Page 51 of Falling for Autumn Again

“Those are hers,” Ezra says.

“They were wet. And cold. And—shed.” My brows pinch. I hold out a hand for my jeans, but they’re still damp. Ooo, see?Proof! The jeans go limp in my hand. What am I going to do, change in here with Don, Dessie, and Ezra all watching?

No thank you. Wet jeans plus an audience, I don’t think so. Besides, my blanket and I are one—remember?

“I’m not your father or your priest. You don’t have to lie to me, Autumn Pie.” Don gives me a wink—as if he’s on my side.

He’s not.

Because I am not lying.

That’s what happened.

I scoff and squeak. “Shed—” Okay, I have got to stop saying that word. I swallow down my pride and nudge Ezra with my foot. “Tell them!”

He slowly gets to his feet. “Meh. She left a few things out.”

“I thought so,” Dessie says.

I clamp my mouth closed and hug my blanket cape around my neck, holding my pants beneath one arm. I charge past Don and Dessie, out into the sunshine. “Nothing happened,” I growl on my way.

“Not exactly nothing,” Ezra says. Man, that guy is annoying.

I throw a glare back his way. “Will you be quiet? You’re so, so…stupid!”

“Autumn, that’s not nice,” Dessie tells me as if I were a child.

But remember? Don isn’t my priest or my father. And neither is Dessie.

“It’s not supposed to be nice! It’s simply true.” I make it outside only to remember that I walked here. Which is followed up with a chilly breeze fluffing my blanket and turning my legsinto popsicles—yet another reminder: I don’t have pants on, or much of a shirt.

I cling to my blanket a little tighter and try to remember what I’ve done with my shoes. Or if they’re worth going back in that shed for.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ezra

I snagAutumn’s work boots from the corner and head outside, shoeless myself.

“Ezra!” Dessie calls. “Where are you going?”

“She’s going to walk home in a blanket. She should at least have shoes.”

“Goodnight nurse. You two! Go on.” She throws one thumb over her shoulder. “There’s keys in the four-wheelers. Take mine.”

Don nods. “You aren’t going to win the girl back by letting her walk home.”

“Win her—” I whip my head around to him. But he and Dessie both smile knowingly as if they may have installed cameras in this shed sometime in the last ten years and they watched our entire encounter last night.

Do I care if they did? They aren’t wrong.

For the first time in ten years, I don’t feel unsure or hesitant about what I want or what I’m doing. Yes, I’ve been confused, hurt, and angry.

But I have a better handle on the situation now. I feel theclosure Dr. Appleby said I would. And for the first time in a long time, I know what I want.

I want Autumn. I always have. I always will. She’s still the stubborn, thoughtful, passionate girl I loved all those years ago. Last night proved that.

And while I wish she’d never sent me away all those years ago, I finally understand why she did. That knowledge changes everything.

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