Page 84 of Snake

“Cox ...” she began.

His eyes popped open, and he lowered her hand, squeezing tightly. “No. Hush.”

Apparently no, he wouldn’t talk about this.

Last night, she’d very much enjoyed being subject to him, giving up control, doing as he asked, trusting him to treat her with care. He’d repaid that trust with magnificent care, and the near muteness of their wild lovemaking had deepened the emotion building within it, wrapped the experience in something like reverence.

Now, though, his dogged resistance to having a conversation made impatience twitch at the back of her neck. So she tried again.

“I know you don’t want to talk, and I don’t want to break the magic here—”

“Then hush, babe.”

It was absolutely ridiculous how hard that one little word hit her. Babe. It was a cliché, totally basic. But from a terse man like Cox, it felt like a declaration. A vow.

She didn’t want to push him away from that, but she had something to say. So she persevered. “I need to say this. Please let me, and hear me.”

After a moment of studying her as if he could uncover nefarious intent if he looked hard enough, he nodded.

“I don’t know if it matters in the big picture. I don’t know if anything can change in our lives. If it can, I don’t know if it should. But I am old enough to be more afraid of missed chances than of disappointments. So I need you to know—nothing more than that, just to know—that this time with you feels ... significant to me.”

Cox replied with a single word, but it said everything she wanted to hear.

“Monumental.”

Autumn’s eyes began to ache with new tears. “Yes.”

Cox drew her in close and kissed her the way he did every time, as if he lived by her breath alone.

Instantly, despite the bruisy burn between her legs, she wanted him again. But when she reached between them, seeking his cock, he caught her hand and pulled back.

“Out of condoms.” He smiled. “And we should get some food soon. We skipped dinner.”

They had, hadn’t they? And for lunch, all she’d had was a hot pretzel and a lukewarm beer.

“Fine. But let’s do room service. I don’t want to get dressed. Ever again in my life.”

With an almost-chuckle, he rolled to his back, and Autumn slipped from the covers to collect the room-service menu. Crossing the room naked, she could feel his eyes on her, so she added a little sway to her stride and got a soft growl as a reward.

While she stood at the desk, his phone rang. Oh, she hoped it wasn’t the Horde calling him in for some reason. Maybe cleanup from the groundbreaking ceremony? Or—no. Hopefully not more bad news about Tommy.

“It’s Cox,” he said as he answered. Then, “Hey, Tal ...”

Unable to help eavesdropping, Autumn flipped slowly through the slim hotel binder, pretending to study information about check-out times, laundry service, the fire escape route, but Cox did not say another word. When she arrived at the menu, she turned to him.

He stood stark naked beside the bed. The call was apparently already over; his phone rested in his hand, beside his thigh. He stared straight ahead. He’d become a statue.

“Cox?” Nothing.

She went to stand before him. His expression was flat except for his eyes, which were wide with shock, but a completely different breed than he’d shown her all morning. This was horror, not hope.

It was Tommy, wasn’t it? He’d had a stroke less than two days ago. Had he died?

Tears already welling at the back of her eyes, she set a hand on his arm. “Cox, what happened?”

Again, she got no reaction. She was seriously considering doing a Hollywood slap to snap him out of this when he blinked and looked down at her. He frowned deeply, like he didn’t know why she was there.

“What happened?” she repeated.

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