Page 73 of Falling for Autumn Again

I peer around the room. There’s a suitcase standing in the corner, but it must be empty. One of the dresser drawers is opened halfway with clothes inside, telling me that Ezra’s using the dresser. He’s filled it up. He’s unpacked. I’d guess the closet is full too.

I walk to the opposite side of the room and slide open the closet door. Ezra’s musky scent attempts to drown me. He is going to kill me with musk and cedarwood and mint gum.

Yep, this closet is filled as if he’s staying the entire fall season.

He’s not, right?

His part of this job is almost finished.

I flip through his clothes, dress shirts, slacks, and then—a red flannel shirt with a thick lining. My mouth quirks up in a half grin that I couldn’t stop if I tried.

There’s also jeans, shoes, and belts in here—as if the man never plans to leave.

And it all smells deliciously of Ezra. Ezra now. And Ezra then.

My heart drops a little.

Will my life be forever known as before Ezra and after Ezra? Oh yeah, and that one time in the middle when he came to visit.

All at once, it grows quieter. Quiet—in this already quiet place.

The rain must have lightened up… though water still pelts the windowpane.

Okay, nope…not the rain. My eyes dart to the other door inside this room. The closed door that leads to the room within the room. Thebathroom. Itisquieter in here. And I’m pretty surethat it’s because someone just turnedoffthe shower in that room.

It was on and I didn’t realize it, not with the pelting rain outside. It all blended together until it didn’t.

Now it’s off and he’s in there. And mostly likely without a whole lot of clothes on.

The knob turns—I see it as if it were all happening in slow motion. It turns and I watch, with the exit clear across the room.

Gasping, I launch myself through the closest opening—the closet door.

Holding my breath, I crawl into the corner and pray I turn invisible in the next thirty seconds.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ezra

I wrapa towel around my waist and slip from the bathroom. My mirror is steamed over and my hair drips down my back. I'm a prune, but after working with pesticides in the dust and wind for hours, then ending in the rain, I need the longest, hottest shower of my life.

I sit on the edge of the bed and turn on the Giants game. I need the background noise. I need the distraction. I left that necklace on Autumn’s doorstep at an ungodly hour this morning and I still haven’t heard a word from her.

Even if she came over to yell at me about the thing, I’d be happy. At least we’d be talking. I’m guessing zero communication means she isn’t coming for dinner tonight as my note asked.

I sigh and turn the volume down to level two.

I don’t care that it’s only six—I’m done with today. I’m ready for flannel pants and food. It’s been a long time since my body has done physical labor like this. The farm and the gym are not the same. They hurt in different places.

I slip into my boxers, only to remember I tossed my sweats into the closet hamper last night.

I slide the door open, poke my head inside, and have a silent,inner heart attack. Sure, no sounds escape my mouth, but I am shaken to my toes. Because Autumn Green is sitting in the corner of my closet—like one of those scary china dolls who live in your room and come to life just to murder you in your sleep.

I hold a hand to my beating heart and look her over. Her knees are bent to her chest and her head is down, her face covered like a toddler—one who believes that if she can’t see me, then I can’t see her.

With Autumn on the opposite end of this long closet and my heart still intact, I go along, pretending I don’t see her. That’s what she wants, right? So, I give it to her.

I snag my sweats from the hamper, leaving the door open an inch or two.

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