Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(31)

“And you’re right handed, so handwriting it is out, too.”

He nodded. “Yep.” And even if he could write it out, someone would have to type it, and he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of anyone—especially her—seeing his book in its raw form.

“What about dictation software? That would save your hands. And I think you just have to download it.”

He blew out a breath. “I actually already have it and have tried it a few times to try and save my wrists.” He turned in his chair to fully face her. “It’s a mess. I spend more time editing what the thing thought I said rather than what I actually said. It’s horrible for fiction, honestly. It censors any cursing or sex I have in the book, and it never gets the names right. Plus the hes and shes are f*cked over. But it’s better than staring at a blank screen and missing my final deadline.”

Autumn pressed her lips together before speaking. “You can try that for a bit…and I can be the software too if you want.”

He frowned. “Huh?”

“You can dictate to me. I’ll type for you. You just have to say what you want me to write. I know it will be hard, but I understand the names and cursing and everything like that. I promise I won’t judge or change anything you want to write. I’ll be your hands if you’ll let me.”

He sat back in his chair and let his gaze fall to his cast. She wanted to type for him? He hadn’t even thought of something like that, and on the outside, it sounded like the perfect solution. From the inside, though, it was as if he were baring his soul for her to see every little bit of him. He wasn’t sure he could do that, show her who he truly was through his words. But he did that every day with his books anyway, didn’t he? Only readers didn’t know that. Didn’t know that each time he put his characters through the ringer, he was doing it to himself, as well. Each time he kept his characters on the run, he was running right alongside them, out of breath and lost until the next action came along.

Could he let Autumn see that part of him?

Did he have a choice?

“Forget it,” Autumn said quickly as she stood, running her hands over her skirt as if straightening the nonexistent creases. “I shouldn’t have said something like that since you’re so private about your work as it is. The hunting and pecking might be your best bet at this point.” She turned to walk out, and Griffin cursed under his breath.

“Wait. Come back. I was just thinking about what you being my hands would mean. I wasn’t pushing you away. Sit for a minute. Okay?” He gestured toward his thinking chair, rather than the one she’d sat in before. “You can even sit there, it’s more comfortable anyway. And maybe it’ll help us figure this out truly.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying his face, then slowly made her way to his lush, leather thinking chair and sat down on the edge primly.

He didn’t want to think about how hot she looked just then, all prim and proper with a mix of hippy nomad thrown in for good measure. He wanted to bend her over that chair and f*ck her hard until they both were a pile of limbs on the leather, sweaty and begging for more.

“It could work…” he said slowly. “But it won’t be easy. I’ve never…I’ve never put my thoughts out in the air like that. They always go straight to the page, you know?”

She relaxed some, letting her hands fall to her sides and she leaned into the plush chair. “I know. That’s why I saved that idea for last.”

He snorted. “Well, thanks for trying to spare my feelings at least.”

“I try.”

He smiled fully then, even though his career was rapidly spiraling away from him and he didn’t have the hands to hold on for dear life.

“I don’t know how to dictate my book, Autumn. I don’t even know how I write. It just…happens.” He frowned. “No, that’s not right. I outline if I can and plot out story arcs and pray it works. And then I sit at the computer and usually let the words fall from me. It’s a job, not a passion. Or not just a passion. This book has just been harder than the others for some reason.”

“Maybe because you were so worried about what would happen if you didn’t do your job, you ended up not doing it anyway.”

“That had something to do with it.”

Autumn licked her lips, and he grew hard at the sight of her cute pink tongue darting out over her plump mouth. She swallowed hard, and he met her gaze. She wanted him and was fighting it. Well, damn, he was fighting it, too. And once he opened his world, opened his words to her, it would make wanting her in his bed that much trickier. It might be worth it, though.

“Um…why don’t you start talking about what book you’re working on and maybe that will help?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” He leaned forward, the scent of her lotion making him want to taste, to touch.

“It’s the first time I’ve done this, you know.”

“How about you tell me about the book you’re reading.”

She frowned. “What does that have to do with anything? That book has nothing to do with yours.”

“Not necessarily true. I want to know how your brain works, how you like your books. And maybe talking about books, in general, will make it easier for me to talk about my own in a capacity behind a shielded interview.”