Page 84 of Autumn on My Mind

Dom’s laughter bids me goodbye.

It’s hard to describe how bizarre it is, attending a potluck dinner with my mother, Daryl, and his family.

The entire basement of our little white church smells incredible. The scent of the potluck is strong, but the good kind of strong—soups and casseroles and bread and desserts. I inhale deeply when I arrive, a smile stretching across my face.

I wish I could say I’ve moved on from this morning’s pants incident, but that would be a lie. So when I step into the church’s activity room, my eyes search for Dom first. A sigh of relief escapes me when he’s nowhere to be found, even though I know he’ll be here shortly. I head over to the table in the corner that’s occupied by his sisters, who are chatting together. They both look apprehensive, and I don’t blame them. None of us are thrilled our parents are dating.

Rosie and Emma both smile when I join them at the otherwise empty table.

“Hi!” Rosie says.

“Hey,” I say, looking around again to see if anyone else is here, but Daryl and Alvina haven’t come yet, either. “How are you guys?”

“Good,” they say in unison, and I smile.

“Emma, you work over at the library, right?” I say. I don’t know Emma as well as Rosie, but I’ve seen her around my whole life, and I’ve always liked her. Now her eyes brighten behind her cute glasses.

“I do!” she says. “I’m a children’s librarian.”

“I heard you once corralled the family into dressing up as Dr. Seuss characters for Halloween,” I say, my lips twitching as I remember what Dom told me. “Are there pictures of that?”

She laughs. “I did do that one year, and it was so cute. There are billions of pictures—I made sure of it.” She pauses, glancing at Rosie. “Did you tell her that?”

“Dom told me,” I say. “We’ve been in touch”—what a horribly weird way to say we used to date—“about our parents. Dating, I mean.” An awkward silence falls between us, and it’s not at all helped by the sudden arrival of the aforementioned dating parents.

Alvina does not enter rooms quietly. Even though there’s already a pleasant buzz of conversation going on around the activity room, her voice can be heard over the masses as she calls to me: “Reese, darling, you made it.”

I turn and give her a weak wave, watching as her eyes scan what she can see of my outfit; I doubt Dominic’s old shirt counts as something “fit for a potluck” in her mind. Her lips purse in disapproval only briefly, though, because Daryl is behind her, and she turns to speak to him instead.

“Here they are,” I say in a voice full of false cheer. Emma and Rosie both nod with similar sentiments written all over their faces. Rosie’s expression brightens a second later as she spots someone, though, and she waves toward the entrance.

“Dom!”

Because I possess self-control and no small amount of lingering embarrassment, I do not turn in my seat to look at Dominic. I wait until our table is joined by him, Alvina, and Daryl.

“Oh,” Rosie says, looking surprised as Dominic settles into his seat next to her. He’s dressed the same as he was this morning—short sleeves despite the cool weather, muscles on prime display, the feather necklace tucked beneath his shirt. “You smell good.” She leans closer and sniffs. “What is that? Do you have new cologne?”

His gaze locks with mine, his lips twitching when he sees I’m still wearing his shirt. “Nutmeg,” he says. His voice is easy, but his eyes aren’t; they’re searing as they bore into me. “New soap.” Then, so casually I could kick him, he adds, “Are you feeling okay, Reese? You look flushed.”

“Just fine,” I gurgle around my own spit. It’s mostly to reassure Daryl, who looks at me with concern. Alvina doesn’t seem bothered about my health either way. Then I pull out my phone and send one furious message.

Me

Did you use my bodywash???

I watch Dominic check his texts. A faint smirk flits over his lips, and a second later, my phone buzzes in my lap.

Dominic

If it’s in my shower, it belongs to me, Berkeley.

Remember that the next time you’re here.

I momentarily forget how to breathe.

“Dominic is actually right, Reese,” Rosie says from across the table, sounding worried.

My head snaps up, my brows jumping. “What?” I say faintly.