Page 99 of Falling for Autumn Again

I’m not here for small talk or to make connections or to get him thinking we will ever be anything more than strangers on the street. I owe him nothing. And I want nothing in return.

“I’m here for closure. You never treated me right. And yet, somehow I grew to be decent and good.”

“Never treated you right?” he scoffs. “You had a roof over your head. You had food in your belly.”

“I had food when I bought it. We had a roof because you inherited this house. But mostly we hadthe drink.It looks as if that’s all you have now.” I peer around at this place that hasn’t changed—only I’m not here to clean up after him or to repair what might have been had Mav cared enough.

I’m here for goodbye.

I look him in the eye and make my peace. “I may be back in town, but I won’t be seeing you again. You don’t get to affect my life anymore. I just came to saygoodbye. And to wish you well.” Surprisingly, I mean those words. “So long, Mav.”

Chapter Fifty

Autumn

The sweet scentof my newly crafted recipe wafts through the house. It’s one of those rare occasions when my place smells like food—French food—rather than dirt, sweat, and pine needles. Sweet, savory, mouthwatering crepes fill my house with their scent.

“Have I ever seen you cook before?” Meg says, staring at me through the few inches of a phone screen.

“Sure. I mean, probably. Small things. Easy things. I haven’t had time for more.” I love to cook—surely Meg has seen me cook—but then, I’ve been a tree farmer for years and put cooking on the back burner. In fact, I’m a little terrified I’ve lost all my skills.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in action like this. You look different. You’re sort of glowing. Or wait, is that an Ezra glow? Maybe he’s the one who makes you glow. Or maybe it’s a combination.”

“Shush,” I tell her, and yet, I am smiling. This is confusing. I haven’t exactly been unhappy the last few years. But I haven’t necessarily been happy either.

Dad was sick. Then we lost him. And even before all that, I lost Ezra. I rarely have time for cooking, my favorite hobby. Whyin the world Dessie and Don are trusting me with their bistro is a mystery.

“Ezra’s on his way over?”

I swallow. I might be forever confused when it comes to Ezra. Don’t get me wrong. He is agreatidea. The best, actually. I love him. But I’ve spent the last ten years without him, telling myself I didn’t love him anymore and that I’d never ever get him back. I still don’t know how to feel about him living near Mav. But it seems my insecurities won’t be changing his mind either.

I nibble on my bottom lip and after staying silent far too long, I answer Meg’s question. “Well, my best friend moved away, so who else is going to try out my recipes? I can’t open a bistro without testing out my recipes, can I?”

She smothers a laugh. “All very logical, Autumn. You’re starting to sound like me.”

I snicker. Meg is the logical one—well, she was, until she fell in love with a boy from Hawaii and moved away from me.

“So, he’s just coming over to try your food?”

I flick my gaze from my mixture up to my four-inch friend. “Among… other things.”

“Other thingssound fun, Autumn Pie.” She draws out Dessie’s nickname for me in a sweet Southern accent. “You deserve all the happiness, girl.”

There’s a light tap on my screen door and I pull in a sharp breath. “He’s here,” I whisper. “Gotta go! Gotta go!”

Meg’s giving me two thumbs up when I click end on our call.

I rush for the door and slow down with ten steps to go. My body is pretty sure I have ten years of loving Ezra to make up for. My mind wants to take it slow.

That will be an interesting battle.

Ezra leans against the door frame, peering in at me through the mesh of the screen. He’s got a single rose in his hand and it sets my heart fluttering.

I focus on what Don told me. He’d had family issues and yethe’d stayed for Dessie, for the new life they made. Ezra is certain we can do that too—even with Mav in town, even with the possibility of another Mav encounter. And I’m starting to become a believer. My heart is too far gone not to believe.

I look him over from his short brown hair to the dark bristles on his chin. From his broad shoulders to his strong arms.

I push open the screen and he slips through the door. My heart patters in my chest like a thunderstorm. I reach for his hand and with my entire body tremoring, I pull him into the working kitchen.

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