Page 88 of Autumn on My Mind

I sigh and swat a bug away from my face before tromping off to find something to do.

The rest of the day meanders on until Joe and I finally close early and head home at four. Normally we’d be open tomorrow—Saturdays are busy—but the barn raising is going on over near the church at the end of Main. Most of the town will be there, and I’d like to visit, too, so we’re closed until Monday.

It’s nice, getting off a bit early. I retrieve my last donut from the corn dog stand and eat it on the way back to my humble abode.

And I know it’s only a shed in Dom’s back yard. But with the white picket fences and red-orange trees of classic New England suburbia all around, it’s an easy place to romanticize—to imagine it as an adorable, cozy cottage full of soft cushions and twinkling lights.

When I let myself in, it is still very much a workshop. But I smile anyway before getting my stuff together and then hurrying up to the house so I can shower the pumpkin patch off of me.

After that I spend an hour on the my sofa bed doing a large batch of creative briefs, formatting titles and checking links and keywords. It’s tedious, but I’m getting paid, so I persist.

I don’t hear the rumble of Dom’s truck pulling into the driveway until past six. By the time I reach the window to peek out, all I catch is a flash of his heavy-duty canvas pants and work boots before he disappears into his garage. My heart leaps, because it is a stupid muscle, but I remind myself it’s because we still haven’t discussed last night.

That is the only reason.

Still, my brain doesn’t work quite as efficiently after that, and when I’m finally interrupted, my fuzzy thoughts only gets more chaotic.

“Berkeley.”

My muffled name is accompanied by a knock on the door. It’s Dominic, obviously.

I ignore him.

“Berkeley,” he calls again, thirty seconds later and louder now. “I obviously know you’re in there.”

With a jittery sigh, I get off the couch.“There’s no Berkeley present,” I say through the door. “She’s busy at the moment.”

A faint snort of laughter reaches me. “Really? Because I think she’s hiding.”

“She’s not hiding,” I say, indignant. “She’s very tired. Exhausted. She needs her rest.”

“Is she at least decent?” he says back.

I glance down at my tropical pajamas. “Nope,” I call. “Stark naked.”

“Even better.”

My cheeks flush. “Such a scoundrel⁠—”

“I’m coming in through the window. You have ten seconds to get dressed, and ten seconds to stop referring to yourself in the third person.”

I’m already glaring at Dominic when I yank the door open. But he smirks and steps neatly past me, his hands in his pockets as he strolls casually into the shed.

I close the door and turn to look at him, my eyes still narrowed. “This is breaking and entering.”

“Not a single definition of that term applies to this situation.”

“Coercion, then.”

He makes himself comfortable leaning against the large cupboard, folding his arms over his chest. Then he raises his eyebrows at me as his gaze trails up and down my body, lingering on my pajamas and my wet hair. “Used my shower again, I see.”

“You said I could,” I point out. “The back door was open.”

He hums. “Did you snoop while you were in there?”

“Yes. No medicine cabinet was left untouched.”

“I don’t have a medicine cabinet.”