Same old, same old.
Since Ember hadn’t asked again, Autumn hadn’t brought it up. She hadn’t realized that a newborn at the job site had caused Ember to withdraw into her own thoughts, and now Autumn felt guilty.
Because she’d been stuck in her own head, too.
“I knew Tash had a daughter,” Ember said. “And she looked so shy, I had a feeling you’d be good for her.”
“Shy isn’t really the word. More like watchful.” Autumn pictured Sadie in her mind, with her long red hair and huge blue eyes and that contagious smile. The girl was a heartbreaker without even trying. “I’m not sure what’s going on there, but I know her mother passed away. That’s why she’s living full-time with Tash now.” She took a moment to explain about the car crash, and Tash’s concerns.
“Does he seem like a good dad?”
“Absolutely.” Because it was more complicated than that simple answer, Autumn gave it some thought. “I’m pretty sure his main goal right now is making his little girl’s life secure.”
“That’s even better than being gorgeous and gainfully employed.” Marking a scorecard in the air, Ember said emphatically, “Good dad.”
“Yes.”
“You two would be great together.”
“Whoa.” That was so absurd, Autumn snorted. “Did you miss the part about his focus being on his daughter?”
“Nope. In case you didn’t know, men can multitask same as women. Besides, you wouldn’t be attracted to a guy who didn’t make his kid a top priority.”
“Neither would you,” Autumn reminded her. That, too, was personal for Ember. She’d faced her accidental pregnancy alone since the guy hadn’t been interested—and that made Ember also disinterested in him. Granted, she hadn’t been that into him, anyway, but still...
Rewinding, Ember said, “That part of you being so responsible? I mean it, and tonight is a perfect example. If you called me, would I switch plans for you?”
“I like to think you would.”
Tone flattened, Ember said, “Odds are we’ll never know, because you don’t do lame stuff like this.”
No, she retreated to her room to read. Alone. Adding in a note of lofty humor, Autumn stated, “We’re different but equally awesome people.”
“Hell, yeah.” Steering one-handed, Ember held up her palm for a high five.
Lame, but Autumn indulged her. She liked this mood so much better than the melancholy.
Up ahead, they could see a few torches lighting up the sandy shore of Sunset Lake. Music mingled with laughter while dozens of people enjoyed the night air—single men and women, families with their kids, even a few of the elders in lawn chairs.
It was the number-one thing Autumn loved about her home—the close community.
At times, it was also the thing she disliked most. A close community could be helpful and kind, but nosy and judgmental, too.
Definitely a double-edged sword.
Ember parked on the grass next to a row of cars and trucks. Seeing the crowd gave Autumn second thoughts. “I should have worn a bra.”
Laughing, Ember got the stuff from the back seat. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it—and sis, you’ve got it.”
Yeah... Autumn wasn’t so sure about that.
“Besides,” Ember continued, as they got out of the car, “nearly everyone is in a swimsuit. In comparison, you’re modest.”
Looking down at herself, she was grateful nothing showed. She’d just avoid getting too close to the light. “You’re not wearing a swimsuit.”
“Sure I am. It’s under my cover-up.” Hooking her arm through Autumn’s, she tugged her forward. “Come on.”
The shore of the lake wasn’t naturally sandy, but the county periodically replenished the sand in two specific areas so everyone could swim without getting muddy. Weather-worn gazebos sat at either end of the recreational area, and midway out on the water, buoys designated the safe-swim area, where boats couldn’t intrude.
Autumn loved it here, with the sound of the waves gently lapping the shoreline, the smell of the lake water and all the trees, even the feel of the sand beneath her feet. For most of her life, though, she’d avoided it, or only come to visit during quiet nights, when no one was likely to notice her.
She wasn’t comfortable in a bathing suit and didn’t interact easily with others.
Ember, however, had always been in her element here. She had no problem stripping down to a bikini, and seemed to be close friends with everyone.
“Oh, look, Mike is here.”
Suspicion had her giving Ember closer scrutiny, but her sister was so busy waving to every other man there, Autumn couldn’t quite read her expression. Why point out Mike only to ignore him?
It didn’t last long because Mike jogged over to them. Barefoot, shirtless and wearing only board shorts, he looked scrumptious and she was pretty sure Ember had to notice.
Autumn greeted him with a grin. “You’ve been swimming.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head, sending water droplets to spray them. “It’s good to see you get out a little.”
“Ember coerced me.”
“And look,” Ember said. “You’re smiling.” She thrust the wine coolers at Mike, who almost dropped them, and then—right there, on the spot—she peeled off her cover-up and handed it to Autumn.
Because she was braless, Autumn folded it against her chest and held it within her crossed arms.
Mike made no pretense of looking at Ember in her itty-bitty white bikini. And why should he? Autumn could be biased, but she thought Ember looked better than any other woman there.
She’d always considered confidence to be supersexy in men and women alike, and her sister had the body and the personality that warranted confidence.
“Get in the lake,” Mike suggested to Ember with a smile, “and you’ll warm that water up a few degrees more.” Then he shocked Autumn and Ember both by turning away. “Where do you want your stuff, Autumn?”
Aware of Ember’s disgruntled retreat, Autumn said, “Oh, um...” Abandoned, she wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“How about over here?” Seeming in a hurry to ditch her, Mike headed toward one of the torches.
That’s when she spotted Tash. Talk about scrumptious.
Sprawled over a large towel, resting back on his elbows, he smiled. Autumn followed his line of vision and realized his attention was on his daughter.