Chapter 13 Autumn
AUTUMN
Lulu’s latest assault on breathable air had nearly killed me in my sleep, so when she whined at the door, I was on my feet, barely remembering my busted calf.
“Go,” I whispered, cracking the door open. “But be quick. And for the love of—don’t get caught.”
I paused just inside the doorway, my eyes drifting to Dom’s room.
I had no idea how long he’d stayed. Probably not long. But the fact that he had at all, that he hadn’t just walked away the moment I closed my eyes, made me wonder.
Maybe he wanted us to stick around a little longer.
Lulu, meanwhile, had decided this was a five-star sniffing experience.
I leaned on my crutch, letting my gaze slide out to the street and the dark behind it. Buffaloberry Hill was so much quieter than the places I’d lived. There was no city buzz and no car alarms, just trees and the occasional truck rumbling somewhere far off.
Peaceful.
Right up until the porch light snapped on.
“What in the good name of Teddy Roosevelt is that?” A voice cut through the night.
Oh no.
I turned, my heart dropping. The motel owner stood a few feet away in a flannel robe, a pissed-off glare on her face. Lulu, utterly shameless and clearly intrigued by her new captor, sat at her feet with her tail wagging like the woman was handing out bacon treats.
“Uh.” I scrambled for a halfway believable lie. “She’s a service dog?”
“For what?”
“Support?” I nodded toward my crutch.
Right then, Lulu lunged at a few moths near the porch light, ignoring my call.
Okay, yeah. That wasn’t going to work.
“Out,” she said, pointing toward the road. “I don’t allow dogs. And I definitely don’t allow liars.”
Crap. Crap, crap, crap.
Where the hell was I even supposed to go?
And then, from nowhere, a whiskey-warm “Ma’am” landed between us.
Dominic Someone, Esquire.
Standing slightly to the side, respectful and non-imposing yet impossible to ignore, he had the composure of a man who’d just rolled out of bed and straight into a negotiation.
One hand rested lightly on his hip while the other smoothed down his plush robe.
Meanwhile, I was standing there like I’d been scraped off the pavement.
“Ms. O’Donnell,” he greeted smoothly, his charm dialed up just enough to be effective but not over the top. “Dominic Powell.”
Oh, so it was Powell.
Dominic Powell, Esquire. That had a nice ring to it.
“I remember who you are,” Ms. O’Donnell said flatly.
“I sincerely apologize for waking you at this hour,” Dom said, all reason and grace. “I completely understand your policy, and I respect it. But given the circumstances, I’d love to find a solution that works for both of us.”
The motel owner folded her arms. “That so?”
Dom nodded. “I’d be happy to pay a temporary pet deposit. A reasonable fee to cover any inconvenience.” His tone was light but assured. “And, of course, I’ll also cover an additional cleaning fee in advance, just to ensure there’s no extra burden on your staff.”
Where the hell was this coming from?
But Ms. O’Donnell’s expression shifted.
It was not softened, not quite. But Dom had planted the seed.
He pressed on. “Lulu won’t be here long,” he assured, glancing at me. “I’ll personally make sure she’s no trouble. No mess. No issues.”
“And if I say no?” she asked, her chin tilting up.
Dom’s smile didn’t falter. “Then we’ll respect that. But considering how well-behaved she is, and how my friend here has had a long week, I think this is a fair compromise.”
Silence stretched.
Then finally, Ms. O’Donnell exhaled, her stern expression melting under his gaze. Oh hell. So that’s what I looked like when he turned me to mush with those eyes. The man had range, and it didn’t matter if you were twenty-one or sixty.
“Fine,” she relented. Then her eyes snapped to me, regaining their former edge. “But you—” she jabbed a finger in my direction, “better make sure that dog doesn’t cause trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said quickly, wide-eyed.
Just like that, she turned on her heel and strode back inside.
Dom cast me a look.
I sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I got it. Everyone likes Dominic Powell.”
He smirked. “I have my moments.”
I should’ve been annoyed. Instead, I wanted to outdo Ms. O’Donnell in making sure Dom knew I liked him. More than liked. My heart and my head had been playing musical chairs all night, and right now, my heart had claimed the throne.
A beat passed.
I stepped closer, and the lapel of his robe brushed against the I Buffaloberry Hill T-shirt I’d chosen as my pajamas.
“Think you can get back to sleep?” he asked.
“I’ll try,” I rasped. But I didn’t move.
And neither did he.
His fingers brushed mine. It was just the faintest touch, but it sent a ripple through me, the warmth threading into the cool night air.
I kept talking. Something about Lulu, the motel owner, and how absurd the night had been. But my words lost their pace, their edge.
Dom was looking at me. And not just my face. But my mouth.
Heat climbed up my spine.
One inch. That was all it would take. One inch, and I’d know how this man, this infuriating, impossible, and utterly irresistible man, kissed.
I leaned closer, enough to tip the scales if he wanted to meet me there.
But the space between us didn’t close.
The moment stretched, pulled tight. We were one breath away from snapping, one heartbeat from unraveling.
But he pulled back.
Not sharply. Not in rejection. Just…with restraint.
And before I could make sense of it, he stepped away.
The space he left behind felt colder than the night air, and the loss hit harder than it should have.
I forced a smile, because what else was I supposed to do? Pretend like I wasn’t still reeling from the way he’d looked at me?
“Guess I should thank you. Again,” I said lightly, escaping his eyes before I did something stupid. “Not just for saving my ass, but for keeping me off the streets tonight.”
He nodded once. “Get some sleep, Autumn.”
And just like that, he turned around.
I exhaled, forcing my feet to move, step by step, back to my room. By the time I reached the door, my brain had finally caught up with my heart.
Dominic Powell was going to drive me insane.
But what was I expecting? That a man like him would suddenly fall for some green, wide-eyed girl with more wishful thinking than sense? That I was anything close to what he wanted?
Or needed?
He might be alone now, but that didn’t mean he always was, or that someone wasn’t waiting for him back in L.A. Maybe someone he was running from.
Distance didn’t erase history.
And even if there wasn’t a past waiting to catch up to him, what were the odds he wouldn’t find something or someone new?
No doubt Buffaloberry Hill was full of charming country girls and women who knew how to make a man stay. The kind of woman he’d actually want.
Not some reckless, half-healed stray who didn’t even know where she was going next.
Whatever.
I tapped the bed, and Lulu hopped up without hesitation.
“At least you love me,” I muttered, pressing my face into her fur.
She licked my cheek, and I gently stretched her ears up with both hands. They stood tall and ridiculous, and I laughed before she could shake them loose.
“You’re always all ears when I need you. And maybe I can say you were my birthday present too.”
She wedged herself against my side.
“I won’t leave you. Promise. You’re coming with me.”
In response, she lifted one paw and placed it squarely on top of my hand, solemn as anything.
I smiled, a laugh tangled in a sigh. “Yeah, paw-promise.”