Page 4 of Living at 40

“Who?” he answers, still watching Autumn work alongside Anna. His eyes scan her ass as she bends forward to put something in the cooler.

“Your girlfriend.”

Mason gasps and brings his attention to me. “Girlfriend? Dude, I do not do those.”

“But you did,” I mutter, recalling Mason got a woman pregnant. They tried to do the co-parenting thing, but it didn’t work out, and he rarely sees his kid.

“Up top,” Autumn says, standing upright again and holds her hand up palm outward for a high-five from Mason. Images of her as a geeky teen rush back to me. I don’t recall her being so curvy and lush.

Mason doesn’t respond at first, torturing her with his negligence by holding off just long enough for it to be awkward that her hand hangs in the air. Then he reaches over to smack her palm, only he doesn’t smack it. He clasps his fingers around hers and gives her hand an awkward shake before lifting it to kiss her palm.

What the fuck?

The six shades of pink Autumn turn are a beautiful color with her oak-brown hair and coffee-colored eyes. Her choppy-looking cut accentuates the loose curls flowing around that blush-filled face. She’s thinner than I remember and minus some seriously chunky glasses. Somehow, she got the nickname Speck from Mason. I had trouble remembering her name when we first met, but I was also twentysomething and mostly drunk. Her name should have been easy enough to recall. Autumn. A season of change. A new beginning. It’s unusual and pretty and appropriate, considering Ben’s dad was a landscaping man like Ben. She’s no speck now other than a spectacle of beauty.

Fuck. Get your head together, man, and your dick. She’s Ben’s sister.

Mason releases Autumn’s hand, and Anna gives Autumn a not-so-inconspicuous look, side-eying Mason, like they’re once again having some secret conversation. Only Autumn shakes her head and chuckles.

“No,” she mouths, and I very much want to know what that rejecting word means and how I can turn it into a yes toward me. A yes, and a please, more, and those lips sucking . . .

“Logan?”

“Huh?” I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

“Are you going to change? It’s suits and flip-flops attire here,” Anna says as my eyes drift back to Autumn. Is she putting on a swimsuit? Further inspection of her shows the ties of a bathing suit around her neck and thin straps peeking out of her deep V-cut shirt. If she’s wearing a bikini, thank you, Jesus. Then I notice Mason still watching Autumn, and I wonder if Ben’s baby sister owns a muumuu as my mother used to call her cover-ups. No skin for Mason.

“You boys change. I’ll get Calvin and Bryce and have them bring stuff down to the beach for you.” As Anna speaks, Ben steps over to her.

“You don’t have to do it all,” he says, cupping her elbow and pulling her upright from her position bent over a second cooler.

“I want to do this,” she says, her eyes avoiding his until his fingers tip up her chin, and she looks him directly in the face.

“Thank you.” His words are quiet and tender, and I’m suddenly uncomfortable, feeling like I’m witnessing something I shouldn’t see between a couple. I’m not the only one uneasy as I turn my head and notice Zack spellbound by our friends before glancing down at his feet.

“I’m going to get my bags,” he mumbles, hitching a thumb over his shoulder before turning on his heels without a second glance back.

“I’m with you,” I mutter but take another look at Mason standing close to Autumn. He’s watching Ben and Anna while Autumn’s watching him, and the salad I ate an hour ago isn’t settling well in my belly. Once upon a time, I would have shared everything with my former roommate, and there was that one night with a redhead, but that would never happen again and certainly not with Autumn Kulis.

She’s a woman you don’t share. You keep her away from men like Mason and make her yours.

And where the hell did that come from?

3

[Autumn]

“I love you,” Ben whispers to his wife, and my heart falls to my feet. Tears I’m not allowed to shed fill my eyes, and I quickly blink in hopes they don’t escape with Mason so close. He’s watching them as well, and when Anna responds with her own, “I love you,” Mason glances away.

“I need a beer,” he mutters.

“Not until the beach, pretty boy,” I tease. “Grab a cooler.”

“I need my suit.”

“I thought you said Speedos were optional.”

Mason chuckles, breaking free of his stupor over Anna and Ben’s tender moment. He has no idea how important or valuable such words are to a person. Mason’s never been in love. He’s been too busy avoiding it his entire life.