“Babe, my ninety-year old grandma can make a sandwich. I just want to make one for you. I’m not the kind of guy who expects to be fed by his woman. I’d rather feed her.”
She grinned. “Okay, let me go freshen up and I’ll see you in the kitchen.”
Pulling her arms through his oversized sleeves, she wrapped his shirt around her and padded into his bathroom. It was sleek, with bright white ceramic wear and shiny grey wall tiles. She leaned on the basin and looked into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her.
It was Autumn… but different. Younger, less careworn. As though the distance between Manhattan and Angel Sands had worn off the roughness and made her new.
She felt different, too. Less afraid of failing, of letting people down… of earning her d
ad’s disapproval.
For so long she’d thought that being herself wasn’t enough. She’d twisted herself into knots to please people. To be the perfect daughter, wife, real estate manager.
And in it all, she’d forgotten who she really was.
Buying the pier was the first thing she’d done to please herself and nobody else. The second was falling for Griff.
And it felt so, so good to be this Autumn. The one who felt strong in the office and a little bit slutty in the bedroom. But always safe in his arms.
For the first time in her life, she could see an alternate ending to the one her dad had always planned on. Was she strong enough to take it?
* * *
The early-morning half-light was spilling into Griff’s open plan living area as she walked to the kitchen and sat on a stool at his breakfast bar. He grabbed two glasses and filled them with orange juice, passing one to her and chugging the other back. Then he pulled out a loaf of sourdough bread, along with some deli meats, pickles, and salad, toasting the bread on one side before loading it up into a tall sandwich Scooby Doo would be proud of.
“You don’t do things halfway,” Autumn said, smiling at the way he carefully cut each sandwich, before sliding them onto a plate and garnishing them with chips.
“I like food. The first taste is always with the eyes.”
“Did Deenie teach you that, too?”
He grinned. “That one I learned for myself. Now eat.” He sat down next to her, refilling their glasses with juice. “You’ll need the energy for tomorrow.”
“What’s happening tomorrow?” she asked, lifting the sandwich to her lips. She had no idea how she was going to fit it in her mouth.
“After the morning sex?”
She laughed. “Just the morning?”
“Yep. We’re going to the beach after that. I figure you need another surf lesson.”
“Getting touched all over by a hot instructor? Count me in.” She bit into the sandwich, a pickle escaping from the end and falling onto her plate. A sensation of flavors exploded on her tongue. Spicy pastrami mixed with sweet, juicy tomatoes and creamy mayonnaise, making her sigh out loud as she swallowed it down. “God, that’s good.”
“Thanks.” He picked up the stray pickle and lifted it to her mouth, feeding it to her. “I’m hoping you’ll make a lot of mistakes. I kind of like touching you myself.”
“People will talk,” she said, finishing off the first half of her sandwich. Her stomach growled with appreciation.
“Does that worry you?” he asked, his eyes soft as they caught hers.
She ran a tongue along her lip, considering his question. “I guess it doesn’t, or I wouldn’t have danced with you tonight. Or kissed you.” She bit down a smile. “All your friends are so kind and non-judgmental. They genuinely care about your happiness, and I guess they care about mine, too.”
“They do. And they like you a lot. They think we’re crazy for making this a casual thing.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “And what do you think?”
He wiped his hands on a napkin and reached out to cup her cheek. “I think you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long while. And I’ll take whatever you want to give.”
Her chest tightened. “What if I want more?” she asked, her voice low, remembering her thoughts as she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.