Page 47 of 500 First Editions (The Romantics #3)

AUTUMN

FAMILY FEUD

L abor Day blazed bright and hot. The September skies were a blissful blue. I stood at the kitchen island, chopping a head of lettuce as the clock ticked closer to dinnertime.

The house had been cleaned from top to bottom, but the countertops were a mess from the afternoon’s grocery store haul.

Ryan and I had raided the local supermarket to put together a cookout fit for royalty. Or at least a cookout fit for my family.

The scent of freshly lit charcoal floated through the open window. Ryan stood sentry at the grill, guarding the flames as they licked up into the sky.

I stole a glimpse of him as I picked up the chopped lettuce and dropped it onto the platter. The tomato was next. Personally, I hated tomatoes on burgers. It wasn’t the taste. I just hated how cold and wet they were.

“Ry!” I shouted so he could hear me outside.

He poked his head in the back door and smiled as he mopped up the sweat on his face with the hem of his shirt. “Yes, ma’am?”

I shot him a bashful look. “Do you like tomatoes on your burgers?”

“I’m not mad at it if they’re there, but I don’t actively seek them out,” he said as he strode across the kitchen.

I pursed my lips to hide my smile.

“Why?” he asked as he came up behind me and caged me against the counter with his palms locked on the edge.

I leaned back against his chest. “Just curious. Seems like something I should know about you.”

“What else do you want to know?”

That list was endless.

In some ways, it felt like I knew Ryan Ford better than almost anyone.

Months of constant togetherness will do that.

It felt like he had become my best friend—like kids who go off to camp and spend an entire summer together without knowledge of who the other person was before they landed in the woods.

In other ways, it still felt like we were strangers.

“All of it,” I said.

“Ask and I’ll tell you.” Warm hands roamed my waist and stomach—and then my ass, of course. “Promise me, you’ll give me time to tell you everything you want to know,” he whispered behind the shell of my ear.

“I think we have plenty of time,” I said with a light laugh.

Ryan peppered my shoulder with kisses. “I only have two and a half weeks left. Three weeks until the rental is up and you move on.”

The relationship challenge . . . Right.

My stomach sank into churning acid.

“You’re getting close to the end of your first draft,” he said. “Where are you going after this?”

“I don’t know,” I said as I swallowed the unease. “I wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place.”

“I think where we end up is where we were always supposed to be.”

I looked down at the bright red tomato. “Yeah.”

“Need help?” he murmured as he kissed up my neck.

I craned my neck to the side, hoping he would keep kissing me. Sparks skittered in a torrent, snaking around my limbs as his breath caressed my skin.

“Wills?” he whispered.

The table—and memories of what we had done on it—caught my attention as he kissed behind my ear. “Hmm?”

Ryan’s chuckle was absolutely devastating to the dryness of my underwear. “Stop eyeing the table. It’s for eating food today. Not eating you.” He playfully smacked my ass. “Time to get going on those vegetables, cupcake. Your family will be here soon.”

I set the knife on the cutting board and peeled out of his grasp with a huff.

“Where are you going?” he called after me.

“To change my fucking underwear,” I groused.

I could hear Ryan’s laugh all the way from the bedroom as he walked back out to check on the grill.

Quickly, I wiggled out of my shorts, grabbed a new pair of panties, and got dressed again.

Damn him.

“All better?” he called.

I flipped him the bird.

“Trouble in paradise?” Amber snipped as she let herself in.

Our mom was right behind her, carrying a glass dish full of my favorite childhood dessert—Watergate salad.

“ Amber ,” she hissed, as if my sister was five-year-old instead of a woman closing in on forty.

“All’s good,” I said as I ran the knife through the tomato and arranged the slices on the platter of burger toppings. I did the same with the onions, but set them aside so Ryan could toss them on the grill. “Did you have the day off?” I asked my mom.

“I made a house call this morning,” she said as she set the dish on the table, right where Ryan had?—

Nope. Nope. Nope. I was not thinking about what Ryan and I did on that table while my mother was in the room.

“Oh really?” I said, trying to get my bearings and swat that memory out of my mind.

