Make You Feel My Love

Chapter 1-2

“We need a plan of attack.”

Autumn looked with affectionate forbearance across the table at her best friend and thought of how many times in the past twenty-five years he’d said exactly that. “It’s shopping for birthday presents, Judd, not a war.”

“Same difference. There are people.” His sharp blue eyes narrowed on the word.

She smiled into her coffee. “You’re just grumpy because you haven’t recovered from FountainFest and all those extra shifts you’ve been pulling.”

“Hell yes. Ergo, I want to get through this whole process as quickly as possible.” He inhaled a quarter of his tall stack of pancakes in about three bites, as if to prove the point.

“We could have done this sooner if you weren’t working all the time,” she chided.

“Couldn’t be helped. Chief Curry’s been leaning on me pretty heavy lately.”

“Which is exactly what you wanted.”

Judd shrugged. “I figured the decision about the replacement Chief would’ve been made by now. Nobody thought this would drag on for over a year. Either way, this is the time we’ve got, and gag gifts must be procured. It’s tradition.”

Curmudgeon or not, Judd Hamilton was reliable as the rising sun. Since the pair of them were old enough to ride their bikes downtown, they’d established an annual tradition of finding the best possible gag gifts for his twin brothers. As she’d been an honorary Hamilton for more than a decade, she took great pleasure in punking Leo and Eli.

As they polished off their breakfast and Judd wrote out a list of stops like he was planning a tactical assault, Mama Pearl brought their check. Autumn started to reach for it, but Judd’s hand shot out and snagged it.

“What are you doing?”

He was already digging out his wallet. “Buying breakfast.”

Autumn bristled. “I can buy my own breakfast.”

“You’ve been working on half-time hours since spring. I’ve been working overtime. I’m buying breakfast.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m an ass for buying my oldest friend breakfast?” He fixed her with that cop stare that was meant to intimidate but instead heated things that had no business heating.

Autumn shifted in her seat, crossing her legs to get more comfortable and bumping his instead. A zing of awareness shot from her kneecap further north, and she repressed the urge to curse, focusing instead on keeping every nuance of her expression dialed to annoyed rather than attracted. God knew, she had plenty of practice.

Before she could come up with an answer that wasn’t some shade of “I don’t need you to take care of me”—which would just piss him off—Mama Pearl came back.

She gave a hmmph that conveyed a wealth of opinion over their stalemate before handing Autumn a thick envelope. “Omar sent this out. You won the pool on Tucker and Corinne.”

Judd tossed down his napkin. “Of course you did. How many does this make?”

“Seventeen,” Autumn said sweetly, plucking the check from his hand and pulling three fives from the envelope to pass back to Mama Pearl.

He stared at her. “Seriously?”

“What can I say? I’m lucky when it comes to betting on love.” Which was an enormous crock of s**t. She’d never been brave enough to gamble with him. Until today.

“She is the reigning champion,” Mama Pearl confirmed, before ambling off to get her change.

“What’s your secret?” Judd asked.

“Secret?”

“Why is it you’re so good at picking who’s going to end up with who and when?”

He absolutely wouldn’t like the answer to that. Reminding Judd that she was adept at reading people’s body language because she’d grown up in a household where understanding that meant the difference between surviving her father’s crazy pseudo-religious delusions and getting the belt—or worse—would ruin the mood of the day. He’d gotten her out years ago. That was the important thing. Besides, it was a lot more fun using her skills for love instead of survival.

Now her brain was occupied with broaching a far more terrifying topic. How exactly did you tell your best friend you’re in love with him?

“Maybe it’s all those romance novels. It’s made me extra sensitive to spotting the signs. And anyway, betting on love sure as hell beats editing dissertations for foreign students in terms of supplementing my income.”

His lips quirked in that rare devil-may-care grin that made her heart stutter. “You’ve actually made enough on this to supplement your income?”

It wasn’t the only supplement to her income, but it was the only one he needed to know about. She made a show of fanning the remaining cash in the envelope. “I just got handed all my shopping money. For the twins and for a splurge.”

“Then I guess we’d better go spend it.”

Per tradition, stop number one was the fountain in the middle of the town green. Constructed just after the Civil War, the fountain had earned some local notoriety over the past century and a half. It was, after all, why the town was named Wishful. Usually Autumn tossed in her coin and made a less selfish wish—there were plenty of other people who could use a little bit of magic. But if she was really going through with this, she needed all the help she could get. She’d even saved a silver dollar specially for the occasion. The coin lay against her sweaty palm. She stared down at the smooth surface of the water, trying to slow her heart and think of the right way to phrase the wish.

“You okay, Firefly?”

The childhood nickname pulled her back to the past, to the first time they’d stood here and the wish she’d made then. The casual stroke down her back kept her in the now.

“You know, when we were twelve and you brought me here that first time, I didn’t believe in wishes. Didn’t see the point. But you gave me a quarter and told me to make a wish anyway. For anything I wanted. Do you know what I wished for?”

“What?”

She lifted her gaze to his face. “I wished for a new family. And you gave me yours. I can never repay you for that.”

“We’re not keeping a balance sheet, Autumn. It’s not something you owe us for.”

No. That had been a gift without price. And if she did this. If she changed things, his friendship wasn’t the only thing she risked.

Be brave. Be like the strong heroines you write about.

Eyes on his, she fisted the silver dollar and made her wish. I wish for the courage and strength of heart to do what needs to be done, say what needs to be said.

She didn’t look as she tossed the coin. Didn’t even glance over at the solid thunk in the water. She could only watch him. For twenty-five years, he’d been her strength, her shield, her confidant. And she was about to see if he’d be more.

“Judd, there’s something I need to—”

“Autumn!”

