Page 45 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

The sun crested the lake, the molten water sparkling gold. The world was once again coming alive.

Autumn brought the coffee cup to her lips, taking a small sip of the hot liquid and adjusting the blanket around her shoulders. She heard the soft pad of feet and glanced over her shoulder to see Sam, white hair mussed, eyes sleepy.

She felt a small zing in her belly at the sight of him, at the memory of what they’d done the night before. It had been…well, frankly, it’d been hot. And amazing.

Things were already complicated. And she hadn’t figured out exactly how the night before changed things, but it certainly had. She’d gotten up with the sunrise to think about that, but each time she pondered it, all she wanted to do was relive it all over again.

So yeah, no insight had been gained.

“Good morning,” he said, his gritty voice rolling over her nerve endings and causing them to tingle.

“Good morning.”

He took a seat beside her, and she offered him some blanket.

He took it, scooting in next to her so that half went over his shoulder, and half went over hers.

She took another sip of her coffee. She’d noticed he didn’t drink coffee either and thought about whether she should try to introduce it to him like she’d done with hot showers and decided that she didn’t want him to feel like she was trying to take control of every aspect of his life.

If he wanted coffee, he could ask for some.

“There’s a heart on that squirrel’s fur,” he noted.

She followed his gaze to where a squirrel sat busily gnawing on a nut, one eye trained on them.

It had darker markings near its hip, and Autumn could see that those markings were indeed in the shape of a heart.

She watched the squirrel for a moment as it watched them.

She glanced at Sam, taking in his now-familiar profile.

She wondered how a man who had endured a lifetime of lessons in brutality would notice a heart on the side of a squirrel.

She wondered at how a sensitivity like that hadn’t broken him.

“Once,” he said, still watching as the squirrel scampered up a pine tree and disappeared into its branches, “I went into a tiny bookshop in Bangalore.”

She watched him, curious and mesmerized, wondering where he was going and why he’d thought of it.

She stayed still, as though to make a movement might snap him from his sleepy reverie.

And because she sensed that he was allowing her a peek into the heart of him, she waited with bated breath for him to continue.

“It smelled like tea and old paper,” he said, drawing in a breath as though he could smell it still.

“I sat in the back, and I looked at the pictures in this book about how to cut paper into art using a scalpel and removing so much of it that when you held it up, you could see right through it.” He nodded to the place where the squirrel was rustling the tree branches.

“Squirrels…flowers, feathers, all sorts of things.”

“That sounds amazing,” she whispered.

“It took me two hours to look through the book cover to cover. I wondered why someone would want to cut paper into pictures. To put such meticulous, time-consuming work into something that would only sit on a shelf or hang on a wall? I thought about it for a long time. The old woman who ran the shop didn’t tell me to go.

She let me sit there most of the day. She offered me tea and cookies that tasted like spice. ”

“What did you decide?” Autumn asked. “About the reason someone would cut paper into art?”

“That there wasn’t a reason at all, except that it was beautiful.”

Her eyes hung on him, his sharp angles, the scar that ran down his cheek. “Did that seem silly to you?” she asked. This man obviously had so little beauty in his life.

“Silly?”

“To do something merely to enjoy it. To create only for beauty’s sake?”

He speared her with those deep cobalt eyes. “No,” he said. “Because I’d read your journal, and I knew that beauty serves a purpose. Beauty…saves.”

Oh God. This man was going to break her heart.

He was precious to her. He was beauty, and he was strength.

Not just of body but of heart, and she admired him beyond all words.

How could she not? “Sam,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder and then reaching out and taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together, loving that she finally could.

His hand was large and calloused, but it held no scars.

She turned her hand over so she could see his better, the smooth skin of his knuckles, just a sparse dusting of gold hair—almost the same hue as his skin—long, strong fingers with short, blunt fingernails.

She twisted slightly toward him and raised her other hand, using a finger to smooth the tiny golden hairs, enthralled with his odd coloring.

“It wasn’t always like that,” he said.

“Wasn’t always like what?” she asked, bringing her head from his shoulder so she could look at him.

