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“Maybe,” Tripp says, taking a drink. “But she also called you sexy.”
Stupid, sexy asshole.
She’d muttered it under her breath while storming out of the kitchen with bacon in her hand, all messy hair and glaring gray eyes, looking overheated and pissed off, and somehow still so damn pretty it annoyed me.
Clint gets quieter beside me, and I feel the shift before he even says anything. “Something’s off with her.”
My hand stills on the hammer for half a second before I keep working. “Off how?”
“She’s been weird for days.”
“Autumn’s been weird since the day her brother dropped her off,” Tripp says.
“Different weird,” Clint says, and Tripp stops smiling.
I glance over at them. Clint isn’t joking anymore, he’s looking toward the house, mouth pressed into a line, brows drawn low.
“What happened?” I ask.
He drags a hand over the back of his neck.
“Found her in the chicken barn earlier after she stormed out of breakfast. I went looking because she took off mad, figured she was either feeding the chickens or plotting your murder.”
“She can multitask,” Tripp mutters.
Clint doesn’t laugh. “She was off. Said she wasn’t okay.”
The post hole driver feels heavier in my hand. “She said that?”
“Yeah.”
Autumn doesn’t admit things like that. Not without making you fight her for it first.
Clint shifts his weight, eyes flicking toward me and away again. “And somethin’ weird happened. Her scent hit me hard.”
My jaw tightens before I can stop it.
“How hard?”
“Hard enough I had to step back.” His voice stays low, not ashamed exactly, but not comfortable either. “Black cherry and almond. Stronger than it’s been. I said something, and she looked like I’d confirmed what she already knew.”
The fence line goes too quiet around us for a second, even with the wind moving through the grass, and Tripp setting his drink on the truck bed.
“She tell you anything else?” I ask.
“No.” Clint looks back toward the house. “But she looked scared.”
That word sits wrong.
Autumn gets mad, mouthy, and defensive. She doesn’t look scared unless there’s a damn good reason.
I drive the post down another inch because if I stand here doing nothing, I’m going to go inside and start asking questions she probably won’t answer, especially not from me. Not after yesterday. My phone buzzes before I can say anything.
Hunter.
Relief hits first, because Autumn’s been staring at her phone like she’s trying not to panic every time it lights up. I wipe dirt off my hand and unlock the screen.
Hunter- Tell Autumn I’m okay. President’s old lady got taken. We’re handling it. I’ll see if I can get her issue sorted that she’s panicking about.