The sound of her name had the words clogging like a logjam in her throat as she turned to see who had such craptastic timing.

“Mark?”

A history professor at Wachoxee County Community College, Mark Caulfield had been stopping in at the library once or twice a week for a couple of years. He was charming, erudite, and a little shy. Lanky, with a penchant for tweed—a less attractive Jude Law type. Livia had been making bets for months about when Mark would get up the nerve to ask Autumn out. He always seemed to stop just short of crossing the line from flirtation to action. Which was perfectly fine with Autumn. She enjoyed their flirtation, enjoyed the lack of pressure to actually commit to anything else. And here he was with flowers in his hand when she was about to confess her love to Judd.

Crap on a cracker.

“Good morning, lovely lady.” With a sheepish smile, he held a bouquet of bright yellow tulips out.

Autumn reached to take the flowers automatically, though a part of her instinctively recoiled. She couldn’t stop the flinch as her hand curled around the stems. “What’s this?”

“I saw these and they made me think of you. A little spot of sunshine. I went by the library to deliver them. Livia told me you were out shopping, so I took a chance that I could catch you.”

Autumn made a mental note to murder her friend. She forced a smile and focused on the gesture rather than the flowers themselves. There was no possible way Mark could’ve known she loathed yellow tulips. They’d been her mother’s favorite flower. “They’re lovely.”

She waited, watching splotches of color rise to Mark’s cheeks as he shifted from foot to foot. Please don’t let today be the day he finally asks.

Mark finally seemed to register Judd’s presence, which said a lot about the man’s focus on her, as Judd had been looming behind her like a guard dog since the moment Mark had shown up.

“Hi. Mark Caulfield.” He offered his hand.

Judd stepped forward to take it. “Judd Hamilton.”

“And you’re—”

“The best friend,” Judd supplied. His gaze swept Mark from head to toe and clearly found him lacking. Not that anyone who wasn’t well-versed in the microexpressions of Judd would notice.

“Ah,” Mark said.

The silence spun out. One beat, then two.

Ordinarily, Autumn would’ve jumped into the breach, tried to put Mark more at ease with the scripted niceties used by all women in the South. But she wanted—needed—him to go away. So she said nothing, employing the same tactics she knew Judd used in interrogation, hoping Mark would be so acutely uncomfortable, he’d lose his nerve.

“Well, I—you’re in the middle of something. I just wanted to give you the flowers. I’ll let you get back to your shopping now.”

“Thanks.”

“I guess I’ll see you when those interlibrary loans come in.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” she promised.

Mark gave a little wave and shrugged his messenger bag higher on his shoulder, heading back across the green.

Autumn turned back toward Judd. She felt the weight of his gaze—those eyes that always saw too much and not enough.

“Do you want me to take them?” He knew. Of course, he knew what these would mean to her. It was just one of the many reasons she loved him.

“No. They’re just…flowers. I can deal. Just…just tell me when he’s gone so I can find somewhere to dispose of them.”

Mark’s interruption had seriously thrown Autumn off her game. Because the moment to speak had passed, she didn’t resist when Judd took her arm. “C’mon. Let’s walk.”

“Let’s swing by Brides and Belles. I’ll give them to Babette. Someone might as well enjoy them.”

“Sure. I’ve got something to pick up in that area anyway.”

Dimly, Autumn wondered where, but was too rattled to ask. She’d find out soon enough.

She felt better once the flowers were out of her hands. Steadier. She joined Judd back out on the sidewalk. “Okay, List Master, where is our first stop? You said you had something to pick up over here.”

“This way.” He headed down the block. As she fell into step beside him, he said, “Hey what was it you were going to say earlier? Before we were interrupted. You seemed pretty serious.”

“I was. I…” Autumn trailed off, staring blankly at the display window he’d stopped in front of. “What are we doing here?”

“Oh, I’ve just got to run in and pick up something for Mary Alice.”

“Here?” They were standing outside Sanderson’s Jewelers.

“Yeah, I’ve got something on order. Want to come in and see?”

Autumn’s mind ground to a screeching halt, as everything she’d been about to say simply blanked. Judd Hamilton did not buy jewelry. At no point in their twenty-five years of friendship had he ever given something sparkly to one of his girlfriends. He’d never even gotten any cheesetastic jewelry for his mom on Mother’s Day. And he had something on order for Mary Alice.

There was only one thing it could possibly be.

Something burst inside her, a white hot nova of shock sweeping through her body, reverberating through her chest. For long seconds, she waited for the pain to take her to her knees. But there was no physical pain. She wasn’t dying this time, even though she was losing him now as surely as she’d nearly lost him years ago to a bullet meant for her. And for a moment she regretted that the surgeons had repaired her heart. Because that meant she had to live through this, watching him build a life with someone else, knowing she’d never even been in the running.

She drew on every shred of control she had to smile at him. Because she loved him and she wanted him to be happy.

“No. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’m going to have to bail on our tradition. I’m supposed to meet Mitzi to help finish up a grant for the library. With all the budget cuts, I really can’t afford to tell her no, even though it’s technically my day off. There’s a deadline.” The lie rolled off her tongue with surprising ease.

His expression clouded. “Well s**t. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“She just emailed me this morning, and I thought we could at least do breakfast. But I need to get on. You go ahead and finish your shopping. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Worry was written all over his face as he studied her.

Please. Please let me go right now.

“Yeah, okay.”

Because she felt the weight of his gaze on her, she didn’t run, though every instinct urged her to flee. She kept her strides even and unhurried, though she was starting to shake. She kept her head held high, though she wanted to scream. She’d survived more than her fair share over the years. She’d find a way to survive this.

But as she passed the cursed fountain, she wondered how she’d survive it without him.