HisMarriageBargain

by Sidney Bristol

  Autumn shrugged. “Most of it was watching Cathy until last night.”

  Sammi studied her for a moment. “I had an idea.”

  “And that would be?” She tilted her head to the side.

  Sammi rolled the thought around a few more times before speaking it. “What if you did a color tattoo for me?”

  Her brows rose. “You? Color?”

  “Yeah, why not?” He lifted a shoulder, liking the idea more as time passed.

  Autumn perked up, leaning toward him and twirling a piece of hair around her finger. “What would you want?”

  “I don’t know. Surprise me.” She had a good eye, knew him. Trusting her with this would make him nervous, but what the hell?

  Autumn bit her lip and a little spark of brilliance shot back into her eyes. “When?”

  “Whenever you want to.”

  “I have some stuff here, but most of it’s at the shop. I could do it tomorrow if you want.” She started to bob her foot hanging off the couch.

  “That sounds good to me.” He smiled and pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle.

  Autumn grinned at him and the world felt right again. Without her smile, her radiant joy, things just weren’t the same.

  “How about a nap now and I can sketch later?” Autumn suggested.

  “That sounds like a damn good suggestion.” Now that he had her back, the lack of sleep was catching up to him.

  They retreated to the bedroom and stripped down to what they slept in before crawling in. Autumn curled up against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder and arm across his stomach.

  “Just so you know, I did read the file.” Sammi twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He didn’t want to keep the truth from her, though it wouldn’t be a topic they revisited again. “I had to know if what Mom told me was real or if she was making it up.”

  Autumn sighed but she didn’t jump out of bed. “I spent so long burying that life that bringing it up makes me all panicky, but it’s not that big of a deal anymore, I guess. Not if you know about it.”

  “Would you have told me?”

  She was quiet for a moment. “It hadn’t occurred to me to tell you, but depending how long we are together, I probably would have eventually. I’m not great with secrets.”

  “Fair enough.” Basically, what was the point in rocking the boat when he’d kick the bucket before it became an issue?

  “You aren’t mad?”

  “It happened a long time ago.”

  “Not that long ago. What? Like ten for you?” While he was thirty-three, Autumn was twenty-nine. Not that big a difference, but her teen years were that much closer.

  “Shit. It’s been more than ten years. I need to get my boobs redone, for real.”

  “Wait—what?”

  “My boobs.” She tipped her chin up so she could look him in the face. “I got them done when I was seventeen because the club owner told the surgeon he was my dad. Boob jobs don’t last forever.”

  “I kind of like them.”

  “You would, you’re a dude.”

  “What would you change about them?”

  “Make them even, maybe a little smaller. I kind of like them big, but sometimes I feel like they’re too big, ya know?”

  Sammi rolled them so she was on her back and he could properly inspect her breasts. He pushed her shirt up and palmed one, then the other. “I think they’re pretty fantastic.”

  Autumn laughed and her breasts jiggled. As arousing as she was, half-naked and smiling, he was too tired, too worn out to act on it. Sammi drew her shirt down and pulled her back against his chest.

  Tomorrow he’d fuck her lights out but today he just wanted to hold her and know she was there.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Pointillism—Tattoos created by dots of pure color arranged to form a larger image.

  Autumn gathered her courage around her like a coat and pushed through the back door of the So Inked shop. Music played over the stereo, quiet still since the shop wasn’t technically open.

  Pandora and Carly glanced up from where they had their heads together at the front desk.

  “Hey, guys.” Autumn smiled and set her bag down at her station.

  “Hey.” Pandora glanced at the front doors.

  “Where have you been?” Carly pivoted her chair on one wheel to face her, worry creasing her face.

  “It’s a long story.” Autumn glanced at the figure moving along the front windows.

  Mary grasped the front door and pulled it open. The moment she stepped over the threshold her gaze landed on Autumn.

  “Hi, Mary.” Inside Autumn quaked. This wasn’t going to end well. She didn’t need anyone to tell her that.

  “Office,” Mary barked.

  Autumn didn’t know if she wanted to be alone with Mary or if she’d prefer the whole embarrassing tableau played out in front of her friends. But it wasn’t up to her. She preceded Mary into the office and sat on the couch, feeling as if she were a student in the principal’s office. Mary slammed the door shut behind her and paced the width of the room, not speaking a word.

  Autumn felt guilty for not being as in touch with the girls over the last few weeks. Mary in particular seemed to be having a rough time, but she never confided in anyone except Kellie.

  Mary wheeled to face Autumn, her full, swing-style skirts swishing around her knees. Her dark gaze held no pity. “You’re fired. We can’t do this anymore. Pack your things and leave.”

  Fired?

  Autumn gaped at her boss and friend. She’d known she was on thin ice, but firing her? Really?

  “Mary, please. I can explain.” There was a good reason, not something bogus and stupid. Autumn shoved to her feet.

  Mary crossed her arms and shook her head. “No. I’m not doing this anymore. You don’t show up. You’re unreliable. I’ve had enough.”

