Any Man Of Mine

“Wel , hel o, Autumn. You know Sam?”

“Yes. We have a son together.”

“I didn’t know that.” She lowered her gaze to Conner’s blond hair.

“Not many people do.” She put her hand on her son’s head. “Say hel o to Mrs. Savage.”

“Hi.” Conner leaned to the left for a better peek into the loft. “How are you?”

Faith smiled. “I’m wel . Thank you.” She stepped to one side, and Conner shot past her.

“Dad!”

Autumn moved into the entry and shut the door behind her. “How is Sam?”

“Cranky.” Faith looked over her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Obviously, she didn’t know her and Sam’s relationship. “How are you feeling?” she asked Faith, as they moved into a living room fil ed with overstuffed leather furniture, a huge entertainment center, and a wal of windows looking out onto the city. The whole space was open and fil ed with expensive furnishings and art. Just the sort of bachelor pad she would expect of Sam.

“Good now. The first three months were a little rough. I just can’t imagine how horrible it must be for those poor women who are sick the entire nine months.”

Autumn laughed and raised her hand. “I was one of those women, and it was horrible.” She unzipped her black fleece jacket as the two moved to the open kitchen, where Sam and Conner stood at the counter. “Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“Not yet. We’ve only had the first ultrasound.”

“Oh. I remember that one. Conner looked like a chicken nugget.” She laughed. “That’s why we cal him Nugget.”

Sam looked up from the cupcake on the marble countertop. On the outside of his white T-shirt, he wore a figure-of-eight splint over his shoulders, and his left arm was in a sling held tight against his chest. The right side of the shirt was tucked into a pair of nylon running pants, while the left side hung down his hips. His hair was messed, and dark blond stubble shadowed his cheeks and chin. “I thought you cal ed him Nugget ’cause he was conceived in Las Vegas.”

She glanced at Faith out of the corners of her eyes and shook her head. The night Conner was conceived in Vegas wasn’t something she wanted even to think about, let alone discuss. She and Sam had never talked about that time, and she didn’t want to start now. Especial y in front of Faith Savage.

“I’l let you enjoy time with your son,” Faith said as she moved toward a barstool and gathered her red wool coat and Hermes handbag. “Sam, you let me know if there is anything you need.”

“Thanks for coming by. I’l see you out.” He moved toward her, but she held up a hand. “I can find my way. You rest.” She smiled at Autumn. “It was nice to see you again.”

“You, too.”

And then Faith was gone, leaving behind the scent of expensive perfume. The door closed behind her, and Autumn was alone with Sam. In his loft. On his turf.

“Can you move your arm?” Conner asked his dad.

“Yeah,” Sam reassured Conner. “I broke my clavicle.” He pointed to his col arbone. “I’m just wearing the sling to keep my arm stil .”

Conner looked up at his father and shook his head. “I saw that man hurt you.”

“This is nothing compared to the time I busted up my ankle. At least I can walk around this time.”

She put her Hermes knockoff from Target on the barstool with Conner’s Old Navy hoodie. She left her own jacket on because she wouldn’t be staying long enough to get comfy. “But should you be walking around?” Autumn much preferred being around Sam in her house. Where she felt some semblance of control. Although with Sam, control had always been an il usion.

“Yeah. But I’m about to sit down.” He pointed to the cupcake. “I’l eat the red worm. You have the green one.”

“Okay.” Conner grabbed a worm and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Later though.” He shut the top of the cupcake box as if the sight of worms coming out of a dirty-looking cupcake made him a bit queasy. “I’m not sure a worm wil agree with al the medicine I just took.” Slowly, he moved past her, and Conner trailed behind. Maybe she should leave. Come back in an hour. She didn’t belong there. In Sam’s bachelor pad.

“Autumn, could you grab a bag of peas out of the freezer?”

“Sure.” She moved across the stone floor to a stainless-steel side-by-side and opened the door. The first breath of chil ed air hit her face and the hol ow of her throat as she looked inside at frozen juice, a box of Toaster Sticks, and about ten bags of frozen peas. She grabbed the one on top and walked from the kitchen. Sam sat on a leather sofa, Conner by his side. With his arm trussed up and the straps of his splint around his shoulder, he looked almost helpless. Wel , as helpless as a six-two, two-hundred-plus wal of solid muscle could look. She handed him the bag of peas. “Should I cal Natalie for you?”

“Why?” He put the peas on his shoulder and sucked in a breath.

“Isn’t she your ‘assistant’? Maybe she should assist you.”

“Mostly she’s Conner’s babysitter. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Seeing him in pain, he not only looked helpless, but he real y didn’t fit her image of him. The image she’d had over the years of a man with multiple girlfriends and even more sexual partners. He looked like a regular guy. Wel , kind of. A regular guy with a scruffy five o’clock shadow on his movie-star jaw. “Do you need anything else?”

“No.” He shook his head and looked up at her through sleepy blue eyes. She didn’t know if he was tired or doped up. Probably both. She glanced at the watch on the inside of her wrist. Five more minutes.

“Dad, what does conceived mean?”

Both Autumn and Sam looked at Conner, then at each other.

“What?”

“You said I was conceived. What does that mean?”

“Wel ahh…” Sam stammered, and slid his gaze to his son. “It means that when two people… It means that…” He shifted the peas on his shoulder. For a guy who’d had a lot of practice at conceiving, he sure was having a hard time explaining it. Not that she wanted to give it a try. Especial y not in front of Sam. When she had “the talk,” she didn’t want an audience. “Wel , it’s when…” He winced as if he was in sudden and excruciating pain and couldn’t possibly think. “Ouch. My shoulder hurts. Ask your mother.”

“Me?”

He pointed to his col arbone. “Cut me some slack. I’m in a lot of pain here.”

Which wasn’t an excuse. “Fine.” She could probably answer the question better than Sam anyway. Her answer would be safer, at any rate. She sat on the sofa and turned to face Conner. “It means made.” There, that was easy.

“Oh.” He stared up at her though blue eyes so much like his father’s it was crazy. “I was made in Las Vegas?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He swal owed, and she could practical y see the wheels turning in his little brain. “How?”

She’d always known that someday she’d have to answer this question. She was prepared. She’d gone over it in her head several times, but never in her imaginings had Sam been sitting two feet away, a bag of peas on his shoulder, looking like he wanted to know the answer, too. “Wel , when two people make love, they sometimes make a baby.”

“Oh.” Autumn held her breath, waiting for the next “how.” The questions were only going to get harder. He turned and faced Sam. “Can I have your gummy worm?”

“Go for it.”

Conner jumped up and ran into the kitchen as fast as his little sneakers could carry him.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs as she scrubbed her face with her hands. “I feel like I just dodged a bul et.”

“I was kind of interested in how you were going to answer the questions working their way through his brain.”

She frowned and dropped her hands. “You were no help.” She leaned forward to make sure Conner was stil in the kitchen before she said, “He asked you, and you certainly know what