Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  Things weren’t safe at her place, and he wanted her by his side. His hand curled around the handle of the pan as he forced himself to take a deep breath. He didn’t know if the tension came from this caveman instinct of his that had reared its ugly head, or the fact that someone had dared to hurt her, but he wanted to throw the damn pan out the window. Of course, then he’d be out of breakfast and would scare the hell out of Autumn.

  He put some bacon in the pan then got out another pan out for eggs. He wasn’t the best cook, but even with one good hand and one in a cast, he could scramble eggs, fry some bacon, and make toast. That paired with coffee would have to do. Autumn could probably do better, but he wanted her to focus on healing, not feeding him.

  She’d crawled her way into his heart. And he didn’t know how he felt about that.

  She wasn’t Lauren. She wasn’t sick. At least not then. Yet Autumn might leave him for a whole other reason.

  He’d shielded himself from others and kept his heart safe for a reason.

  “Something smells good,” Autumn said as she walked into the kitchen, her voice carefully neutral. He turned to see her, wanting to see her.

  She wore a long skirt and a cotton top with long sleeves. The skirt billowed around her ankles, making her look like she was walking on air. She was covered from neck to foot, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her.

  There was something wrong with him.

  This wasn’t the time to be thinking about his cock, about how good she looked. He shouldn’t want to peel that skirt up and fuck her hard against the counter. Instead, he should be worrying about her wellbeing. She didn’t have time to be fucked; her mind should be on other things.

  Or maybe they both needed exactly that, he thought as her gaze traveled up his body. He knew what she saw: a shirtless man cooking bacon in jeans and no underwear. He hadn’t bothered to button all the buttons on his fly, so if she looked, she’d see the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock.

  Probably not the smartest thing to be wearing while cooking bacon.

  He pushed the pan off the burner before it started to sizzle rapidly and burn his chest or other important parts of him and turned off the heat. Everything was done anyway.

  “I made bacon and eggs.” He cursed. “Forgot to make the toast, but we can do that now.”

  Autumn walked to him slowly, and he stood still, afraid any sudden movement would scare her.

  “I’m not scared of you,” she whispered. “You don’t need to walk on eggshells. I might fear him. But you are not him. Not once did I ever think that.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him once. Twice. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “It was nothing.” He didn’t know what else to do, the helpless feeling ready to overtake him.

  “It was something.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut tightly before opening them to meet her gaze. “I want to tell my family, Autumn. Tell the Montgomerys so they can help.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I can do that. You already know so it’s not like I can hide it from them for long.”

  He shook his head. “If you wanted me to keep it a secret, I would.”

  “Even from your family?”

  “Even from them.” The truth of that startled him.

  “We can tell them.”

  He sighed and kissed the top of her head; aware they’d kissed and held each other more in the past few hours than they had in their entire relationship.

  “We need to go to the police, Autumn.”

  She shook her head against his chest. “I don’t want to. Please don’t, Griffin.”

  He squeezed her harder. “Baby…Fall…we need to. I know a few people we can talk to that I talked to often when I was doing research. We won’t be talking to total strangers.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  He sighed. “Autumn.”

  “I don’t like giving in to you like this. It’s like I’m losing control.”

  He leaned back and tilted her head up with his fingers. “You haven’t had true control in far too long. You aren’t a young girl, and these guys aren’t in that bastard’s pocket. I don’t care what he thinks he can do, but he can’t come in here and hurt you. We’re going to fight it. I want you to be safe. I want you to stop...” He paused. “I want you.”

  After a long moment, she let out a breath. “Okay. We can go. It’s not like I can run for the rest of my life. But damn it, this is scary.”

  He kissed her then. Hard. “You’re so fucking brave.”

  She snorted, but he kissed her again.

  “So.” Kiss. “Fucking.” Kiss. “Brave.”

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he cupped her ass with his hands—cast and all—lifting her into his arms.

  “We’ll heat up breakfast later,” he mumbled and nibbled on her lips. She sighed into his mouth, and he turned to set her on the kitchen counter. She slid her leg up his back, pulling him closer to her.

  They kissed greedily; soaking each other in as they explored one another’s mouths, felt along each other’s bodies until they were both panting with need. Griffin leaned down to bite her nipple between his teeth, pleased to find that she wore no bra beneath the cotton shirt. Hands moved quickly as they stripped off her shirt, and he had her nipple in his mouth in the next breath. Autumn’s head rolled back and she tangled her fingers in his hair.

  “I need this, Griffin. I need you.”

  He growled against her breast before licking across her chest and paying special attention to her other breast. Autumn’s hands went from his hair to his back and then back again. They were both heated, gasping for air as he pulled away to slide his hands up her legs. When he found her bare between her thighs, he groaned.

  “Did you forget to pack panties and a bra in that bag of yours?”

  She shook her head. “I just want you in me.”

  He licked his lips and nodded. “First, I need my taste.” He lifted her legs to his neck, pulled her ass to the edge of the counter then slowly rolled her skirt up.