“The color.” He moved his eyes upward. “My hair was dark once. Almost black.”

She frowned. “How did it…I mean…”

“It happened after a treatment and never went back to the way it was. I was thirteen, I think. Or fourteen.” He gave his head a small shake. “I don’t know. Those years blend together.” And by the expression on his face, she could clearly see he meant it in a negative sense.

“What kind of…treatment?”

But Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. At first, I thought it would grow out…or change back…but the years went by, and it never did.” He let out a sigh, gazing back out to the lake, shimmering under the morning sun.

She looked up at his white hair, remembering the first time she’d seen him, how magical and beautiful he’d seemed to her.

And though she knew now he was no dream, she still thought him beautiful, and though perhaps not magical per se, he was extraordinary.

On the whole of the earth, there was only one man like Sam.

And while Autumn didn’t think the world would be worse off with more men just like Sam, she was glad she got the only one.

But he’s not yours. Not really.

Only…yes, he was. Perhaps not to keep. She had no idea what a life with Sam in it would look like or how they could make that a reality.

They faced roadblocks and challenges that she’d pushed to the side because there was nothing else to be done.

But…she wanted it. She wanted Sam in her life.

Not temporarily. Not a dream. Not a memory. But for keeps.

Fear trilled, echoing along her nerves. Don’t think about that. Don’t even consider it. At least not right now. There is still too much to overcome.

But we have this moment. For whatever reason, we’ve been given this moment.

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. Sam looked her way, letting out a soft growl, almost a purr, and there was an answering sound deep inside her that caused no outward noise.

She stood and pulled him to his feet, and Sam followed her back into the house. Back to bed.

They spent several delicious hours there, even though Sam insisted that she tie him up. “What are you worried about?” she asked him.

“Hurting you.”

“You won’t,” she sighed between kisses.

“I might. It’s better this way.”

But was it? She wanted his hands on her too. But she also couldn’t deny that his fear made her nervous as well. So she did as he asked, enjoying him in the ways he allowed.

***

Autumn stretched and yawned before sitting up and rolling her neck on her shoulders. She was getting used to waking up in this bed, even though the expected someone wasn’t currently sleeping beside her.

Outside the window, the sun had already risen.

How late had she slept? She was generally an early bird.

Well, she had performed quite the workout the night before.

She swung her legs over the bed, feeling that now-familiar ache between her thighs.

She started to smile but pressed her lips together instead.

This temporary life they were living in this cottage by the lake was not meant to be enjoyed, not really.

They were hiding out, passing time, on the run so to speak, and yet…

and yet Autumn was also falling in love.

The smile she’d worked to suppress melted into a frown.

Oh, Autumn. Oh, you are a very stupid girl.

Her heart dropped and then floated and then settled somewhere near the place it was supposed to be. She let out a small huff of breath, feeling strangely winded.

Oh, this was terrible. Horrible.

Wonderful.

She loved him. She did. Strange, curious, beautiful, broody Sam.

And there was no fathomable way this was going to work.

She clenched her eyes shut, too many warring emotions to deal with here, where there was nothing to do but wait.

Except…she only had a short time before she had to return to work, and perhaps there was one errand—one bit of research—that could be done safely and discreetly, with little risk. And she needed to talk to Sam about it.

She pulled her sweats on and then left the bedroom, spotting him outside on the deck, looking out over the water like he seemed to love to do. The silky white strands of his hair caught the muted sunlight and glinted both silver and gold. Metallic. Just like much of him.

Autumn pulled on her boots and jacket and went outside.

He must have heard her approaching, but he didn’t turn. She put her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck and kissing his cheek.

He smiled, leaning into her touch, enjoying. Allowing where once he’d all but shrunk away. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late.”

“I didn’t let you sleep. You were snoring. What was I supposed to do?” He smiled as she took the seat next to him and faked a moment of outrage.

“I don’t snore. ”

He started to laugh, then cut it off. “Oh. No, you definitely don’t. That must have been a plane flying overhead.” He squinted up at the silvery sky, pearly rays splitting the clouds.