Page 6 of Autumn be His Wife (Alphas Fall Hard Collection #4)

Dusty

Even though I know I need to keep my distance from this woman, my strength dwindles. Especially after how I react each time I touch her, I know there’s no way around it.

I’m feeling like a ticking time bomb.

We’re on day three now. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Piper was no longer worried about finding Julian. She seems quite satisfied staying right here in my cabin.

I should be bothered by it. Hell, I should be helping her out of my home and onto the next steps of her life, but that’s not what’s happening at all.

Today, I let her stay at home instead of dragging her to the clinic. Rather than using it as some kind of test to see if I could trust her or not, I simply couldn’t bring myself to disturb her sleep.

She’s not used to waking up early.

Now she’s welcoming Eli and me to a meal using ingredients she’s scavenged from the cabinet. I won’t lie, if she’s trying to convince me to let her stick around, she doesn’t have to go that far. In all truth, if she started packing her bags, I’d ask her to stay. Possibly beg.

Thankfully, neither of us has tried to break this pattern. Hell, I might let an entire week pass before I breathe a reminder about her arranged marriage or anything that deals with our current predicament.

Once our meal is shared, I’ve moved to clean up the aftermath, happy to wash the dishes while a conversation plays out at my back.

She’s sitting at the table with Eli as he works on his homework.

He’s in amazement as he shoots equations at her in an attempt to show her that math without a calculator is too challenging.

Unfortunately for him, she’s giving him the right answers from the top of her head while he continues to tap numbers on the small device.

“I’m really good with numbers.” She smiles sweetly at Eli as she huddles closer to him at the kitchen table. “Call it a hidden talent.”

I must admit, it is impressive to listen to her continue to amaze him. She’s not just humoring him; she’s enjoying the back and forth. Like she hasn’t had someone to show.

As much as they enjoy the conversation, Piper has to reel him in to doing his work instead of distracting himself.

Surprisingly enough, he listens to her. Thankfully, with my attention in front of me, neither can see the awe on my face.

Once math is finished, so are the dishes. Not wanting to interrupt this success with homework, I continue cleaning as they move onto reading.

Somewhere between wiping off the stove and cleaning up the crumbs on the counter, I hear Eli’s soft voice as his attention derails again.

“Can I have my room back?” His voice is so soft, but hardly enough to miss as he whispers the question to her. “Dad snores too loudly. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Knowing him, he must not want to hurt my feelings. That’s why this is news to me.

Just as I turn to look behind my shoulder, Piper lifts her gaze to look over at me. Her brows are lifted, her lips parted. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words.

“Um, yeah. Of course. I don’t want to be the reason behind you not getting sleep.” Her smile seems forced, but she’s trying to keep her voice sweet for him.

“We can swap.” Eli beams, utterly clueless to the dangerous ground he’s treading on as he forgets all about whispering. “Give me a break, and then you can have my room for a couple more days.”

He looks so proud of himself, like he’s just solved world peace. But my gaze isn’t on him. It’s locked on Piper.

I watch the blush bloom across her cheeks, a delicate, heated flush that travels down her neck and makes my fingers twitch with the need to feel its warmth.

Her eyes dart to me, wide and searching, as if I hold some answer to the sudden, dizzying tension in the room.

I have an answer, alright. The image that forms in my head is instantaneous, unbidden, and devastating.

Her. In my bed. Not just sleeping. Curled at my side.

Her head on my pillow, her hair fanned out, smelling of sunshine and that faint, sweet scent that’s uniquely her.

The dip of the mattress under her weight, the soft sound of her breathing in the dark, the heat of her body a brand against mine.

The sheer force of the fantasy steals the air from my lungs. I know what I want. I want it with a desperation that aches in my bones. But the thought of her feeling pressured, cornered, of that soft light in her eyes dimming with awkwardness—it’s a cold splash of reality.

The ache in my chest sharpens into something fierce. The last thing I want is for her to feel so out of place that she thinks of leaving. The mere idea is a physical pain, a fist closing around my heart.

My voice is a low rumble, a forced calm to smother the fire inside. “I can give you my bed, Eli. I’ll sleep on the couch if it’s that bad.”

Eli’s face crumples into a frown. “That couch is terrible,” he argues, a child’s logic frustrated by an adult’s complication.