  “So pretty and pink,” he whispered. “You’re wet for me, Fall. I can’t wait to lap up all this cream and taste you on my tongue.”

  “Then you’d better get to it before I play with my clit and get myself off without you.”

  He could have fallen on the floor right then in relief. This was his Autumn. Sexual, confident, and his. He’d do all in his power to keep her that way.

  When he licked between her thighs, his beard brushing along her soft skin, she shivered. Then she pressed him closer, and he grinned before humming along her clit.

  “Greedy.”

  “Get licking, writer boy,” she panted.

  “As you wish, Fall.” He licked her, then nibbled on her lower lips before biting down on her clit. He lapped her up, slowly and methodically until she was coming on his face, her body shaking and her voice hoarse from screaming his name.

  “Griffin.” He wiped his beard on the back of his hand then stood straight, his gaze on hers. She reached out, tracing her fingers on his chest. There was a moment, a connection he couldn’t quite place. This woman…it scared him how much he wanted her. That internal click that didn’t make sense. He buried it for now, knowing he needed to be inside her, and then protect her before he thought about things too hard.

  He didn’t want to love again.

  He couldn’t afford to.

  He could be with her in the here and now, and then once she was safe, ignore the future.

  It was all he could do.

  She licked her lips then helped him undo his pants.

  “Condom,” he muttered.

  She reached into her skirt pocket rolled up on her hips and handed one to him. The woman had a plan. He had to admire her for it.

  He rolled it on his length and kept his gaze on hers as he slid inside her, one hand on her hip, the other on the back of her neck. They both moaned when he was fully seated. Soon sh
e had her hands on his back, her nails raking his body, as he pumped in and out of her.

  Just sex.

  No strings.

  He cared for her.

  But this wasn’t love.

  Love left. Love hurt. Love had left his brother in pain, in rehab. Love had left one sister broken after one man. Love had left him in agony after death.

  He would be with Autumn in the here and now, and then let her go when it was time. They came together as he thought about how it would feel to watch her walk away. She met his gaze, and he knew she’d seen something he hadn’t wanted her to see.

  Whether it was that click he would ignore, or the fact that he would watch her go, he didn’t know.

  He was naked and sweaty, his cock balls-deep inside the woman in front of him, and yet he did his best to keep his soul intact, to keep his barriers up. Because if he fell fully, he’d break.

  And Montgomerys didn’t break.

  He’d protect her life, then he’d leave her alone to live it.

  It was the only way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Something was wrong. Something beyond the fact that the cops may have believed her but couldn’t do anything at the moment.

  Autumn could feel the wrongness on her skin, in her soul.

  Only she couldn’t quite place it.

  She sighed and leaned against Griffin’s kitchen counter, folding her arms over her chest. Griffin was in the office doing some revisions on his book so he could get ready to write the very last part. She loved the way the book was coming together, but she hadn’t told him that. He didn’t look like he wanted to hear that, only wanted to get it done so he could make sure he was happy with it. Maybe then she’d tell him it was the best book he’d ever written in her opinion.

  The fact that she could tell he didn’t want to hear it spoke volumes.

  She saw more of him, saw more about him than she thought possible. Wasn’t this supposed to be a no strings, no complications relationship? In fact, it wasn’t even supposed to have the word relationship attached to it. Instead, she was living at his house, sleeping in his bed, and acting like a full-on girlfriend, or even, hell, a wife.

  And yet…

  And yet he hadn’t looked at her.

  It had been a week since she’d run from her home and into Griffin’s arms. After their bout of very spicy sex on the kitchen countertop, she’d noticed that something was different. There was something in his eyes that told her he was closing himself off, protecting himself.

  Or maybe trying to protect her in some weird way.

  He would help her find the man following her, be by her side as she spoke to the police and dealt with the legalities of her name and running, but he wouldn’t be there.

  She shivered and tried to hold herself tighter.

  When they’d gone to the police and Griffin’s contacts, she’d told them everything. She’d blurted it out like some insane person, but they hadn’t treated her as if she were truly insane. While they hadn’t been happy that she hadn’t come to them earlier, they did say they would try to help.

  And Griffin had been there the whole time, holding her hand and standing strong.

  He hadn’t smiled at her, though. Not that it had been appropriate to smile at the time, but he hadn’t winked or grinned or shown her anything other than that cool look he’d had when she’d first shown up at his place to clean.

  So now she was living with him, her home cleaned up thanks to the Montgomerys after the police had been there and agreed she could take away what things were salvageable. Maya had held her close then punched her in the shoulder once Autumn had told her about her past. The Montgomerys had gathered around her just like Griffin had told her they would.

  And yet Griffin was pulling away.

  She was sleeping in his bed.

  Working for him.

  Cleaning and cooking for him.

  And loving him.

  Damn it.

  When had she fallen in love with him? When had she taken the plunge and done something stupid like falling in love with a Montgomery.

  And not just any Montgomery.

  Griffin Montgomery.

