Feels Like Home: A Southerland Family Contemporary Romance Book 1 (12 page)

“
Don’t you look pretty?”
Autumn scooped Abby up and planted a kiss on her forehead before
setting her down so she could hug her sister. Summer felt as frail
as she looked and a fist closed around Autumn’s heart. She had to
figure out a way to convince her sister to leave that asshole
Dwayne. Something about him was making her sick.

“
Momma let me wear my party
dress.” Abby twirled, sending her robin’s egg blue skirt spinning.
“I only got to wear it one time before.” Her brow wrinkled for a
moment. “Gramma Marion got it for me.” She reached for Autumn with
one hand and her mom with the other and tugged them towards the
steps.

“
Are you ready?”

Autumn looked over her niece’s head to
Summer. “As I’ll ever be. Thanks for coming with me.”

Summer gave her a weak smile and together
they started up the stairs.

The usher handed her a bulletin and she
stepped into the sanctuary. The slightly sweet musty smell of old
flowers and too much perfume immediately took her back to childhood
and sitting next to Gran on Sunday mornings. It had only been a few
weeks since she’d been here for the funeral, but the family used a
different door that day and she’d been so sad. She hadn’t paid
attention to anything around her.

This was different. Walking
down the center aisle like she’d done hundreds of times growing up
brought the memories crashing down on her. Gran sitting in her pink
suit singing
Down by the
River
, digging in her white vinyl purse to
get the offering envelope, passing her and Summer root beer barrels
to suck on during the sermon so they wouldn’t fidget, it was all
here in this one place.

The grief hit her in the stomach and she
reached for her sister’s hand. Maybe this had been a bad idea. She
wasn’t ready to expose herself like this. It might be okay if they
could hide in a pew, but as she walked down the center aisle in
front of a significant slice of the town’s population, she realized
she didn’t know where to sit.

There weren’t labels on the pews but there
may as well have been. Congregation members sat in the same place
week after week. Pews were practically passed down from one
generation to the next. Gran’s seat used to be on the right hand
side in the middle.

Autumn paused a couple of rows before where
they sat as children, unsure whether anyone else had claimed the
spot. Abby was the one who led her to the pew.

“
We sit here,” she said,
tugging Autumn’s hand.

She knew Abby and Summer would have gone to
church with Gran, but it never occurred to her that they continued
after Gran got sick. It embarrassed her how little she knew about
her sister. Before she could sink further into her own thoughts,
the lay reader welcomed the congregation and they were off into the
service.

Abby went to the front for the children’s
moment, looking like a picture in her pretty blue dress. The
congregation watched intently, the older members because the kids
were so cute and the parents to make sure their little angels
didn’t act up. When the children followed their teacher out of the
sanctuary, Autumn slid closer to her sister. They sat side by side,
sharing a hymnal and Autumn felt the peace of being in church with
her sister fill some of the empty places in her heart.

After the service, they left through the
front, missing the chance to shake Reverend Riley’s hand. There was
no shortage, however, of people to greet them. Although it seemed
like everyone had accepted Summer and Abby, Autumn collected her
fair share of “bless your hearts” and looks like the one Mrs.
Morris had given her the day before.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t even manage to
get angry about old Mrs. Morris. Any thoughts of what she said were
burned away by Jude saying she mattered. And by the memories of his
kiss. Besides, there were some people who seemed genuinely glad to
see her in church, including Mrs. Mayhew from Andrew’s office.

Autumn waited in the hall
and smiled her best
I’m friendly and
approachable
smile while Summer went to
claim Abby. Most of the people who passed her were parents either
on their way to get their kids or hustling them out the door. She
grinned at a dark haired boy of about eight or nine who trailed
behind his determined mother and baby sister. He glanced over his
shoulder to make sure his mother wasn’t looking and then the little
punk gave her the finger. She coughed to hide her surprised
noise.

