Page 102 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

I can’t fault the guy for that.

Especially not with Autumn sitting beside me. The truck isn’t wide, and the front seat is one long bench, so when I lace an arm around her shoulders, she curls into my side.

With Autumn, I don’t feel lost.

Quite the opposite.

I pray to any god that’s listening that she feels the same about me.

Finally, my headlights land on the wrought-iron gates of the graveyard. I take her through the front entrance, which is so much prettier than the back drive. Turning to enter the cemetery, I stop at the keypad that stands sentinel outside. I crank down my window, the cold October air blasting into the warmth of the cab, and enter the code.

The gate swings open and I drive us in, the metal clanging shut in our wake.

Autumn looks at me with eyes wide. “Please tell me you’re not a serial killer.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not.”

“Then you’ve brought me to a graveyard because . . . ?”

“Because it’s mine,” I answer softly as I slowly steer the truck along the lane. “It’s been in the family for generations. When my dad died, I became the next caretaker.”

Autumn lays a hand on my thigh and I order my cock to stay put. I appreciate the comfort she’s offering, but my body’s screaming for more — for everything that she has to offer.

And my heart? That’s screaming too, but for not just Autumn’s body. No, I want all of her to be mine for the rest of mydays.

Which sounds nuts.

But maybe that’s exactly what I need — to stop being so damn dutiful, to quit flagellating myself with what I perceive as my responsibilities.

Maybe Andrew and Mom are right. Maybe I’m not okay.

And maybe Autumn’s the one to help make me better while I do the same for her.

I stop the truck, put it into park, and kill the engine. Turning, I graze Autumn’s cheek with my thumb. This is the first night out of more than I can count that I’ve felt okay, like I’m not just another one of the dead.

No, not just okay — that I’ve feltgood.

Autumn makes me feel good, body and mind and soul.

“This place,” I say, gesturing at the grave markers, “is my heart.”

“Show me more?”

I nod mutely, floored. She’s not scared, not freaked out. She sees me and my life as is and accepts both.

This woman is a damn dream come true.

Autumn doesn’t notice my shock because she’s unbuckling her seatbelt without hesitation and hopping out of the truck.

Remembering how thin her coat seemed, before I follow Autumn I reach behind the front seat and grab a few of the thick blankets I keep there, just in case. Bundling them under an arm, I get out of the truck, take Autumn’s hand, and lead her through the cemetery.

“This place is my ancestral home, and my childhood home,” I tell her as we wander. “All the best memories of my life are tied up in this place. All the worst ones too. I love it and,” I draw a deep breath and force myself to speak the truth I’ve never told anyone, “I hate it also. Because it reminds me of how damn lonely I am.”

I don’t realize that I’ve shed a tear until Autumn reaches up to wipe it away. “I feel lonely too. I didn’t realize how much until tonight,” she whispers.

I clasp the base of her skull firmly, thrilling at how the protector of her brain, source of all that she is, fits perfectly in my hand. I want to be her protector too. “I don’t feel lonely when I’m with you,” I say fiercely.

Now her eyes are glittering with tears in the starlight too. “I know exactly what you mean.”

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