Piper worries her plump bottom lip between her teeth, like she’s considering the trade. The air hangs thick, charged with everything unsaid.

Then her voice, soft but clear, slices through his agitation and my internal war. “I don’t mind trading.” She pauses, the silence thick enough to cut with a knife. “If you don’t, I mean.”

The stirring in my chest doesn’t just travel; it plummets, a molten heat coiling deep in my gut. For a second, my head spins and I get dizzy.

“It’s fine.” Turning back to the counter, I feel the heat creeping up my throat. “I hope you don’t kick around as much as he does when he sleeps.”

“I don’t kick!” Huffing at the claim, he soon sighs. “We can figure out when to swap later. If you only last a day, I don’t blame you.”

Her laugh makes my body tingle, and I have to manually move my arms as I clean to hold back from turning back to see what kind of expression is on her face.

Is she willing to swap because she feels obligated?

Or could she actually want to?

I’m left haunted by that question for the next few hours. When Piper is moving her luggage into my room, I still don’t have an answer. Not when she slips away to take a shower, or when I do the same.

Just thinking about her curled up in my sheets has me stroking my cock while I’m meant to be shampooing my hair.

I need to get this hunger out of my system before I’m left alone with her. While I might know the difference of what’s right and wrong, my body doesn’t give a damn.

When I leave the bathroom, I find her in the living room. She’s curled on my couch, a silhouette against the glow of the fireplace embers. Knees drawn tight to her chest, eyes fixed on the dying fire, but seeing something miles away.

I notice her silky pajamas first, trailing along the glowing light bouncing off the pink fabric. Looks soft to the touch, just as much as she does.

She’s so deep in her own world that she doesn’t even notice my approach. I move right in front of her, and her gaze doesn’t flicker; she looks straight through me like I’m a ghost.

My chest tightens. I have to reach for her. Disturb whatever is going on in her head.

The second my fingers brush her shoulder, she jolts, a sharp intake of breath breaking her trance. Blinking a few times, she looks surprised to see me.

A laugh escapes me, hardly loosening the knot that’s in my chest. I curl my hand back to my side, my skin tingling where it touched her.

“Sorry. You were a thousand miles away.” I search her face, every instinct telling me to close the distance again. “Everything alright? If you’re worried about—”

“It felt weird helping myself to your space without you in it,” she says, the words rushing out like she’s been holding them in. She uncurls, rising to her feet and forcing me to take a step back. Her eyes find mine, clear and sure now. “I’m comfortable with you, Dusty. I promise.”

The smile she sends my way hits me right in the chest, and it leaves me fighting for my next breath.

Not wanting her to see what kind of state she leaves me in, I turn away. Heading toward my room, she follows close behind, assuring me that Eli’s already tucked away back in his room with each step.

My heart is hammering against my ribs. I changed the sheets. Of course I did. But for a moment, I’d considered not. I’d pictured her asleep in my bed, surrounded by nothing but me, my scent on her skin.

I had to talk myself down from the edge of that particular thought.

Now she’s casually drifting over to one side of the bed, her fingers trailing the blankets with each step. Once more, she looks thoughtful.

If I ask her if she’s sure about this, I’ll sound like a broken record player.

“What is it?” The words leave me, the demand to know what she’s thinking.

Considering her next words, she bites her bottom lip. “I’ve never slept in a bed with a man before. You’re the first, Dusty.”

My earlier, feeble attempts at self-control go up in flames right there on the spot. Heat floods my veins, and my cock, which I’d just managed to relieve, stirs to life beneath the thin layer of my pajama pants.

Pointless. All of it was pointless. She’s innocent personified, standing in the dim light of my room, and she has no idea she’s just dropped a bomb.

I force a breath, trying to sound casual, trying to be the man she thinks I am. “It’s not much different than sleeping alone,” I say, the lie rolling off my tongue.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Sleeping alone brings blissful silence. This will be a sweet, slow torture.

Every shift of her body, every soft sigh in the dark, will make sleeping impossible. Her scent will be on my sheets, in my air, and I will lie there, rigid with want, memorizing every never-ending second.

She just nods, accepting my lie, and crawls onto the bed. Curling beneath the blankets, she nods her head once she’s comfortable.

Knowing what hell I’m about to face, I flip off the light and trudge forward, dreading what’s to come.