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I nod slowly.

Because I've been noticing it since about midheat. When her scent suddenly felt wrong anywhere except wrapped around me. I knew what it was, but a first heat isn’t the time for life-alerting conversations.

Briggs studies me for a second. "You've been thinkin' about it."

I look toward the house again and see Autumn's disappeared inside now.

"Yeah." The answer comes out quieter than I intend.

Briggs drags a hand across the back of his neck.

Outside, Tripp starts yelling about something, and a second later, Autumn's laugh drifts through an open window. Both of us look toward the sound automatically.

Neither of us comments, as that would require admitting a whole lot more than either one of us is ready for.

Still, as I push away from the stall and reach for another feed bag, one thought keeps circling back, no matter how many times I try to shake it.

I spent weeks telling myself she was Hunter's little sister, then I spent days lying to myself that it was just the heat.

Now, I'm running out of explanations, and I'm not entirely sure I want one.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Tripp

A week later, Autumn is standing in the middle of the aisle in the barn, arguing with a goat.

Not a person, not even one of the horses, but a damn goat.

The little asshole somehow escaped his pen again, and is currently standing on top of a stack of hay bales like he owns the damn place.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

The goat just stares at her, and Autumn points toward the open gate.

“Get down.”

The goat continues staring.

“I mean it.”

Nothing.

I lean against the doorway and watch the whole thing unfold for a solid seven minutes, before deciding this is officially the best part of my day.

“You losing an argument?”

Autumn jumps before looking over her shoulder.

“Oh good, you’re here.”

“Happy to help.”

She immediately points at the goat. “Talk to your employee.”

“It’s not my employee.”