“Okay,” she said as she removed her hand and gripped her binder for dear life. She was using it as a shield again, pressing the large white plastic against her chest.

Another yearning came over me as we walked through the entrance to The Purple Goat. I wanted to wrap my arm around her waist, hold her body against me, show everyone she was mine. Especially the dozen or so male eyes that tracked her every movement as we were seated at a booth near the bar.

Autumn fidgeted with the drink menu as I took in the place. It reminded me more of an English pub than a weird eclectic diner, which is what I had been expecting based on the name.

“How’d this place get its name?” I asked Autumn as I grabbed my own copy of the drink menu.

“No idea,” she said as she placed her menu and binder aside. Her dancer-like arms came up and rested on the table as she clasped her hands together. “It’s been a well-kept secret for decades. Also, there is no regular menu. You eat what the chef makes. And believe me when I tell you that everything is delicious.”

“I trust you,” I told her as I eyed a local brew that sounded right up my alley.

“Really?” I glanced back at to find Autumn staring at me in both awe and confusion. Her doe-like eyes were wide, making the blue irises sparkle under the dim light of the restaurant. Her plump lips parted forming the shape of a tiny O. Somehow my simple statement had rendered her shocked and speechless.

“Yeah. I knew the moment I met you that I could trust you.”

“How?” she whispered, still in amazement.

“I don’t know. I just get a good read on people. My coaches always said it helped with my game.”

“Huh.”

She was still perplexed when an older man came to the table and introduced himself as Harold. He instantly brightened when he saw Autumn sitting across from me. In the two seconds he’d been at the table, I’d already watched him crack a joke at Autumn’s expense and tears glistened from the corner of her eyes as she laughed. The giggle was melodic and honest, just like her.

By the time he stepped back to the bar with our drink orders, I couldn’t remember what he’d said was being served for dinner. But as I told Autumn, I trusted her judgement.

“So, want to show me your goodies?” I probed as I reached for her binder, only for immediate pain to splinter across my skin as she slapped the back of my hand.

“You could ask nicely.”

“Autumn, I would be honored if you could please share with me the well-researched information you found regarding the house.” I even threw in my signature smirk at the end. It was usually the way I could get Nina to end whatever argument she was having with me at the moment.

“Um. . .yeah. Okay.”

At least I knew the smolder worked on just about everyone as Autumn opened the binder and turned it to face me. A server placed our drinks on the edge of the table and we both immediately reached for our respective glasses.

As she flipped through the pages, I took note of how much effort it must have taken to find such detailed work. There were images of furniture that would have resided in the house and the pattern of wallpaper that used to decorate the walls. She had multiple images of similar homes and colors that I could draw inspiration from and utilize. Autumn’s notes were so detailed that she had ten pages of paint color and wood stains that would achieve a true historic aesthetic.

It may have been a working farmhouse, but it was extravagant nonetheless.

“I’ve been trying to research the town archives for pictures of the house. Interior and exterior. But I’m not having any luck. The town came after the house.”

“This is fascinating,” I told her as I sifted through the stacks of pages again.

“You really think so?”

My gaze collided with hers and my breath left my lungs in a whoosh. Somehow, I knew that a chink in her armor had fallen away. I’d taken down one of her walls with a simple compliment.

It left me wondering about some of the men she’d dated in the past. Were they the kind of men that cared for her, or did they look at her as a possession? I knew a lot of guys like that and their girlfriends and wives became shells of themselves.

One of the servers quickly refilled our drinks without us having to ask as I leaned back in the booth.

“So, want to tell me a little bit about yourself, Autumn?” Now that I had a chance to really take her in, I let my gaze casually travel across her body. She was the same size as her sisters, but with a bit more curves. She was a knockout.

Taking a sip of my beer, I let the cool liquid linger in my mouth before swallowing. From behind the glass, I noticed Autumn’s eyes glaze as she watched the movement.

“Not much to say, really.” She nervously played with the ring of condensation left by the bottom of her own beer glass. Impulsively, I reached out and twisted my finger in hers as she traced the water.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

The beautiful waves of hair surrounding her oval face fluttered as she puffed out an exasperated breath of air.

“Well, if you must know. I grew up here. I have three sisters and a half-brother. He’s closer to your age, actually.

“I lived in New York for the last few years and worked at Regent Events as an executive event planner. The owner and I dated the last two years until he cheated on me with one of our married clients. They are now living together in the apartment we shared. And here I am. . .homeless and jobless at the ripe age of twenty-four.”

“Fucking pathetic,” I mumbled and instantly regretted my words as Autumn’s body stiffened. Her shoulders pressed against the booth back and she raised her body another few inches. “Excuse me?” She was hostile and pressing for a fight.

“Hey, hey, hey. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about your ex. What a fucking pathetic asshole. Who the hell would cheat on you? You’re smart as fuck and beautiful. That man must have lost his mind.”

“Oh. . .ugh. . .no, he was quite brilliant, actually,” she said hesitantly.

“I don’t give a fuck if he was as smart as Stephen Hawking. That man was a fool to leave you. Let alone cheat. Bastard.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her body now lax against the booth again. “For. . .uh. . .defending me. All of our mutual friends sided with him. Which I guess is for the best, since I find myself in the place I wanted so badly to get out of as a teen. It would be nice if he would stop calling and messaging me, though. He ended things but can’t seem to let go.”

“Ashfield is amazing. You have no idea what I would have given to grow up somewhere like this. Or anywhere to call a home, really.”

Our server chose that moment to bring out our food. A pasta dish of some sort. It sat untouched as Autumn asked me what I meant.

“I grew up in foster care. Even as an infant, no one wanted to adopt me. So, I hopped from foster home to foster home. Hockey was the only home I had.

“Funnily enough, I spent the last few years playing for the New York Renegades.”

“I know,” she said with a giggle as she took another sip of her second beer and swirled the pasta around her fork. “I may have looked you up.”

“Did you now?” I was intrigued. She didn’t peg me as the sort to follow any gossip considering how terrified she was of the rumors swirling around the town.

“Don’t be so surprised. I needed to know who was living on the land next to ours. For safety reasons, of course. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.”

The rest of the meal was made talking about some of our favorite places to eat in New York City and I argued with her for a solid ten minutes that not a single restaurant could hold a candle to The Purple Goat. I was so adamant I ordered a second plate of the pasta to take home with me.

“You know, you’re making me like you,” she said as the server brought her a third beer. I stopped after the second since I was driving.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Maybe,” she murmured.