“There’s a lady who’s had me doing her hair for ages. She can’t leave her house to get to the salon, so I go do her wash and set at her house once a week. She’s a riot. Can’t get around much, but her mind is sharp as ever.”

“I bet she has lots of good stories,” I said as I dumped the cutting board into the sink and washed my hands.

Ryan and I hadn’t prepared anything fancy—just burgers, baked beans, chips, fruit and veggies, and chocolate chip cookies since we had finally figured out the recipe.

The grill sizzled as Ryan dropped patties onto the grates, making my stomach growl. “We should be ready to eat in a minute,” I said.

“Anything I can help with?” Mom asked.

I handed her the plate of raw onions. “Mind taking those out to Ryan so he can grill them?”

While she slipped outside, I racked my brain for anything to say to Amber that wouldn’t earn me a sneer or derisive huff. Surprisingly, she beat me to it.

“It looks different in here,” she clipped with a smack of her gum.

“Yeah. Bev said the last renters trashed the place.” I sighed. “They had to re-do a lot of it. The second bedroom still isn’t done.”

“Looks way better,” she sneered.

And there it was. Everyone always said sisters were mortal enemies growing up and best friends as adults. Amber and I had been thick as thieves when we were younger. But somewhere around our teenage years and early twenties, something had changed.

Thankfully, Ryan and Mom came back inside, laughing as they chatted away.

He gave me a peck on the cheek as he added the plate of burger patties and grilled onions to the spread.

I wasn’t surprised that they had immediately fallen into a conversation. Ryan could get to know a piece of drywall and make it believe it was the most important thing in the world.

He made me feel like the most important thing in his world.

“Fill me in,” Ryan said, pointing to the Watergate salad as we descended on the food to load up our plates. “What is that?”

“Taste it before you judge it,” I clipped. “It’s my favorite. And I would choose that entire bowl over you.”

Ryan put a respectful helping on his plate, though I did clock the way he shuffled away the rest of his food so it didn’t touch the pale green fluff.

“It’s pistachio pudding, crushed pineapple, Cool Whip, and marshmallows,” Mom said. “Some folks put nuts or maraschino cherries in theirs, but Autumn likes it plain.”

“It’s better with cherries,” Amber clipped.

“Do we have some cherries in the fridge still?” I asked Ryan before turning back to Amber. “We made old fashioneds the other night. I think we might have some if you want to put them in yours.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. I think there were a few left,” Ryan said, offering Amber a smile.

She just huffed and plopped down at the table, picking at her burger. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not eating it anyway.”

My mom cut her eyes from Amber to Ryan to me, but quickly looked down at her plate.

“I’m almost done with the book I’m writing,” I said to break the silence.

Amber stuck her tongue out. “Who even reads anymore? Books are so, like, old.”

“It’s my job,” I clipped. “And lots of people read for fun.”

“‘Reading’ and ‘fun’ do not belong in the same sentence,” she sneered.

Ryan bit into his burger with a bit more rage than necessary.

“What setting did you pick?” Mom asked, completely ignoring Amber.

“Here,” I said.

Amber curled an overly plump lip. “You wrote a book about Kansas ?”

“Not a book about Kansas. A book set in Kansas. It’s just the backdrop, but I think it’s coming along pretty well.”

“I stole a peek at it over her shoulder the other day,” Ryan said with a grin. “I can’t wait to read it.”

“When is it coming out?” Mom asked.

“I’ll publish it right after the holidays.” Before I could get anything else out, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, and my heart sank.

“What’s the matter?” Ryan asked quietly. But it wasn’t quiet enough when it was just the four of us.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to keep the mood high. “Just dad telling me he can’t make it.”

Amber’s face turned frosty. “You invited dad?”

“And Lisa and Bev,” I said. “But Bev was getting ready for renters at one of her other properties and Lisa had to work.”

Ryan wrapped his hand around my thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Amber scoffed. “Why would you invite Lisa?”

“Because she’s?—”

“She’s just some weird lady. She’s not family. She’s not anything,” Amber said.

Ryan stiffened.

“She’s my friend,” I shot back. “She cared enough to drive to Kansas City when I had an event. That’s more than I can say about you.”

Mom bristled.