  “Please. You don’t understand—”

  “Because you never call in. You just leave and flounce back in here expecting us to all take you back, make your appointments reschedule.” Mary yelled—actually raised her voice—and used whole sentences. Autumn gaped at her. Mary sucked in a deep breath and hugged herself. “No more. I’m not going to tell you again. You’re fired. If you’re not off the premises in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the cops.”

  Mary was serious. Fucking serious.

  Weren’t friends supposed to have your back?

  Didn’t the years of being there for Mary and Sam matter at all?

  She’d practically helped raise Sam, and this was how she was treated when her life got really bad?

  “Fine. You want me gone? I’m leaving. Fuck you.” Autumn stormed out of the office and kept her head down.

  She unlocked the rolling cabinets and started dumping things into her purse. There were plastic bags in one drawer and she filled those, stuffing them with anything and everything she could grab until all that was left was a roll of paper towels and some trash she’d stuffed behind her machines.

  “Want me to give you a hand?” Pandora asked from the other side of her table. Carly sat next to her, eyes large and round. Little wisps of hair floated away from her face and she chewed her bottom lip.

  Autumn swiped at her cheeks.

  She was crying?

  Again?

  Fuck all this crying bullshit. Autumn was done with it. Her initial reaction was to tell Pandora to go fuck herself, but none of this was Pandora’s fault. Autumn was the orchestrator of her life. Not Pandora or Mary.

  “Sure. Thanks.” Autumn handed two of the plastic bags over to her.

  “Don’t forget your pictures.” Carly pointed at the framed snapshots hanging over her station.

  The painted canvas she’d leave, but the pictures she’d take. Most of them featured some combination of the five women, and while she wouldn’t want to look at them for a while, Autumn didn’t want to leave them either.

  They were her friends.

  The family sh
e’d chosen for the last couple of years.

  Autumn stared at the grinning faces. One of the pictures dated back to a few weeks after Pandora had joined them. Hell, she’d still had dark bruises on her face from her fucktard ex-fiancé, but she’d rebounded fast. Autumn was between Pandora and Kellie, with Mary on the end. They’d all worn the first batch of So Inked shirts. Together they’d created something amazing, and her chapter here was closing.

  She grabbed a tissue and daubed her eyes and nose.

  “Come on, we should get you out of here before Mary comes out.” Pandora picked up another bag. “Kellie comes back Monday. She’ll talk some sense into Mary.”

  Autumn nodded and gathered the last of her things. The truth of it was she couldn’t argue with Mary’s assessment of her performance. Autumn knew it was subpar, but what could she do? There was only so much she could handle right now.

  The trio made their way out the back of the shop into the toasty Texas morning, the sun stabbing daggers into her eyes. Her sunglasses were under all her equipment in her purse. She was able to dig out her keys and loaded the backseat full of her belongings.

  “What happened?” Carly asked, breaking the silence.

  Autumn closed the door and leaned against the car. “Mary fired me.”

  “Yeah, but where were you?” Carly didn’t act surprised by Mary’s verdict on Autumn’s employment, but then again, this decision had probably been unfolding the entire time she was gone.

  Autumn quickly brought them up to date on the ongoing family drama, CliffsNotes version. Both women had nearly identical expressions of slack-jawed shock.

  “That’s crazy,” Pandora said, shaking her head.

  “I can’t believe that’s what’s been going on.” Carly slumped in her chair and pushed a hand through her hair.

  “You should have called us. We’re your friends. We’re here for you.” Pandora’s fierceness warmed Autumn’s heart.

  “Yeah, and bring my mother into your lives? No thanks. Plus, Kellie would kill me if that happened.”

  “Kellie’s our boss and our friend, not our mother,” Pandora retorted. She closed the distance and gave Autumn a quick hug. “Please, call me next time? Even if I can’t help, I want to be there for you. We’re going to figure this out. Mary will cool down. Kellie will talk sense into her.”

  In the moment Autumn wasn’t sure she wanted to come back to So Inked, but in her heart she knew a piece of her would always belong here.

  “And I’ll apologize out the ass.” Autumn sighed, not as convinced about the happy ending Pandora predicted.

  “We need to get inside.” Carly glanced at her phone.

  “Yeah, you don’t want Mary to fire you too.” Autumn hugged Carly’s shoulders and blew out a breath. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be okay.”

  Autumn didn’t know if she believed it, but her friends needed to hear it. Between Sammi, her mother and now her jobless status, things were stacking up against her, and she didn’t know if she was strong enough for this.

  * * * * *

  “Mom, I’m not coming over today,” Sammi said for the tenth time since answering the phone. He ground his teeth and stared at his house. Autumn’s car was in the driveway. He hadn’t expected her to be home so early.

  “We always have lunch together. What is the meaning of this nonsense?” He could picture her tilting her chin up in that haughty manner she got when she didn’t like an answer. It had surprisingly little effect on him.

  “Because I’m not ready to forgive you for what you did to Autumn.”

  “She is a Jezebel, Samuel. That woman is evil,” she spat, showing an uncharacteristic break in her serenity.

  “Autumn is my wife, and you’re going to have to get used to that because it’s not changing.”

  “What will everyone think of her? Consider that. She is not an appropriate bride. You met her mother. She’s not from good stock.” Her accent, which normally only flavored the occasional word, rose to texture her speech.

