Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(20)

Griffin bent and rested his forehead on hers as he’d done countless times before. He still remembered when she’d been the one to bend. Time flew, he knew, but damn, he didn’t want it to go too fast; not when his dad wasn’t out of the woods yet.

He sucked in a shaky breath—the emotions too much—and stood. “All you have to do is ask. Anytime. Okay?”

Marie met his eyes and nodded. “Okay, Griffin darling.”

Griffin settled into one of the couches after his parents did the same on the other, and drank and ate while they talked of their day-to-day issues and accomplishments. He liked days like this; liked it when he could just sit and listen to the two people who had raised him, had loved him with every ounce of their being. Life wasn’t perfect—far from it—but sometimes he could forget his worries and just listen.

Of course, he couldn’t ignore the drawn look on his mother’s face. He knew she wasn’t sleeping as well as she once had. She couldn’t. Not with the love of her life in pain next to her. But things were looking up. At least that’s what they told him. He had to pray they wouldn’t cushion the blow if things went to hell. He was stronger than that. At least, he hoped he was.

“Have you heard anything from Alex?” Griffin asked finally, his hands around his glass. The condensation slid over his fingers, and he tightened his grip. He remembered the last time he’d seen his brother, the mad edge to Alex’s eyes. He could still hear the sound of glass breaking as Alex screamed and raged. He’d ended Miranda and Decker’s wedding early, his personal demons too much for any one person to bear. Only Griffin didn’t know what had driven Alex to drink. No one did.

Harry let out a breath. “Yes, he finally let us talk to him over the phone.”

Griffin carefully set his glass down and met his father’s eyes. “And?”

“And he’s staying in rehab, at least for the time being,” his dad said softly. “I think he’s finding the help he needs. Finally.”

Griffin closed his eyes and let out a breath. His baby brother hurt, and yet there was nothing Griffin could do for him. Once Alex got out, he hoped there was a way he could help, but he wasn’t sure.

“One step at a time, darling,” Marie whispered. She cleared her throat, her voice louder when she added, “He’ll come home when he needs to. And, hopefully, he’ll let us visit him. He might think he’s alone—at least that’s what I got from that phone call—but we’re Montgomerys. We don’t leave each other behind, no matter how hard we try to push each other away.”

Griffin smiled despite himself. Yeah, that sounded about right. He took another sip of his lemonade and nodded. “He can’t get rid of us that easily.”

“Damn straight,” his father agreed.

After they’d finished their meal and said their goodbyes, Griffin headed back home, his stomach full and his mind a bit fuller. He knew he had to work since he hadn’t written a word that morning and had spent his afternoon with his parents. But he always had to work. The resentment that came with that thought didn’t make him feel any better.

When he pulled into his driveway, he didn’t see the growingly familiar car that belonged to Autumn. He wasn’t sure why he’d expected her to be there since he hadn’t been home, but it was hard to ignore the pang of disappointment when he realized that she wasn’t there.

It had been four days since he’d seen her at the tattoo shop. Four days of them working together in his home in silence. She cleaned, shopped, and kept him fed.

She’d yet to venture into his office to actually help with his work.

He had a feeling she would have done it sooner if he hadn’t been such an *. Only it was f*cking hard to not be an * sometimes. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a curse. He needed help.

He knew that.

It didn’t mean he had to be goddamn happy about it.

With another deep breath, he got out of his car and made his way to the front door. As soon as he opened it, he knew he’d been wrong. The scent of soup and freshly baked bread assaulted his scenes, and his previously full stomach growled. Autumn’s light floral scent mixed with the hearty smell of food and his cock hardened.

Down boy.

It was weird that she would be there when he wasn’t. He knew she had a key thanks to his ever-annoying and loving sisters, but he wasn’t sure she’d actually use it. He also hadn’t left a note saying where he would be since she hadn’t been there when he’d left earlier. It wasn’t as if he should have thought about it, really. She didn’t live with him.

She worked for him.

Or at least tried to.

Autumn bounced into the living room and froze when she saw him. She had a basket of laundry under one arm and her phone in the other.

“Oh, you’re home.”

He closed the door behind him without looking, his gaze on her instead. She wore some kind of long dress today that hugged her curves without making her look like she’d tried for that effect. In fact, it looked as if she’d gone for comfort instead. He wasn’t sure that she could ever hide her curves, the sexiness of her presence. Her breasts here high, larger than his palms, and damn it, he wanted to hold them, squeeze them, learn the feel and shape of her nipples…find out the color and taste.