Page 39 of Falling for Autumn Again

“One more, Don. I don’t think Autumn was smiling.”

My heart thumps in rapid, uneven beats. I need this to end. Now.

Dessie waves a hand from Ezra to me, sweeping across. And with that wave, Ezra Bennett drapes an arm over my shoulders.

“There we go,” Don says. “Much better.”

Ezra locks his grip around me. His arm is heavy and warm, musky and stirring, and way too familiar. Only Ezra and I aren’tfamiliaranymore.

My self-preservation defense mechanism kicks in and I shove him.Hard. With both hands on Ezra’s chest, I thrust him from my side, from my touch, from my breathing space. Although… musk and cedarwood linger even without him standing right next to me, even with his body five feet from mine.

“Autumn!” Dessie groans. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Ezra brushes his palms along his thighs—what he’s brushing off, I don’t know. I didn’t push him that hard. He didn’t fall over. He never hit the ground. He’s just being a baby.

A big, stupid, handsome, lovable baby.

“Maybe that was a little too close,” Don says with a chuckle. He’s holding another photo, shaking it in his hand, waiting for it to develop.

I swallow, my mouth dry. “Just a little.”

“Are you okay, honey?” Dessie peers at Ezra still acting as if he’s been wounded.

He presses a hand to his stomach, milking the attention. “Fine,” he says. “Like you said, she’s probably hangry.”

“I am not hangry!” I bark. “I just don’t need you draping yourself all over me.” No, I do not. My heart is already threatening to leave the protection of my chest.

“It was just his arm, just one picture,” Dessie says, defending him. The man she hasn’t seen in ten long years. Why isn’t she defending me?

I take a breath and picture Meg calling me a grumpy Gus. I’m not sure why it helps to settle my nerves a little. Maybe these nerves battling inside of me have nothing to do with Ezra’s nearness; maybe Dessie’s right and I’m just hungry.

Or… maybe Ezra touching me does things to my insides. Things I do not need it doing.

"Okay—that's enough," Dessie says as if we are fighting children and she's our all-angelic referee. "Let's eat so you two can get going."

“Going?” I look from Dessie to Don, avoiding Ezra’s gaze altogether. His opinion on going doesn’t count. “You just got here.”

“Yes, dear, but Don and I are here to work on the saplings so that you and Ezra can go back to your place and go over restaurant designs.”

“Me and—” I take one peek at that stubbled chin and thosedark brows. I swallow. Why is everyone out to get me? “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because this is our business, but it’s your dream. You dreamed this up, and you’re running it. I need my GM to approve the design.” She doesn’t say it like a mom talking to a child, but a woman trusting her business partner.

Iwouldlike to see the design before he finalizes anything and the blueprints are made up. I press my lips together, tell my beating heart to shut up, and pull out my truck keys. "Okay." I sigh. "I can do that."

“I’ll need your truck,” Dessie says, stealing the keys out of my hand.

My brows narrow. “Why?”

My gray-haired friend lowers her penciled brows. “Well.” She nods. “It’s got the bare root boxes, of course. The saplings.”

“There’s only a few left.”

“Yes, and I want them in the protection of the truck until it’s time to plant.” She crosses her arms with the lie. Because I’m certain that’s what it is. Dessie is meddling. She loves to meddle. Why didn’t I see it before?

“Fine. I’ll take your machine—”

“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Don needs it. His knee is giving him fits and he can’t be walking clear across to the other side of these long rows.” Her hands bounce to her hips. “That settles it. You’ll ride back with Ezra and we’ll get things taken care of here.”

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