Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(5)

“He will, though,” Meghan said firmly. “We’re family.”

“Damn straight,” Storm added.

Autumn leaned back in her chair and pressed her lips together. Damn, she missed her family. Missed the way things used to be, though she knew they would never be that way again. Change and circumstances had seen fit to make that happen.

“Why the long faces?” a voice said from her side.

She looked up—way up—at the sexiest man she’d ever seen. And considering the hot as hell at her table right then, that was saying something. He had a day’s growth of beard on his firm jaw, and cheekbones that looked like they could cut glass. He was seriously pretty in a ruggedly handsome, I’m-in-a-bad-mood-so-don’t-f*ck-with-me sort of way. His hair was dark brown like the rest of the Montgomerys, and he’d cut it shorter on the sides but kept it long and spiked on top. From the way it went every which way, it also looked like he ran his fingers through it often. His dark blue eyes were also a Montgomery trait, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but feel like there was something…more to them than merely blue. Though she wasn’t sure what just then.

He looked like he’d rushed to put on a white button up shirt, but didn’t bother to button the bottom one or tuck it in. He’d also rolled up his sleeves, showing his tan skin and intricate ink. She wanted to lick up every inch of him, and from the way he looked at her, he knew it.

She cleared her throat as Tabby nudged her.

“Autumn? You okay?” Decker asked, giving her a knowing look. She’d have flipped him off, but she didn’t want to deal with any more questions about her reaction to the man in front of her.

He was a Montgomery, and since she’d met the rest of them except for Alex, who was in rehab, this had to be Griffin. The writer. The mysterious one, who had so far evaded her. Even in the hospital when she’d visited Meghan and Luc she hadn’t met him; and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

This reaction was surely not good for her.

“I’m fine.” She took a quick sip of her water since her voice sounded a bit too throaty for her. “What’s up?”

Storm winked. “Well, cupcake, we were just introducing you to Griffin, but you seemed lost in space.”

“Don’t call me cupcake,” she said absently, then turned back to Griffin and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Griffin.”

He clenched his jaw then gripped her hand in his own. She refused to think about the heat of his palm or the shock of flesh against flesh. It was nothing. Just a momentary lapse in judgment when it came to her thoughts.

“Cupcake?” he asked as he pulled away and took the last seat at the table—the seat closest to her, of course.

“Storm is a dead man who happens to think he’s funny,” she said dryly, pulling her eyes from his too handsome face.

“I’m sure—” Griffin whispered.

Hailey came at that exact moment and handed them their drinks and took their orders, saving Autumn from having to deal with whatever the f*ck had just happened. She’d met sexy men before, so it wasn’t like this was new. But she sure hadn’t had that reaction before. Maybe she was just hungry and lost in her own thoughts.

Because there was no way she would get with a Montgomery. Not when they were the only ones to hold her close when she walked through the shadows of her life. And she would be leaving soon anyway. Looking too closely at a man who made her brain and body act as if she’d been plugged into an electrical socket wouldn’t help.

“Nice to meet you, Autumn,” Griffin whispered in her ear. She held back a shiver at the feel of his breath on her neck.

This could be a problem.

“Or maybe I should call you Fall.”

She blinked at him, her jaw dropping at the lame joke.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be a problem at all.





Chapter Two


Writing a book was not for the sane of mind. Griffin Montgomery contemplated banging his head on his desk, but he’d done that a few times before, and all it had left him with was a headache and the beginning of a bruise—not so much with the words of wisdom needed to write a book. Or at least what he qualified as wisdom with his work.

He ran his hand through his hair once again and frowned.

When exactly had he last washed it?

He’d worked out two days ago. He thought. Maybe. And he’s showered after that—because not doing so wasn’t an option after a hard workout. But had he even thought of taking the extra time to jump in the shower since? Showering took time. Standing under the water and scrubbing down took minutes that could better be used to write. If he didn’t immediately sit down at his desk or in his thinking chair, he wouldn’t work. He’d find something else to do.

So when had he last showered?

Well, shit. If he had to ask that question, he was probably a day or two late in getting clean.

Griffin Montgomery was one hell of a prize.

He ran his hands over his face. Ah, yes, it had been two days ago because it had also been two days since he’d made a complete ass of himself in the middle of Taboo with Meghan’s friend Autumn.

What on earth had possessed him to call her Fall? Of all the juvenile jokes in all the most immature lands possible, he’d gone with Fall.

He banged his head on the desk despite his earlier rumblings of not wanting to hurt his brain. He was already pretty brain-dead at this point if the words coming out of his mouth and not on the page were any indication.