Amber’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up with a victorious smile. “Hold on. It’s Dad.”

My blood boiled. Heat wrapped around my neck, and then everything went numb. “ What? ” I had texted and called him for the last week to see if he would come over, but all I got was silence.

Amber got his attention though.

Suddenly, all my favorite foods soured and I didn’t feel like eating.

“Girls, it’s not a competition,” Mom said with a heavy sigh. “Goodness.”

But it was a competition when we had to fight over who got to see our parents.

Amber was always our dad’s favorite. Every other weekend at his house was spent with him doing everything to appease Amber, and letting me tag along for the ride.

Mom was running around, trying to keep the salon afloat, too busy to give us the time of day.

Maybe that’s why I had always gravitated toward Shep, then Shep and Lisa.

They made time. They chose me when they didn’t have to.

Ryan made time. Ryan chose me when I tried to push him away.

Wander, Willow, Jack, and Miles made time. They chose me when it was inconvenient.

I could hear Ryan grinding his teeth from how tightly his jaw was clenched.

“I’m not competing,” I said as calmly as I could. “I just want to spend time with you guys. I’ve barely gotten to see you two and I’ve been here for months.”

“I’m just slammed at the salon,” Mom offered with an apologetic smile. “But we’ll have all the time you want to chat when you let me do your hair. Did you decide on a color yet?”

“Actually I might just have you blend the roots or something. I think I might let it grow out a bit.”

Mom’s spirits lifted. “I think that’ll look nice. It’ll give you more time to decide what you want to do next.”

“Ew. Who actually wants to be a brunette?” Amber said with a derogatory laugh.

My sister knew exactly how to push my buttons. When we were kids, she would tease me relentlessly for having boring hair, when she and my mom were bubbly blondes.

Amber was the reason I had started dying my hair every color of the rainbow whenever the mood struck. I didn’t want to be like her, but I didn’t want to be boring.

“I’ve always had a thing for brunettes,” Ryan said with a wink and flirtatious nudge.

“Aaaand my appetite’s gone,” Amber said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

“We have dessert,” I offered. “Just cookies and ice cream, but they’re homemade and really good.”

Ryan must have heard the desperation in my voice, because he was quick to drape his arm around my shoulder.

“Have you decided where you’re going to travel to next?” Mom asked. “Or are you going to stick around here a little longer?”

Amber stuck her tongue out and pretended to gag.

“You can go,” Ryan said, as if he was simply asking for someone to pass the veggie tray, but I was so startled that I choked on my bite.

Amber was stunned that someone had actually dismissed her.

My mother didn’t know what to think.

But Ryan just picked up another chip, dunked it in the French onion dip, and popped it in his mouth. “You’re welcome to stay, but you’re not going to act like a child.”

“And just who do you think you are?” Amber said, aghast.

“I’m the boyfriend,” Ryan said.

“The fake boyfriend,” Amber spat. “I know all about your little dare.”

“So does most of the internet,” Ryan countered. “It’s not a secret. Now, we both want you to stay, but the choice is yours.”

“I’m leaving,” she huffed as she stormed to the door.

Mom looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. “We drove together,” she said instead of directly telling me she was leaving too.

I wanted time with my mom. I just didn’t want to have to fight for it. “I can give you a ride home,” I offered.

“Thanks for having us over,” Mom said as she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I should drive her home. Call the salon and schedule an appointment. We can chat then.”

The numbness came back as the door opened and closed.

“Wills—”

I didn’t bother moving or even looking at Ryan.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I should have kept my mouth shut. Look, I’ll go over to their house and apologize.”

“Don’t,” I said solemnly. “Someone had to tell her off and we both know it wasn’t going to be me.” I dropped my head into my hands. “I don’t know what happened with them. I just . . . I want my family back.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered as he pulled me into a hug.

“I was thinking about staying here longer,” I admitted between the sniffles that were soaked up by his shirt. “But this . . . It’s not home anymore.”

“What’s the dream?” he murmured.

I buried my head into the crook of his neck. “Little house. Big van.”

“Where?”

“Halfway between home and heaven.”

Ryan stroked my hair. “Have you figured out where that is yet?”

Yes, I thought. But I shook my head no.