Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(21)

But he wouldn’t do that, of course.

He was a professional—even if he didn’t always act like it.

He pulled his gaze from her breasts and caught the blush of her cheeks. Fuck. He wasn’t handling this well. Instead of apologizing like he should, considering that would just make it even more awkward with the two of them standing there, he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t see your car.”

She nodded, her eyes trailing down his body. When she stopped at his groin area, he did all in his power not to adjust himself. He knew his dick pressed against his zipper, could feel it even, but he didn’t want her to know he saw her staring.

Damn it.

“My car wouldn’t start.” A shadow passed over her face and he wondered what that was about. He always wondered about her expressions, wondered about her. “Meghan dropped me off. She said she’d pick me up or send Luc if you can’t take me home.” She winced. “Sorry for being a pain.”

He shook his head. “Not your fault your car won’t start. I’ll take you home when you’re ready.” He put his hands in his pockets; aware he’d just forced her gaze to his dick again. “Just let me know. And do you need someone to check out your car? Or at least get you to the shop?”

She shook her head. “I’ll take care of it. I just couldn’t this morning.” She paused. “But thank you.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

They stared at each other for at least a minute in awkward silence. He had no idea what to say next, what to do. He was a goddamn adult, and yet he couldn’t voice his thoughts. He should at least move away and sit down at his computer or something. That had to be better than staring at her like a lustsick fool.

“I was just finishing laundry,” Autumn finally said.

“I can see that.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and gestured toward the basket. “Uh, can I help?”

She blinked at him. “No, I’ve got it.” She smiled wryly then. “Of course, if you had done your laundry to begin with, we wouldn’t be in this situation, and I might not have a job.”

He snorted, thankful she’d broken the ever-increasing tension. “Got it. Well…I guess I’ll go to my office.”

She smiled then, and he had to swallow hard at the beauty of it. He had no idea where that thought had come from, and he wasn’t exactly comfortable with it.

“Sounds like a plan. I know you ate at your folks’ house—that’s what Meghan said at least—but if you’re hungry, I put beef and barley soup in the Crock-Pot, and since you had a bread maker, I made a loaf of sourdough.”

Again his mouth watered. “I have a bread maker?”

Autumn rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do. I had to clean it out since it wasn’t in the box, but it still had the plastic and cardboard inside the base unit.”

“Oh. That’s cool. I’m stuffed, but that smells damn good, so maybe in a couple hours.”

She smiled again, and he had to blink. “That’s what I figured. So, yeah, you go into your office and write. I’ll finish laundry. Once I’m done, though, do you think I can venture into your writing cave and work on your book bible?”

He frowned. “I already have a book bible.”

She nodded. “That’s what your editor said.”

His brows rose. “You talked to my editor?”

She nodded again, this time her gaze lowered. “Yeah, she, uh, emailed me today. She was talking to Maya, and Maya mentioned me.”

Griffin closed his eyes. Damn his sisters. He knew his editor wouldn’t say anything about deadlines or anything confidential, but her being friends with Maya wasn’t his favorite thing in the world.

“Okay, I guess. But if she said I already have a book bible, why are you going to work on it?”

She finally set down the laundry basket, and he could have kicked himself for not helping her as he’d helped his mother with the tray earlier. Autumn just put him off balance, and he wasn’t sure how to work with that.

She let out a breath and stared at him. “I read you, Griffin. Did I tell you that before?”

He wasn’t sure, but he liked the fact that she read him. It also left him a bit bare at the thought. “I don’t remember.”

She waved a hand. “It’s no matter. But I read you. I actually like your books, Griffin.”

He filled with pride, but he still didn’t say anything.

“And as someone who enjoys your work, I want to make sure you can focus. That’s why I’m here. So I’m going to take your bible and see what I can do with it. You shouldn’t have to do everything. You should be able to look at your book bible and glean what you need from it and just continue on. I want you to be able to know that everything you need will be in there and that it will be organized so you don’t have to worry. Do you have every single side character ever in your books? Do you have the color of a random dress from page seventy that might be important in the next book? Because that’s what I can help with. If you can just focus, maybe that would help.”

He knew what was helping, even if he was too tired and too stubborn to admit it.

Her.

Autumn.

Her presence alone was helping him write and it killed him. He’d written more in the past few days with just her near him than he had in the past two months. He didn’t know if it was because she’d cleaned and cooked, or if it was for a far deeper reason that he’d rather not think about now, if ever.