Page 23 of Mountain Beast

The next hour passes with easy conversation as we wind our way through the fair, stopping to check out a few local exhibits like the tent for Miss Patty’s Apple Orchard and a log-carving demonstration sponsored by Olson-Keller Lumber & Construction.

Everything is going surprisingly well until a familiar head of bleached blonde hair with a signature couture purse appears ahead of us near the carousel.

“Fuck.” I try to steer Autumn back the way we came, but she digs her heels in, refusing to turn.

“What are you doing? The map said Pickle & Rye is at the end of this row.” We’d decided to grab dinner after Autumn’s stomach had growled the second time, and Suitor’s Crossing’s popular deli seemed like a good choice, since neither of us make it into the brick and mortar location very often.

Now, I’m regretting that decision.

“Let’s cut back and over where there’s less of a crowd,” I say, holding her hand in a firm grip.

“Not until you tell me why. You look like you’re about to howl at the moon like a freaking werewolf.”

“Well, they do say I act like a beast,” I try to joke, but it falls flat when Autumn levels an unamused stare at me.

“Talk to me. What’s suddenly got you feeling all itchy and feral-y.”

“Feral-y?” A bark of laughter bursts free before I can bottle it. Somehow, despite the groups of people between us, it draws Ashley’s attention.

Her perfectly shaped brows lift as she wrinkles her nose in distaste. Guess she’s still pissed that I’m the one who broke things off with her after getting sick of how she treated me.

Autumn follows my focus, and the two women study each other before I manage to manhandle the too-curious-for-her-own-good woman in my embrace into the empty space between two tents.

“Was that…?”

“Ashley. My ex,” I confirm. No use denying anything. She witnessed Ashley’s reaction to seeing me.

“The woman who pretended to care about you,” she recalled.

“One of them anyway.”

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

I jerk back in shock. “What? No!”

“Just checking, since you were so quick to want to run and hide.”

“I was not trying to run and hide.” Mostly. “I didn’t want her to cause a scene by spying on me with another woman. Things didn’t end well.”

“Who ended them?”

“Me.”

Her mouth rounds. “Oh.”

Music from the carousel drifts on the air as we stand there staring at each other. Rather than a happy tune, it sounds creepy—a scary clown’s theme song—to my ears.

Or maybe everything is now glossed with a negative sheen after bumping into Ashley.

“Davie… Me… We remind you of her?”

My muscles stiffen in a visceral reaction. Weeks ago, I would have immediately agreed. Hell, even during our phone call, I had similar thoughts.

Autumn grew up in a wealthy family. Her parents expected certain things from her. A classy aura trails her every word and action.

But that’s not all there is to her.

She’s kind and sassy, and she wore dirty sneakers and an oversized tee tonight rather than Ashley’s perfect, but inappropriate for a fair, get-up.