Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(22)

And if she could take part of the admin work he’d been ignoring for far too long away from him, then maybe that would help, too. He loved his fans, his readers. He knew they were the reason he was able to do something he loved. The fact he didn’t love it right then didn’t mean he didn’t love it at all. It was a love/hate relationship that made his writer brain usually yearn for more.

Only this time it was Autumn that made him yearn for more.

And that was damn dangerous.

“Griffin?”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “I’ll show you what I have when you come into my office. I’ve been doing this for a few years now, so I know it might not look like I know what I’m doing, but I’m not that bad off.”

She sighed. “I know you aren’t bad off. I’ve read your work, remember? I hear you typing away in your office so I know you can work hard. You’re letting me help bit by bit so I’m going to keep pushing until neither one of us can let me push anymore.”

He nodded then tilted his chin towards the kitchen. “I’m going to go get a drink. Just walk into the office when you’re ready to work.”

He moved past her, careful not to brush against her as he did. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, the mouthwatering scent of beef and barley made his body want to fall to the floor at Autumn’s feet and beg for more. More of what…well… again, he wasn’t going to think about that. But damn it, he hated himself just a bit more for it all. He had groceries in his home, food in his Crock-Pot, and found out he had a f*cking bread maker because of the woman in the living room. He obviously couldn’t take care of himself like an adult. He was a goddamn idiot—selfish and lazy.

“Why are you scowling? Did I not get you what you needed to make your drink?”

He cursed under his breath and lifted his head so he could see Autumn fully. She had her hands empty but was wringing them in front of her. He’d never seen her do that before, look so uncertain. And he was the one doing that to her. This strong, f*cking amazing woman and he’d made her wring her hands.

“I’m just pissed off that my house is so f*cking clean and filled with food because you’re the one doing it. Not me. Like I’m a lazy *.” He didn’t know why he let the words come out of his mouth, and from the wide eyes on her face and open mouth, he had a feeling Autumn felt the same way.

“You’re not a lazy *. All of what you said is what I’m here for. So you can think about other things. Damn, Griffin, you’ve earned that right.”

He snorted. “Earned? Are you f*cking kidding me? I just put words on paper. How is that earning.”

She waved her hands in front of him. “Oh, shut up. You do more than you think. You can’t quantify the way someone feels when they read a book, when they see an aspect of themselves in a character. Or even an aspect they want to be. I see what you do, I see how you struggle to make sure the book is yours, even though the reader thinks of it as theirs, as well. It’s not just words, Griffin. It’s a story, an idea. It’s a life. You do so much more than you think you do.”

He tilted his head, studying the way her cheeks had pinked with the passion of her speech, the way her breasts rose and fell as she took deep breaths. He loved the fire in her eyes, the way she knew things about him—the way he worked, the way he thought, even if he hadn’t known he felt that way at all. Her pupils were wide, dark, and when she licked her lips, he was gone for her. He could tell she wanted him just as badly, and yet they’d pulled away over and over again, ignoring what was right in front of them because it was the smart thing to do.

But despite his accomplishments, Griffin knew he wasn’t a smart man.

Not in the slightest.

He wanted her—body, mind, and maybe even her soul. But right then, he wanted her.

“The hell with it, Fall,” he growled. He prowled the two steps between them, wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and crushed his lips to hers. She gasped into his mouth before her arms went around his back, her nails digging into his skin beneath the cotton of his shirt. His free hand traveled up her side, trailing fingers up her arm, and then grasped her cheek, angling her face so he could deepen the kiss. Their tongues clashed, pushing against one another as they fought for control. He might have her in his arms, may have positioned her for what he desired, but she was the one who controlled him, who raked her nails along his shirt and skin, pushing him to go deeper, to kiss her until they couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think without wanting more.

This was Autumn.

The woman he wanted.

The woman he craved.

The woman who f*cking worked for him.

At that thought, he wrenched his body away, his chest heaving. He took a step back, slid a hand through his hair, and let out a shaky breath. “Fuck.”

“I…Griffin…”

He held up a hand, noticed it shaking, and lowered it. “I’m sorry. So f*cking sorry. Forget that happened. It was just a momentary lapse.”

She tilted her head but didn’t look hurt. Thank f*ck. “Okay. I need to go home.” She groaned. “But I need you to drive me still.” She closed her eyes and groaned. “You’re right. We’re forgetting that happened, but…”

He cursed again. “Let me grab my keys. You get that bag I never see you without and let’s roll.” He met her gaze. “I’m sorry.”