Page 81 of Snake

A layer of tension loosened, but she shook her head. “I can’t leave early. I’m part of this project.”

Somewhere along the way, she’d stopped calling it her project. Now she said our project, or something similar. When the Horde had signed on, they’d become part of the team. He thought it said something about her that she’d ceded some of the credit—and the responsibility—to them.

“The groundbreaking happened.” He turned and gestured toward the scattered crowd. “Now they’re just partyin’. They won’t take it any kinda way you’re gone.”

She stared at the scene for a minute, then freed a hand to do that thing with her hair, pulling it all to one side. “I do have to check in at the B&B, and I need to get my bags. But how? Do you have a car?”

Oh, shit. He hadn’t thought of that—he had his bike, which did not have a bitch seat. Because he didn’t want to ride with a passenger. Which was a thing he had never done.

However, he also did not want to send Autumn off to get a ride from anyone else. Nor did he want to borrow a truck from any of his brothers. He would never hear the end of it.

Turning back to Autumn, he looked her over. She was little, not much bigger than a child. She could ride in front of him without blocking his view or access to the controls. The ride to the inn was less than ten minutes; he could manage all that for such a short trip. Getting her bags without a truck was impossible, but he could call one of the club girls to bring them over.

The thought of getting her to the inn and having her to himself again made his heart kick in his chest.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

Autumn looked up at him, her eyes narrow. She took a long, deep breath.

She nodded.

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Autumn approached his Breakout like it was a snarling, rabid bear. By her reaction he knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

“You ever been on a bike?”

She reached out a hesitant hand and touched a handle grip with her fingertips. “Of course! I had a Huffy, a Schwinn, a Trek in college ...”

He chuckled. “Thought so. Doesn’t bite, promise.”

“Have you ever crashed?”

“Crashed, no. Dropped it a few times, sure.”

She looked up at him. “What’s the difference?”

“Depending where you do it, you can usually pick up the bike and ride on after a drop. Not so much after a crash.” He stepped close. “Scared?”

“I don’t know if it’s braver to say yes or no.”

“The truth is always the bravest thing.”

Her gaze seemed to deepen. “I’m scared.”

Cox sensed that she meant something bigger, but he wasn’t brave enough to explore that. Instead, he cupped her cheek—goddamn but her skin was soft—and said, “I won’t let you be hurt.”

For a moment she rested in his palm and said nothing. Then she lifted his hand from her cheek and pressed her lips to his palm.

Cox had to close his eyes as an electric charge surged through his arm and punched him in the chest.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s ride.”

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