She wasn’t about to accuse someone’s little
angel of making obscene gestures. Not like anyone would believe her
anyway. The future felon was retreating through the double doors
into fellowship hall when her phone vibrated. She dug through her
purse, snagging the phone with one ring to spare. A quick glance at
the phone showed Jude Southerland’s name.

She’d programmed his name and number into her
phone when she started working for him, but he’d never called her
before.

“
Some little kid just gave
me the finger.”

“
Where are you?

“
Church.” She let some
indignation slip into her voice.

“
Figures,” he said and she
pictured him grinning that handsome smile that took her breath.
“Methodist, right?”

The fact that he knew made her pause, but of
course Gran would have told him and probably tried to convert him.
“Yes.”

“
I knew it. Stuff like that
never happens with the Baptists.”

She gave a completely unladylike snort and
slipped into one of the empty classrooms so people wouldn’t see her
talking on her phone.

“
Really. We wash it right
out of the little hellions.”

“
You’re Baptist?” She asked
the question even though she already knew the answer. He didn’t go
to Gran’s church and with the exception of a small Presbyterian
church whose members were mostly transplants, Baptist was the only
other choice.

“
Born and raised, a fact
your grandmother worked hard to change. She made a compelling
argument but knowing you’re going to church there might get me to
switch.”

“
You cannot be that
fickle,” she teased.

“
You’re probably right.
You’d have to at least agree to marry me to get me to risk
generations of Southerland disapproval. Methodists.” He snorted
this time but she barely heard him over the ringing in her
ears.

“
Your ancestors would roll
over in their graves,” she said when she could talk
again.

“
What do they know? They’re
dead anyway.”

Why was he teasing her like this? She’d been
pretty obvious about her desire for him. He couldn’t possibly think
he had to promise her something he couldn’t deliver to get her into
bed. There couldn’t be a real future for them. Surely he knew that,
but that kind of game playing didn’t match the man she knew. Maybe
it was just his misguided way of flirting.

“
Dead but not forgotten.
Did you have a reason for calling me on the Lord’s day?”

“
I do. If you’re still at
church you haven’t eaten? Unless those Methodists do a social
hour.”

“
Not today, no.” Autumn
looked up to see Summer standing in the doorway with Abby. “Abby
and Summer and I will probably just grab something on the way
home.” Summer arched an eyebrow, and Autumn felt like a teenager
caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“
Why don’t I grab some
pizzas and meet you there? That way we can get a jump start on the
painting.”

He was serious about coming over to help her.
When he’d offered, she hadn’t really thought he meant it. She felt
her forehead wrinkle with the effort of reconciling the outrageous
tease with the man who actually seemed to want to help her. From
the doorway Summer mouthed “Who?”

“
Dr. McHottie,” she mouthed
back and her sister’s eyes widened.

“
You don’t have to do
that.”

Summer shook her head vigorously and
whispered “Say yes. Whatever he wants say yes.”

“
I want to. See you in
about an hour,” he said and hung up before she got out more than a
stunned okay.

“
So?” Summer watched her
expectantly while Abby peered around her in the doorway.

“
Dr.” She barely caught
herself before she said McHottie in front of Abby. “Southerland is
bringing pizza over and then staying to help me paint.”

“
Pizza!” Abby vibrated in
the doorway.

“
Really,” said Summer,
dragging out the word. “We’ll get out of your way.”

“
No!” Abby and Autumn
shouted in unison.

“
Momma, I want
pizza.”

“
He’s counting on you being
there. You can’t leave me.”

“
How could I resist the two
of you?” Summer said, smiling. “But just pizza. We’ll get out of
your way before the painting starts.”

Abby looked disappointed but given the
promise of pizza she didn’t seem willing to press her luck.

“
But I want you to stay.
You don’t have to paint. I just wanted to spend the afternoon with
you guys.” And if seeing the sunny lemon bedroom made Summer think
about moving in with her, so much the better.