  The one who had told her himself that he didn’t want to fall in love again because he’d done so before. He’d been so young when he lost Lauren, and it had scarred him more than he wanted to admit. And now she was freaking in love with him.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  With a sigh, she turned to start making dinner since it would need a few hours to cook. She reached underneath the counter for a pot then went to the other counter for a frying pan and cursed. She’d been living in this house for a week, working in it for over a month, and had been dealing with his unorthodox kitchen organizing system the entire time. It didn’t make sense that the seasonings were near the refrigerator and the cups near the stove. It should all be put in a way that would make sense for anyone who actually cooked more than eggs and bacon.

  The thought of the last time he’d cooked that for her made her blush, and she slammed the frying pan down on the stovetop. He hadn’t touched her since that morning. He’d let her sleep next to him, but there hadn’t been any heated moments, no more coming on his thinking chair or shower time breaks.

  She grumbled a bit more then let out a breath. “Screw it.” She went to the nearest shelf and started taking things out. She’d rearrange the damn kitchen and make it easy to use. He didn’t cook much anyway, and when he did, he’d find it would be easier. She was the one cooking. She was the one doing all this shit for him when all he did was act hot and cold and confuse the hell out of her.

  And if she kept her worries on her relationship with Griffin, she wouldn’t worry about the fact that a man was out to get her, hunting her for the past decade. That fear would never go away, but sometimes she needed to focus on something else.

  Something just as scary it seemed.

  “What is all that noise? What the hell are you doing?”

  She turned on her heel and dropped the package of flour in her hand. Puffs of white dust filled the air and covered her from head to toe. She coughed and looked up and winced. Griffin pinched the edge of his shirt and shook it once, another puff of flour filling the air as he did.

  “You scared me!” She was angry, pissed off, heated, all that other crap that had to do with ignoring her fear and dealing with the bearded man in front of her. Of course, his beard was currently white at the moment thanks to the ill-timed flour.

  If the damn man had his kitchen organized correctly before, this wouldn’t have happened.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Autumn?”

  Always Autumn. He hadn’t called her Fall since he’d come inside her on the kitchen counter. She didn’t know why that hurt so much. She loved him. Damn it, why did he have to pull away now?

  Of course, her loving him might have had something to do with it.

  “I’m cleaning so I can cook!” She knew she was yelling, but damn it, she didn’t know what she was doing.

  Griffin put his hands on his hips, looked around the now flour-covered room, and raised a brow. He should not look sexy covered in flour and acting like an asshole, but apparently, she had issues.

  “What’s with all the noise? And I thought you’d already cleaned. You have everything out of the cupboards and on the counters. What are you doing?”

  She blushed then, annoyed with herself. “Your kitchen makes no sense. So I’m organizing it.”

  His jaw tightened. “Why? It’s my kitchen. You’re fucking it up. I know you like things organized, but still, you’re messing with my things.”

  Seriously? This guy. He hadn’t spoken to her truly in a week, and now he was getting all ragey?

  “It’s my job to make sure things are working right. You let me organize other parts of your house.” She didn’t get why he was acting this way. Or maybe at this point, he was looking for any excuse to act like an asshole.

  “Yeah, you live here, fuck me, and you wor
k for me. I guess the lines are really blurring now.”

  Tears stung the back of her eyes and she took a step back, her chest hurting. Who was this? This wasn’t Griffin. He never spoke to her like this. He’d been so damn careful around her and now this?

  What. The. Fuck.

  She screamed, unaware she’d been so close to the edge. “You know what? Fuck you. This isn’t working out. I went to the cops and they said they would watch out for me. I can go back to my place now. They said they had a car doing patrols. I don’t need to be here anymore.” Her hands shook and she fisted them, forcing herself to keep in control.

  Griffin’s eyes widened. “You can’t leave. It’s not safe. That bastard is still out there.”

  “Well, I’m looking at a bastard right now.”

  “Don’t you dare compare me to him, Autumn. Don’t you fucking dare.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I didn’t mean it like that. But hell, Griffin. You’ve been treating me like an outcast, like something you want nothing to do with since the morning after I told you everything. I hate being here when you’re like this, Griffin. And if I want to organize your kitchen to help you out, then I shouldn’t have the fact that you used to fuck me thrown in my face.”

  “The lines are blurring, Autumn. But it’s not safe for you to be out there.”

  “If it’s not safe, then I can run again. I don’t need to be here.” Here where it hurt. She loved him. Loved. Him. And yet she couldn’t say anything. The man hadn’t wanted her in his life to begin with, and now he was acting as if she were something he was forced to deal with.

  She pushed past him, not wanting him to see her cry.

  “Autumn. Fuck. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m just stressed over this book and shit. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” He followed her as she made her way to his room.

  His room.

  Not hers.

  Nothing was ever hers. And she had a feeling she’d never have something just hers again. She started packing, throwing things back into her emergency bag. It didn’t take long, as she hadn’t felt comfortable enough to fully settle in. Griffin and her past had made sure of that.