Page 71 of Snake

So, okay. Think about something else. What had happened between him and Autumn here ultimately did not matter. Right? For one thing, at the most basic level, she lived in Indianapolis—something like 350 miles away. He’d never been interested in a relationship when the woman was local; certainly he wasn’t interested in anything long distance. The idea of making the kind of chitchat that must be required to sustain a relationship like that made him shudder.

Hold up, though—why was he thinking about Autumn in terms of a relationship?

The steel door slammed shut again. Nope, not digging into that.

Fuck. Okay. That didn’t matter. A relationship was impossible, whether or not either of them wanted one—which he very much did not. Nope. So last night ultimately meant nothing. Just an epically good fuck. End of story. They’d get up, get dressed, go back to their lives. Not only was that the right choice, it was the easy one. Nothing had to change.

So why didn’t it feel easy? In fact, it made his chest hurt, like heartburn. But it was right. The fact that it hurt made him more sure that it was the right call—nothing in his life that felt good ever stayed. Better to stop it now, on his own terms, before hurt could sink in.

Anyway, what could he offer a woman like Autumn Rooney? Nothing in his life would do more for her than muddy her stilettos.

She stirred then, moaning softly and shifting to snuggle more tightly under his arm, tucking her head under his jaw. Her hair bunched up against his cheek, and he couldn’t resist turning into that silk, letting her sweet scent encircle him again as he pressed his lips to her head. There was some sex-musk mixed in with the flowers and honey now, and it made him hard again.

What was it about her that made him feel like this—feel good, feel calm? And how did he go back to being a miserable lump?

The groundbreaking on her big project was this afternoon. She was probably going back to her big city tomorrow, and then she probably wouldn’t have any reason to come back until after the build was finished. Maybe not even then. Maybe this was the last time she’d ever be in Signal Bend.

That thought kicked up the heartburn sensation about fifty degrees, but it also gave him a feeling he finally identified as a desiccated twist of hope. If she was about to disappear for good, then maybe he didn’t need to give up the good feelings just yet. If she was feeling it too, maybe they could hold onto it for a minute. They could play in this fantasy world for another day, another night, and then go back to their lives, when she left town. The stakes didn’t change if they played one day longer.

The word ‘play’ reminded him of their unfinished pool game and the bet they’d made: a ‘small favor.’ She’d been about to win when her boss had put on his floor show. Cox decided to look for a way to make good on the bet. What favor could he do her? He meant to figure that out before this weekend was over.

A light knock on the door pulled him from his musing. “Cox, you awake?” Double A asked softly on the other side.

“Yeah,” he answered, trying to project his voice without disturbing Autumn. He succeeded enough that she only stirred again, shifting all the way off his chest to curl up like a cinnamon roll against his side, but didn’t wake.

“Badge is in the Keep,” Dub said. “Callin’ us in.”

Cox checked his watch—just past five a.m. That meant trouble.

Moving carefully, he eased himself from the bed, grabbing his kutte from where it was still wedged between the mattress and the wall.

He pulled the cover over Autumn’s sleeping form. She snugged up more tightly and remained asleep. Like the last time he’d left her sleeping, he felt the powerful urge to leave her with a kiss.

This time, he acted on it. He bent low, brushed her hair from her forehead, and set his lips there.

As blue tendrils of waking dawn began to lighten the room, he hurried into his clothes and left, pulling the door to a silent close.

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~oOo~

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The seats at the Keep table were only about half full. Cox scanned the empty chairs: Isaac, Showdown, Len, Bart, Nolan, Zaxx, Saxon, Darwin, and Mel. All but Darwin and Mel were family men, or at least had old ladies, and half of them were over fifty. They didn’t hang around the clubhouse into the wee hours. Darwin wasn’t a huge partier, either; he usually bugged out before midnight. Mel could party with the best of them, but lately he’d been away during his downtime more than usual.

Under normal circumstances, Cox, also no longer much of a partier, would have been home as well. But last night had not been normal.

Though it hadn’t yet been dark when Cox had opted out of the partying last night, he assumed that everybody in the Keep this early morning had all been at the clubhouse overnight. Badger had apparently decided that whatever they needed to talk about before six in the morning was relevant only to the patches on the premises.

Badger and Double A were family men as well, also not hardcore partiers, but they’d been dealing with Autumn’s boss. Likely most of the men at the table now had been involved in that in some way. Cox assumed that was the reason they’d been called in.

Everyone was groggy and slouched in their seats, but Badger and Dub both looked like they hadn’t gotten a single wink of sleep. Badger didn’t bother to gavel the meeting open; another sign that this wasn’t an official meeting.

When everybody was settled, what Badger said shocked everybody straight up in their seats. “About an hour ago, Tommy had a stroke.”

“What?” Thumper asked, cutting off Badger as he was about to say more.

Badge gave him a look and continued, “He’s alive. He’s back in the ICU, in a coma. They don’t know how bad it is yet, but it doesn’t sound great.”

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