“
We’ll see,” said Summer,
sounding like the mother she was.

Autumn fist bumped her niece on the way out
the door.

Jude pulled into the driveway right behind
Summer. At Autumn’s insistence they’d gone home to change clothes
so they could stay to help paint. Jude got out of his car juggling
pizza boxes, two liter bottles of soda, and a six pack of beer.
Autumn jumped out of the porch rocker to help, but her sister and
Abby got there first.

“
Thanks, Miss Abby,” Jude
said, handing her one of the bottles of soda.

“
Healthy food choices, Dr.
Southerland,” said Summer, taking the other bottle.

Autumn grinned at them, grateful to see her
sister looking playful again. Whatever was going on with Dwayne was
reversible. She had to get her sister away from him.

“
This is weekend food.” He
raised the six pack. “During the week I’m a salad and carrot juice
kind of guy.” He wrinkled his nose and made rabbit teeth at Abby
who giggled.

“
Don’t believe a word he
says,” called Autumn from the porch. “I’ve seen what he eats for
lunch.”

Abby laughed and ran up the porch steps,
clutching her contraband to her chest. Summer followed, making
kissy faces at her and Autumn smacked her butt as she went past.
And then Jude was standing on her porch, carrying pizza and beer
and leaning in to kiss her on the cheek like it was the most
natural thing in the world.

They devoured the pizza, Abby only pausing
long enough in her running chatter about dolls and Princess Sophia
to inhale three slices of pizza. Autumn slid the box with the
leftovers into her newly cleaned but still empty refrigerator next
to the untouched six pack. Everyone, including an ecstatic Abby,
had soda with lunch. So when was the good doctor planning on
drinking the beer?

She grabbed the last bit of painting
paraphernalia from the hall and followed the sounds of laughter up
the stairs. The three of them were in the second bedroom. Summer
and Jude were wrestling clear plastic drop cloths over the
furniture while Abby darted in and out, giggling. She stopped in
the doorway and watched momentarily stunned. There were people in
her house, helping to do something.

It made her feel a little pathetic to think
about it, but she couldn’t remember the last time – if ever –
someone had done something just to help her. She was usually the
one fixing things for other people. Or she thought, watching her
sister, feeling bad for not doing enough.

Jude saw her in the doorway and grinned.
“What color are we painting this?” He snatched Abby up as she
dashed past and held the squealing girl out to her.

Autumn’s breath caught in her throat at the
sight of the man holding her niece. A plain blue t-shirt stretched
tight across his chest and the muscles of his arms bunched with the
effort of holding the squirming six-year-old. His faded jeans hung
low on his hips and somewhere along the way he’d taken off his
shoes. Good God, he was like a barefoot flipping Atlas, and she
knew from experience, just as rock solid steady.

“
Not me, not me,” Abby
gasped between giggles.

“
We’re not painting the
children,” Autumn said, shaking off her lust induced haze. “Just
the walls, Dr. Southerland.”

“
Right. Okay.” He set Abby,
breathless and flushed, on her feet. “Just the walls.”

Autumn glanced at her sister and saw longing
in her eyes. It wasn’t for the man. She was sure about that. It was
more for something she wanted for her daughter. Neither of them had
grown up with a real father figure. In that moment, she saw how
much Summer wanted that for her daughter.

Dwayne was still an asshole, but she
understood a little better why her sister stayed with him. The
problem was he’d never be a father for Abby anyway. Not the kind
she’d want her to have.

By the end of the afternoon, the second
bedroom was the clean, pretty yellow she’d pictured when she picked
out the paint at the Southern States. Summer helped her straighten
the patchwork quilt on the bed while Jude carried the paint trays
outside to wash them, Abby trailing him like a shadow.

“
This could be your room,”
she said when she saw the wistful expression on her sister’s face
as she smoothed the covers on the bed. “Abby could have the room at
the end of the hall.”