Page 99 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

Suddenly my pulse is thudding like a damn drum and my pants feel too tight.

The heat of embarrassment travels up the back of my neck. Because when was the last time a girl got me so turned on that I started getting hard on the spot? Middle school?

But I’m no pubescent idiot, and she’s no girl — she’s a damn fine specimen of a woman, and I intend to make her mine.

I’ve never been one to be possessive. But something about her makes me want to beat my chest, roar at all the other guys looking at her, and circle my arms around her, protecting her body, mind, and soul.

With hungry eyes, I watch as she takes her seat.

I stride across the room and claim the chair facing hers.

I look into her eyes.

Suddenly it is very difficult to speak.

“Hi,” I choke out, neck growing hotter than ever.

The corners of those kissable lips curve skyward. “Hi.” She doesn’t give me an in, or an out. She’s watching me squirm and she’s not going to bail me out.

“You come here often?” I choke out, the heat rising to my face.

She shakes her head, hair washing over her shoulders. “Never.” She leans her face to one side. “You?”

“Not usually.” Do I sound breathless? I think I sound breathless.

As if it’s coming from a long way off, I hear the announcer reconvene the event and start the clock afresh.

“You’ve only got three minutes,” the exquisite woman across from me says, cocking an eyebrow at me.

Three minutes. Right. I’ve got to focus.

I open my mouth, ready to sweep this woman off her feet with my words.

“You’re pretty,” I croak.

Fantastic. Just swell.

She laughs, but it’s not unkind. She flushes like it’s not something she’s heard often, which is a damn travesty. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, voice small.

Okay, I haven’t lost her yet. I’ve got — I glance at my watch — two-and-a-half minutes to not put my foot in my mouth.

I can do it.

I think.

“I’m Xander,” I manage.

She peeks at me through thick, lowered lashes. “Autumn.”

“What brings you to Deadwood?” A complete sentence that doesn’t make me sound like a complete ass. Nice.

Her eyes shift away from me, fingers twisting in her lap. “My parents?” It’s like she’s asking if I can tell her why she’s here.

I don’t know how to say that it’s so I can take care of her for the rest of her days. Not without sounding like a psychopath, at least.

“I bet they’re glad you’re here,” I offer.

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