Page 144 of Knot my First Rodeo

"Exactly." She bites her bottom lip.

I laugh into my ice cream while she mutters something about my lack of culture and takes another bite. The funny thing is, I don't actually care where we are. Could've been here, the grocery store, could've been sitting on the tailgate back at the ranch. The activity isn't the point anymore.

It's her.

The hardware store comes next, because I need a few things for fencing repairs, and Autumn insists she has a DIY project she saw online that will make the chicken coop the cutest ever.

We part ways when we get inside, and when I find her again looking at paint strips, she’s got a basket on her hip. I look into it: garden gloves, chicken treats, a decorative metal chicken, and little picnic tables.

"Thought you were getting things to spruce up the chicken coop?”

"I am."

I point at the basket.

She points at the metal chicken. "We need him."

"I don’t think we do."

"Look at him." She pulls him from the basket and pouts her lips.

"It's a chicken."

"He's adorable." She's completely serious.

The metal chicken comes home with us, along with everything else in her basket.

I’m omega-whipped already.

The rest of the afternoon drifts by. We stop at the feed store, but only I go in to get the things we need. As an apology for making Autumn even look at the door of that hussie’s store, I take her to get coffee at the little place on the corner. Then before we head back, I park the truck and take her on a walk through downtown, while Autumn points out things she's never noticed before.

We end up sitting on the tailgate outside on Main Street while traffic crawls through town. Autumn kicks her boots lightly against the bumper while she watches people come and go. The breeze pushes a few strands of hair across her face, but she doesn't bother fixing them.

"You tell Hunter yet?" I ask.

For a second, she just stares ahead.

"No."

"No?" I repeat.

A small shrug lifts one shoulder. "Not like he’d answer me, anyway."

The answer surprises me, at the same time, it doesn’t.

“I needed him, and he ignored me,” she sighs. “He knew I lost my blockers. Knew I'd never had a heat before." A humorless laugh slips out of her. "Hell, he knew I was a virgin. I called him over and over because I was scared and didn't know what was happening to me."

Her eyes stay on the street.

"He couldn't even send a text."

I don't say anything, she doesn't seem finished.

"Then I find out he contacted you guys." Her jaw shifts slightly. "But he couldn't answer me. I would've taken anything." Her voice drops softer. "A text, a thumbs up emoji, a stupid meme. Anything that told me he actually heard me. It’s not like I was calling to bitch about being here, or just wanting to talk about my day. I was begging him to help me with finding my blockers, but he put his biker gang ahead of me.”

She looks over at me, and I see the tears welling in her eyes before she blinks them away and gets the hardened look she covers her hurt with.

"I know I need to tell him eventually."