Page 71 of Falling for Autumn Again

I roll over, pressing my face into my pillow, and groan—because bless Meg Miller's beautiful, label-making heart, I'm as confused as ever.

Chapter Thirty-One

Autumn

I’ve officially gonetwenty-four hours successfully avoiding Ezra.

I warm a cup of cider on the stove and peer out at the morning sky. It’s so early without the sun to brighten it up, but it’s still a pretty navy blue that goes on for miles.

We are filling up the shop with all of Dessie’s treasures today. And in one week, on October first, we’ll open for business.

I have emailed Ezra about details and builders. He sent me all the info and I sent my choices back to him over electronic mail. See—it's possible. He can be my architect, we can work on this project and the farm together, we can even live right next door to one another, all while never seeing each other.

Once the builders come, he should be set to leave. Two thousand miles away. And maybe once he’s gone, the thought of him will hurt less.

I open up my screen door, the air crisp, a fall breeze rustling the pine needles that litter the ground. I tug my denim jacket tighter around myself and step outside. I peer down as my foot collides with—something. I didn’t leave anything on my porch.

There’s a little wrapped box with a pink bow atop it. Thatbow is possibly bigger than the entire box. I peer over to the little white house where Ezra sleeps and pick up the box.

Checking my watch—5:24 a.m.—I step back inside and open up the surprise gift. I lift the lid to find a faux gold locket and chain inside. There’s an H carved into the front of the necklace—which makes no sense for Autumn Green. But it’s a sweet charm. Maybe it ended up on the wrong porch?

My fingers grapple at the tiny latch on the side of the locket opening it up to see the one and onlyHarry Stylessmiling back at me. “‘Watermelon Sugar’,” I say to no one but myself.

I smile and, for some reason, clasp the thing around my neck. It makes me feel a little lighter. A little stronger. Like Harry is on my side and this day isn’t going to suck. My heart isn’t going to stop beating and I won’t die of heartbreak—not today. Not with Harry helping me out.

Still, I tuck it beneath my shirt, hiding the golden H from the world.

Dessie, maybe? She might know about my secret obsession with Harry. I’m not sure.

Meg? Did she have it specially delivered? The only other person who knows of my Harry love is living right next door, and in this moment, I'd like to refer to him ashe-who-must-not-be-namedonce more.

Besides, it wasn’t there when I went to bed and Ezra is clearly still sleeping now.

It’s from Dessie. Or Meg—delivered by Dessie.

The end.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

I spend the morning with Dessie setting up stands, shelves, and hooks for her Christmas shop. We don’t set out any of her actual creations, just all the things they’ll sit or hang on. I don’t ask her about the package, I merely give her a big hug and tell her how much I love her.

By late afternoon, the old barn looks like a shop ready to be filled.

“What’s Don up to?” I ask. We haven’t seen her husband, the new workers, or Ezra all day. Okay—it’s possible I’m mostly curious about Ezra.

“He’s got everyone on pest control duty. Though, I think Ezra’s been going over plans with the builders.”

My heart skips. “He has?”

“Haven’t you talked to him? He said the contractor you chose had a conflict and he was going to have to pull some strings to get him.”

I swallow. “Oh.”

“I would have thought you two would be all cozied up in one house by now.”

“By now? It’s been two weeks. And Ezra and I don’tcozyanymore.”

She studies the iPad we use as a register. “You looked pretty cozy in the shed last week.”

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