Page 100 of Falling for Autumn Again

“Where are we—” he starts, but I keep him moving. I need to get this out now—or I may never.

I turn to face him and back him into a kitchen chair. He sits and I stand in front of him. I step between his legs and set both my hands on his shoulders.

A shaky breath falls from my chest.

“Hey, are you—”

“Shut up.” I cram my eyes closed. “Notshut upshut up. Just let me get this out.”

He nods, peering at me intently, a hand on each of my hips. I feel like I foresaw this version of Ezra. Older, but not old. Wise, but still learning. Sexy, but growing sexier by the second—with every brush stroke to my mother’s house, with every confession he offers me, with every kiss we share.

I blow out a breath and say, “I was wrong.”

His brows knit, but to his credit, he stays quiet.

“When I sent you away, I was trying to do the right thing. I was trying to save you. But I was wrong. And I know that now. Because since you’ve been back, I’ve come to realize that you’ve always belonged with me and me with you.” I squeeze his shoulders. An escaping tear leaks from my eye and skitters down my cheek, but I can’t release him to swat it away. “No other person can stop that. No amount of time apart would matter. We could be separated for a hundred years and we’d still belong together.” Iblow out a trembling breath. “I love you, Ezra. I always have and I always will.”

My heart patters, terrified. I’m not sure why. The man already confessed to loving me. But then, I had to convince myself it was right. That my love and longing for Ezra wasn’t completely selfish.

Ezra tugs on my hips, pulling me flush to him, threading his arms around my middle and silently beckoning my lips to his.

“It’s about time,” he says, lifting his chin to me, waiting for me to close the gap. “Should we take this to the loft?”

I smirk. “Shut up,” I say, inching closer.

“Gladly,” he says, pulling me in the rest of the way.

I breathe him in, memorizing every curve of his lips and jaw. I kiss him with a silent promise to kiss him forevermore, the rest of my life. Ezra makes that promise right back.

Ezra’s kiss is old and new—all at once. The same and different. But most of all, it is perfection in its most complete and beautiful form.

Tears of joy escape my eyes and fall down my cheeks—because apparently every emotion I have now plans to show itself through my eyes. The moisture mixes with our kiss and I break away from him, wiping my tears from his cheeks.

Ezra stands, eyes locked with mine, and scoops me up. I feel like a fragile doll in his arms—treasured and protected. He carries me into the living room and for a second I wonder if he really is taking me to the loft. But then he sets me on the couch, keeping me close, finding a space for both of us there.

I’m pretty sure we could learn to live linked together for the rest of our lives.

That is—until the kitchen’s smoke alarm starts to blare.

Chapter Fifty-One

Ezra

I’m temptedto ignore the siren going off in Autumn’s kitchen. Really terrible timing, smoke alarm... But then, I suppose I’d rather move than have Autumn’s house burn down.

I sigh but lift myself from Autumn's couch, only to realize there is smoke blazing in her kitchen. Her house might actually be burning down.

“I’ll get the windows,” she says, realizing that this isn’t a drill at the same time I do. While Autumn opens every window in her house, I hurry to the kitchen to find a burning crepe in one of her new and very expensive pans. At least I think that black crusted thing was once a crepe. That’s what she said she’d be preparing.

Searching for a hot pad, I slide my hand into the floral contraption and lift the hot pan and crusted crepe into the sink. Snatching up a rag, I waft the smoke from the kitchen toward the open window.

“Holy smokes,” says a woman beside me—a woman who isn’t Autumn.

“Dessie?”

“Can’t you see me, hon?” She waves in front of her face, attempting to flap away the smoke around us. “Right here.”

“I see you.Now.” I clear my throat against the smoke. “Can you get the door?”

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