Page 16 of Riot of Autumn

Her chin tips up and her head angles back and forth as she searches the back of the restaurant. I know exactly why she’s in here. She spotted Ezra. That man just keeps bringing more misery into my life.

Loud laughter tumbles from the kitchen and Ezra comes out a few seconds later with a smile on his face. It’s so bright and genuine that I almost forget what I’m doing when he turns it on me. The grin falls when he sees my scowl.

“Cube—”

“You have a visitor.” I jerk my head toward the front door, cutting him off.

I almost cackle when his shoulders sag. Cadence and her mom are constantly sniffing after Ezra. Mrs. Bunchen says she’s trying to set him up with Cadence, but really, I think she’s a cougar, looking for a young snack.

“I was walking by and saw you through the window. I couldn’t resist coming in to say hello.” Cadence uses her sweetest voice and I snort. She’s a bitch. She once told me that my mom must have slept with a pig to have me, because I constantly smelled like shit.

There’s a raspy sound as Ezra swipes a hand over his shorn hair. “Ah, hey.”

Ezra’s standing behind me, using me like a shield. The big coward.

“Do you want to escort Ms. Bunchen out the door, Ezzie? It’s time to lock up.”

The look he gives me is full of so much promised pain I barely keep my laughter contained.

“Of course.”

He’s always so damn polite to everyone else.

Ezra rounds the counter and heads toward the door. I do my best to ignore them both as I finish up the last of my tasks. Poking my head into the kitchen, I say good night to Jericho and Tecia, who’s back there chatting with her husband. They wave me off, and I sigh as I head back to the front. Cadence has her hand on Ezra’s bicep, squeezing it as she laughs. Jealousy burns a pit into my stomach and I’m not sure which one of us I hate the most right now. Cadence, Ezra, or myself.

“Time to go.” I make a shooing motion toward the door.

Cadence glares at me with loathing, but Ezra opens the door and ushers her out. I’m sure he’s about to let the door close in my face, but he extracts his arm from Cadence’s hold and turns back to keep the door open for me.

His eyes capture mine and I can’t tear my gaze away. He doesn’t even look at Cadence as he says. “I’m walking Ruby home. See you later, Cadence.”

I should tell him to walk himself home, but that fiery pit of jealousy won’t let me. I don’t want him to have a reason to walk away with Cadence.

“That’s okay, Ezra. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” Cadence’s voice is fake and breathy. She throws me a dirty look while Ezra’s attention is on me.

I lock up the door from the outside, so no one else waltzes in on Tecia and Jericho. As soon as Cadence’s out of earshot, I lean into Ezra, mimicking her voice.

“Oh, Ezzie. You’re so big and strong. I want you to crush my delicate girl parts with your manly hands.”

Ezra shoves my shoulder, but not hard enough to do anything more than make me laugh.

7

RUBY

“Sounds like you’re thinking an awful lot about my man parts, Cube.” Ezra waggles his eyebrows, sweeping his hand down his body.

“Stop calling me that,” I hiss and shove him back. He chuckles and ignores the request, just like he usually does.

“Deflection won’t get you anywhere. Admit it. You’ve been dreaming about my big, strong hands.”

Ah, hell. Thank God it’s dark out, because I might actually be blushing. I do think about his hands. All big and rough, sliding over the skin of my stomach, up my sides and skimming over my breasts. Shit. Now is not the time to be falling down fantasy rabbit holes.

The street around us is nearly empty. Puck’s Diner is on the far end of Aspen Street, which is the main thoroughfare of Wild Haven Island. Most of the touristy shopping, bars, and restaurants are on this street, although there are more stores on the side streets.

The busy season of the summer is officially over now that it’s the middle of September. We still get a lot of people coming to the island on the weekends, but not week-long visitors like the ones who flock here in the summer. So even though it’s only a little after nine, Aspen Street is quiet.

“The only time I think about big, strong hands is when I can’t get a pickle jar open,” I joke as we make our way down the nearly empty sidewalks.

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