Page 41 of Falling for Autumn Again

She’s glaring at me. My taunt is over, but I’m still waiting for her response. “I’m not afraid of you, Ezra Bennett.”

“I’d guess not. The Autumn I know isn’t afraid of anything. Except maybe…snakes.”

She glowers. Yep—still afraid of snakes. Mice and insects, she can handle all day long; they’re like second nature on a Christmas tree farm. But snakes—that girl will wail high-pitched and jump on your back faster than you can blink.

I might be having way too much fun with angsty Autumn.

“I’ll meet you inside,” I say. There’s no reason for me to take the designs—aka my laptop—over to the office. Okay, yep, it’sjust a laptop. It wouldn’t be difficult, but I’m still stirring all the minty mentos into my Autumn Diet Coke, waiting for her truth to pop.

I head into the little white house I’m calling home while Autumn beelines for her own place.

“I’ll be over in a minute.”

A minute gives me time to clean up a little. I’ve settled in. I haven’t had my own place for weeks—living in Phil’s living room doesn’t exactly allow for spreading out—and I’m taking advantage of the space I have here.

I’ve just shoved my suitcase into the closet when Autumn knocks. I peer about the place—the bed is unmade, but at least my socks are off the ground and my food wrappers are in the garbage. Besides, the girl won’t be coming back to my bedroom. The living room and kitchen are in decent shape. I’m not a slob—I’ve just been working overtime. First, creating the designs for the bistro, and second, farming for Dessie and Don.

I run my hands through my tousled hair and step over to the door. She’s changed into a clean T-shirt and jeans, and her wavy hair trails over her shoulders, the sun bringing out gold in her chestnut-brown hair.

I feel like a kid again. The kid who fell so hard and so fast for Autumn Green. She made me feel unbroken and loved. And when I see her, I feel that again—in its most raw form.

That is until she lifts her head to glower at me. Why is she so upset all the time? Oh right, because I'm here. And because I'm goading her on.

Does this big secret have something to do with me? As in—I did something wrong? Because if so, I’m not trying to be an overgrown lug here—I just don’t know what it could be.

I smile. I’m not fighting fire with fire. I’m fighting fire with rainbows. And if that bothers Autumn, that’s her choice.

“Can I get you a drink?”

She steps through the door. “Do you have anything?”

“Aw—bottled water in the fridge.”

One of her brows sits higher than the other. “The bottled water I filled the fridge with before you got here?”

“Yep.”

She breathes out, heavy and weary. She looks so tired at this moment. "I'm fine. Can we just get to it?"

“Sure.” I open up my laptop sitting on the coffee table. There’s only one couch in this small room, so she’s going to have to sit by me if she wants to see the designs. And I’m not moving.

I don’t say anything and I don’t invite her over. She can make her own choices—she always could.

“I’ve got two to show you. If there’s something you like in one and something else in the other, most likely we can do some combining or swapping.”

Autumn paces in front of my little table, hands on hips. I peer up from my laptop. She’s gnawing on her bottom lip as if it’s a piece of jerky and she hasn’t eaten in days.

“Did you want to see them?”

She looks at me like a skittish, wild animal. “Yeah. I want to see them.”

I spent a couple weeks researching once the Linus's hired me. I knew I wanted to give them something special and unique. They were always so good to me. Don even let me sleep out in the loft a few nights when I didn't want to go home. My pride wouldn't let me ask them for a place to stay in the house. They would have let me. But I didn't want to ask and Don never made me. He knew I was out there and just never said anything. Although, I found a pillow and extra blankets after multiple nights.

She paces once more before sitting on the loveseat next to me. Her leg brushes mine and I do nothing to give her more space. I don’t want to. We’ve had plenty of space in the last decade.

I give her an entire minute to look before I speak. “This one has a slightly bigger kitchen space, but this one,” I say swipingover to the second, “has a larger dining room. You could fit six to eight more guests.”

She’s bent, peering at the design. “I like the larger kitchen, the island. Would that be possible with the other design?”

---