  What was it about Autumn that made her so angry?

  “I don’t care. I’m not going to argue this with you and I’m not coming over for lunch or dinner.” He’d seen his mother almost every day since his father passed away with the exception of his elopement and the occasional business trip. His sudden change of habit was probably unsettling for her, but this shit had to stop.

  “Samuel, you’re leaving your mother alone?” She gasped and though he knew she was manipulating him, he couldn’t cut her out of his life.

  Sammi gritted his teeth. Part of him wanted to leave her to her own devices, but he was all she had.

  “Tomorrow. But we aren’t discussing or mentioning Autumn. I’m serious.”

  “I’ll get Chef to make your favorites.”

  “See you tomorrow.” He regretted agreeing to see her the moment the words left his mouth, but it was too late now.

  Sammi hug up the call and scrubbed his face. He’d worry about his mother later. The prospect of a relaxing evening at home was appealing for the first time in his life. Before he’d suspected his reoccurring illness, Sammi had spent all of his non-work hours at restaurants, parties and clubs. There was something empty about the idea of going out now.

  He gathered his things and headed inside the house, where he was greeted with the sounds of loud, female-led music. There was a pile of bags to the right in the formal living room, most of which looked tattoo-related. Bottles of ink, a box of gloves and ointment.

  “Autumn?” he called as he proceeded into the kitchen.

  Autumn spun around from where she was in the process of pulling what appeared to be cookies from the oven. “You’re home.”

  “I am.”

  She kicked the oven door and it popped up with a clang.

  “What are you doing home early?” He set his things down on the floor since most of the counter space was taken up with ingredients, plates of cookies and the general mess of baking.

  Autumn placed the sheet down on a stack of dishtowels and braced her hands on the edge of the island. “I got fired.”

  Sammi stared at her, the words not quite processing.

  “Mary was pissed I’d missed more work, so she canned me. I cleaned out my station this morning and here I am.” Her voice was pained and she couldn’t seem to look at him, her gaze everywhere but him.

  If there was one experience he’d never had it was being fired. Since he’d gone to work for his father in his teens, he’d had a job. Considering her circumstances, he couldn’t imagine the sense of confusion, loss and anger she must be feeling. So Inked was more than a job for her.

  “Come here.” He shuffled around the counter, opening his arms.

  Autumn didn’t come to him. She kept her arms crossed and her gaze on the tile floor, so he went to her. He couldn’t argue with her boss’s decision. When he’d gone by the shop he’d wondered how this would turn out.

  “Do you have more to bake?”

  “Not without going to the store,” she mumbled.

  “Why don’t we grab a plate of cookies and watch a movie or something?”

  “I guess.”

  Two hours and a comedy later, Autumn had relaxed enough to lay her head in his lap. She’d polished off almost an entire plate of cookies on her own. Sammi had nibbled on all of one. He didn’t think his stomach could handle something so rich. The last few days he’d subsisted on noodles, broth and crackers.

  His health was failing.

  It was the nicer way of saying he was dying.

  “You know, maybe this will work out,” he mused aloud.

  “What do you mean?” Autumn rolled to her back and studied him, her head pillowed on his thigh.

  “You getting fired. What if I take off more time and we do stuff? I’ve always wanted to sky dive. Maybe drive a race car. What if we used this time to do stuff we’ll never get to again?”

  “Like a bucket list or something?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean.” He
rolled the idea around and found he liked it.

  “Do you have one?”

  “A bucket list?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Kind of. Just a list of things I want to do someday.” Autumn sat up and pushed to her feet. “Let’s make one.”

  Sammi took her hand and they made their way into the never used office space. Furniture and a box of supplies had been put in here, but it still had a showroom-like feel.

  They sat in the two guest chairs and rummaged around in the office supply box until they came up with a pen and paper. Autumn took charge of those, a flicker of mischief in her eyes.

  “First two. Skydive. Drive race car.” She wrote as she spoke. “What else?”

  Now that it came time to put pen to paper, Sammi was drawing a blank. What did he want to do?

  “Get a color tattoo.” Autumn grinned as she wrote it.

  Sammi laughed. “Okay. Got a design in mind?”

  “Actually, yeah. I sketched something yesterday.” Her hand fluttered to her neck, where she still wore the Star of David. “Okay, so what about stuff you’ve seen in the movies? Or always wanted to do?”

  “Ride a bull.”

  She stared at him, not a hint of amusement on her face.

  “Fine. Not a good idea. How about ride a horse?”

  “That’s more like it. Let’s leave off the potentially life-threatening things. There’s enough going on in that category without asking for bad news.” She scrawled another line. “Anything you want to see?”

  “Holocaust Museum in DC. The pictures alone are, well, they’re tough to look at. I think I’d like to make a trip there. See some of the sights.” While Sammy wouldn’t consider himself a devout person to his faith, the Holocaust had changed his ancestors’ lives.

  “What about other spiritual stuff? Anywhere you want to go or see or do?”

  Sammi shook his head. “I went to Israel when I was a kid. It was amazing, but I don’t think taking a trip of that magnitude is a good idea.”