Page 63 of Snake

Why had she answered Cox, who had no right to it, so openly? She didn’t know.

Yes, she did. Because she liked him. No! She was attracted to him. Nothing more than that.

But that was such a lie she couldn’t get herself to believe it anymore. Maybe she needed to find a quiet minute and understand how it had happened, but it had happened: She liked him.

More than that—she felt safe with him. And that, friends and neighbors, was a stunning new experience, feeling safe with a patched member of the Night Horde MC.

“Didn’t look like you were managing him out there,” Cox rejoined, his voice mild and free of challenge. He was observing, not arguing. “That looked like he felt entitled—and it didn’t look like you agree about that.”

“I don’t.” She finished putting the last band-aid on. “He’s never been like that before. Usually, he makes stupid remarks, and that’s about it. This is the first business trip we’ve taken together, and he’s been a lot more to deal with, but ...” She sighed and said another thing she’d been trying to keep in the dark for a while, because its implications were too big to face until she was alone. “I’m glad—I’m grateful—you stopped him, but it feels like you were all getting him drunk intentionally, and I think his level of inebriation is why he pushed things so far. And you beat the snot out of him, so I’m going to have to deal with that when he’s sober, and try to figure out how not to get fired when he blames me—which he will.”

“He won’t fuck with you, Autumn.”

It was sweet, the conviction with which he made that claim. Autumn felt an irrational urge to brush his hair back from his face, but she forbore. “Unless you’re going to loom behind me like a bodyguard for the rest of my life, Cox, I don’t think you can do anything about him once we leave town. I’ll have to handle him myself. Which I’ve been doing for a long time.”

Cox stood up. He moved so quickly that Autumn stumbled back a step. He reached out his wounded hand and caught her arm to steady her.

“He won’t fuck with you,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a growl.

And then he kissed her.

Chapter Fifteen

What the fuck? Why the hell were his lips on Autumn’s?

He knew the answer. Didn’t know what to make of it, but he knew it: he’d been sitting on the fucking toilet watching her tend his ‘wounds,’ and his entire attention had narrowed to her mouth. Those gorgeous, full lips, her pearly top teeth biting down in concentration. The way her hair slipped from her shoulder to dangle before her mouth like a gleaming red curtain.

And she smelled fucking amazing, like wildflowers and honey.

He was kissing Autumn because he wanted to. Because he’d been wanting to from the moment he’d spoken to her this evening. Hell, from well before that. He’d wanted to kiss her again since that misbegotten kiss that spring—her far too drunk, him feeling like a bastard.

He shouldn’t have done it, but he’d been thinking about doing it again ever since.

When he’d seen her boss pawing at her, for half a second he’d been deeply jealous—until he’d seen her shrink from that touch. Then he’d been furious. Furiously protective.

He liked this woman. As a person. He felt ... calmer around her, even when they argued. He enjoyed her company. And that was an earthquake through the terrain of his loner self-concept.

He’d realized it with clarity in the Hall, while they played pool. Watching her study the table, lean over and set up her shots with skill and confidence, had him looking for a way to subtly shift himself in his jeans. His mouth flooded at that way she had of sweeping her hair to one side when she made up her mind and was ready to do something about it. But it wasn’t about her full lips, or her copper eyes, or her lush hair, or the pert roundness of her little ass. Her looks were just the wrapping, and a pretty girl had never turned his head so much he’d chase after her.

What had caught him was Autumn’s personality—the very thing he’d thought he’d hated, before he had a chance to get to know her.

She was tiny, even delicate, yet she filled up a room with her first step into it. She was smart and sassy, but she wasn’t flamboyant about it. Instead she was confident. Autumn drew attention everywhere she went, but she wasn’t interested in attention. She was interested in respect.

The thing that had been so off-putting about her was her confidence. She stood toe to toe with men and didn’t flinch. She had an opinion and she expressed it. When she was sure she was right, she didn’t prevaricate. She didn’t couch her words in the kind of self-effacing language men (and probably most women) expected women to use, like If that makes sense or Maybe I’m just not understanding ... She was direct. Confident. Forthright. Exactly the kind of person he didn’t despise.

What kind of asshole was he that he’d condemned her for being sure of herself?

There was a lot going on under her surface, more than he could guess at, but he’d been wrong to think of her as ‘Going to Work Barbie’ or a corporate snake. She was no empty-headed doll, and her boss was the snake. Autumn was just trying to do a good job, and maybe do some good while she was at it.

He didn’t agree that building a shopping center was ‘doing good,’ but somewhere along the line, he’d started believing that Autumn really did think so.

The thought of that piece of shit she called her boss vexed him like a splinter at the base of his brain. He hated men who hurt women, and it didn’t always take a fist to do damage. That Chase shithead was as big a bully as whoever had fucked up Abigail’s place. Maybe worse, because he had real power to wield.

The way Autumn spoke about being able to ‘manage’ him meant he was a constant problem. Everything inside Cox had drawn in tight when she’d talked about having to ‘fix’ things, like even that was her responsibility. It wasn’t true; the club was working right now to neutralize Chase Whatzisname, but Autumn didn’t know that. She knew only her history with that lech.

She’d insisted that it was her responsibility because she was about to leave, to go home with her boss and return to Indianapolis. Hundreds of miles away from Signal Bend. From the club.

From him.

---