.”

  I stare at my ex-wife, flabbergast at both her incredulous tone and her distrust in my ability to care for our daughter. Not to mention, she is not taking our daughter outside the country to live.

  “Chloe, I don’t think this is the time to discuss this.” Standing on her front stoop, I have just kissed Lorna goodbye. She has soccer practice during the week, and I’ll be the one taking her, so I’ll see her in a few days.

  “A decision has been made, Logan. I’m moving to France in two weeks, and Lorna is coming with me.”

  Two weeks?

  “Does Lorna know you have plans to do such a thing?” I’d like to believe my child would tell me, even hint at the idea, that her mother was moving them out of the country. When Lorna suggested moving to Lakeside, it would have been the perfect time to mention how she might be moving away, and she hadn’t. Ironically, we’d talked again on the car ride home about Lorna’s desire to move to Lakeside, how lucky Mila was to live there all year, and I had to explain that even if we ever moved there, we wouldn’t be living in Mila’s house or even a house on the water. I can’t afford a million-dollar home.

  “It just sort of happened.” Chloe sweetly smiles, excitement written on her face.

  “What do you mean it just sort of happened? When?”

  “While you were away. Peter learned he needs to return to France, and he doesn’t want to go without me.”

  “And Lorna,” I growl.

  “Well, of course, Lorna.” But that’s not the answer I want to hear, nor will I let another man take my child to another country. I have accepted that I might have to share Lorna with a stepfather one day, but I’ve never been good at sharing.

  “Did he propose to you?” The question comes out harsh and bitter.

  “Well . . . not exactly.” Chloe clutches at the door, her eyes rapidly blinking as she shifts her gaze away from me a second.

  “What exactly did he do then?” I question, grinding my teeth with the discomfort that we actually are having this conversation on her front stoop.

  “He asked me to move to France with him.”

  “With Lorna?” I hiss again.

  “Yes, Lorna.”

  I don’t believe it. Peter might want Chloe, but he doesn’t want my daughter. He can’t have her.

  “I don’t approve.” My arms flap to the side and slap my thigh for emphasis.

  “Do you need to approve?” Chloe stammers, staring at me.

  “Yes. When it concerns Lorna, I do have a say. We agreed we would share in the parenting responsibility.” I exhale. My heart is racing. I don’t like to fight with Chloe, considering it bad form for Lorna to see us at odds, but this is beyond anything we’ve ever encountered in co-parenting. Taking a deep breath, I try to soften my tone. “I don’t want to deny you anything, Chloe, but you cannot take my daughter from me.”

  “Our daughter,” she reminds me, but it appears she’s the one who forgot we share her.

  “Maybe we should ask Lorna how she feels,” I demand, no longer patient with this information. If Chloe wants to do this on the front stoop, then I want Lorna present.

  “She won’t really have a say, but I’ll be talking to her tonight.”

  “Jesus, Chloe, we just got back from a vacation. An emotional vacation. You were the one who told me before we left that we needed to treat her like a budding teenager, on the cusp of womanhood.” I shiver at the thought of Lorna growing older but accept that it’s inevitable. “She should have a choice.”

  “What happened?” my ex-wife asks, ignoring my plea for Lorna’s decision-making ability. Chloe releases the door and crosses her arms over her chest. Her voice rings with concern but not sympathy. It’s more of a what did you do question.

  “It’s . . . nothing. We just had a lot of fun, and . . .” I take another deep breath. I don’t want to tell Chloe about Ben yet. She liked my friends well enough, but she never felt she belonged when we shared vacations or attended weddings, funerals, or reunions. I never understood as everyone was nice to her, but she said she didn’t fit. “We should talk to Lorna together.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  Like she’s handling this? “I’m not saying you can’t.” Although, my jaw clenches as I’m suddenly questioning her ability. On top of learning about Ben and leaving Autumn, this is the last thing I need. It’s also my first priority. “But you cannot take Lorna to France.”

  I glare at Chloe, hoping she reads the warning in my eyes. I will not let my daughter go.

  “Just let me talk to her,” Chloe adds, lowering her head. “I’ll have her call you after we talk.”

  I do not like this solution. I want to see Lorna’s reaction. I want to be present when Chloe springs this bullshit on her, but most of all I need to know if Lorna might want to go. Would she really like to move to France
? She hinted at her fears for the future in middle school. Would crossing an ocean be a solution?

  After swiping a hand through my hair, I cup the back of my neck. “I want a call from Lorna as soon as you are done talking.”

  Chloe smirks at me. “Fine.”

  “Is Peter here?” I should have asked this first. I’d like to throat punch him. He doesn’t want my daughter, and I’m certain of it.

  “No, he’s at his place. I wanted to talk to Lorna alone. Break the news between the two of us first.”

  The only breaking that’s going to happen is skulls if this woman thinks she can take my child across the world, but I tamper down the fear, biting back the threat of lawyers. We’ve never had to go this route, and I don’t want to start, but this is too much.

  When I finally return home, the weight of everything hits me hard. The two-story walk-up is too quiet. After a rowdy vacation with a dozen people in a spacious home, I’m suffocating under the silence and the small size of my place. I miss Autumn immediately, and I can’t settle my concerns for Ben. Now this fuckery with Chloe and the possibility of losing Lorna, and I’m coming out of my skin. I reach for my phone, hovering over Autumn’s contact number.

  Staring at my screen’s background image, which consists of a sunset from Lakeside, I hesitate before tossing the phone on my kitchen island. I can’t call Autumn because that’s not what we had. That’s not what we were about, but I need to talk to someone. I need to scream and shout and wipe away the ache in my chest at the potential of losing too many people I care about—Autumn, Ben, Lorna. Their names circle on repeat until I pick back up my phone and press a different contact.

  “Zack, I need some advice.”

  + + +