Chapter 5
Colt
“And this is the main kitchen,” I say, gesturing to the vast space with its gleaming stainless-steel appliances. “It’s been modernized, but we’ve kept many of the original features.”
Autumn runs her hand along the marble countertop, her gaze roaming, taking in every last corner.
It’s second nature to her—piecing together bits of information as if the truth can’t hide from her for long.
“This place is incredible, Colt,” she says, turning to face me. “I can’t believe how well-preserved everything is.”
I nod, my expression neutral. We’ve been at this for hours now, and her enthusiasm hasn’t dimmed. I can’t tear my eyes from Autumn’s swaying hips and how her hair catches the light.
Spending time with her is getting tougher by the minute. Having her so close, watching her explore every corner of my family’s legacy, stirs something in me I’m not ready to face.
My mind flashes to last night—her opening the door, fresh from the shower, only wearing a robe. That image of her damp hair on her neck is seared into my brain.
Was lowering my defenses and letting her in wise?
This tour was supposed to bore her, kill her story. Instead, I’m losing focus. I clear my throat. “This is it. The tour’s over.”
Autumn’s eyes keep moving until her gaze locks on the old wooden door in the kitchen corner. “What about that? Where does it lead?”
“The basement. It’s filled with a bunch of old junk and cobwebs. Nothing exciting down there.”
Her eyes light up. Shit. I’ve made the basement sound interesting, exactly what I was trying to avoid.
“Old house basements always have stories,” she says, a gleam in her eye. “There’s got to be something down there worth exploring. Maybe some hidden family secrets?”
“It’s not safe,” I say firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. “Old. Unstable. It’s off-limits for a reason.”
She raises an eyebrow, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Worried about me, Colt Montgomery? I didn’t think you cared.”
“It’s my job to keep people safe. And that includes stubborn reporters who don’t know when to quit.”
She grins. “That’s right! I never quit. I knew you’d ‘get me’ eventually.”
She’s pressing my buttons to get a reaction. I’ve faced hardened criminals who couldn’t break me, yet she effortlessly disarms me with her charm.
How much longer can I hold out?
I exhale in defeat. “This way.”
I find the familiar latch and click open the old door. We descend into the cool, vaulted wine cellar.
“There isn’t much to see,” I explain, motioning to the dusty shelves and mostly empty wine racks.
Autumn peers into the darkness beyond the shelves. “Where does that lead?”
“Nowhere interesting. Old passageways crisscrossing the grounds. But the tunnels aren’t used for anything these days.” She doesn’t need to know more than that. Besides, the place is a mess.
“Secret tunnels?” Her voice practically sings with excitement, and she moves forward instinctively. “Can we check it out?”
“No,” I snap, sharper than I meant to, holding her back. “It isn’t safe.”
She turns toward me, one brow arched, looking adorably defiant. “If it’s that dangerous, why haven’t you fixed it? Or is there something you don’t want me to find?”
Her persistent tone always stirs something in me—half irritation, half admiration, and all trouble.
Still, I meet her challenge head-on. “This isn’t about hiding things from you. It’s about keeping you safe.”
Her lips quirk, amused. “Then show me. You said you’d help. We can’t stop when things get interesting now.”
I should tell her to back off, but who am I kidding? She’s got me wrapped around her finger. Damn it. I exhale. Surrender is inevitable. “Fine. But stick close, and we’re not going deep. Clear?”
She nods, excitement lighting up her eyes despite my grave tone.
The door creaks open. A dank, narrow passage yawns ahead, the air thick with dust and the weight of forgotten secrets. Autumn’s curiosity buzzes beside me—irritating, endearing, and impossible to ignore.
“Watch your step,” I growl, keeping her within arm’s reach. “The place isn’t exactly up to code.”
I taste dust with each breath as it coats my throat. Autumn scans our surroundings, and I can’t help but admire her tenacity. She’s like a bloodhound on a scent.
“So,” she starts, her voice quieter now, “this is where the Montgomery family kept all their skeletons?”
I grunt, fighting the pull she exerts on me. “More like where we hid barrels of booze during Prohibition.”
“A smuggling operation then?” she presses, her excitement palpable.
“Call it ancient history,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Before I can stop her, she moves past me. The woman’s relentless. “You don’t let up, do you?” I catch her elbow, carefully tugging her back.
“You’re hiding something.” She’s not asking; she’s accusing.
“I’m showing you parts of this place no one has stepped foot in for decades,” I grit out. “Isn’t that enough?”
She tilts her head up, her chin too damn stubborn for her own good, meeting my glare without flinching. “Then show me,” she whispers.
I don’t know if she means the tunnels or something else—and I don’t care. And as ever, no matter how frustrating she is, I feel it—the fucking draw toward her.
“Damn it, Autumn.” The words slip out, low and rough.
Her expression softens just a little, but that gleam in her eyes? Still there—the same fiery resolve that pulled me to her the second she walked into my house.
It gnaws at me, that reckless part she’s unlocked without even knowing.
Before I can say anything more, a soft groan echoes through the tunnel walls. Autumn’s eyes widen, her defiance replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.
“Did you hear that?” she asks, but she’s not teasing this time.
“I did.” Stepping around her, I take the lead, keeping her close. “Stay behind me,” I mutter, pulling her forward a few steps, eyes scanning the narrow space ahead.
Ahead of us, barely visible in the gloom, is a rusted iron lattice blocking the path.
“What is it?” Autumn asks, her earlier bravado subdued.
“Stop.” I grit out the word, grabbing her arm as she inches toward the lattice. “These old mechanisms are ancient—and unstable.”
Of course, she doesn’t listen. “This is incredible. How does it work?”
Her fingers barely graze the metal, and a deep, ominous groan echoes through the walls. Everything freezes and then erupts. The ground trembles beneath us, dust raining from the ceiling.
“Get back!” I bellow, lunging for her.
Everything unfolds in a blur—the lattice drops with a thunderous crash. Autumn stumbles, a cry escaping her as the iron lattice begins to fall, pulling parts of the walls down.
The ground trembles beneath us, dislodging pieces of stone and debris.
I grab her arm, keeping a death grip on her, moving her back to safety as pieces of lattice clatter down hard. We race to safety as chunks of ceiling collapse around us. Finally, we’re on the other side of the door.
Although we’re safe, that was close. Far too fucking close. I crush her to me, gripping hard enough to hurt, needing to feel her alive.
All I can hear is my pulse thundering in my ears and Autumn’s ragged breathing. She shakes in my arms, her body flush against mine.
“You okay?” I demand, glancing at her face. Calculated, steady. But I need to hear her answer.
She nods quickly, but her usual bluster is gone for now. Without the fire in her words, I hear the quiet apology in her voice. “I didn’t mean to push?—“
I cut in, low and stern. “You nearly got yourself flattened.”
That hard-headed look she gives me doesn’t help, but I can’t shake the emotions roiling under the surface. It’s almost funny how small she is next to me, considering how completely she takes up space in my head.
The near miss, the weight of her body pressed against mine, reminding me how close I was to her being gone.
She tilts her chin, a mix of defiance and vulnerability in her eyes. “Why do you even care?”
I release a low growl, moving her even closer, my boundaries shot. “Because with you, I can’t stop myself. Apparently.”
And just like that, I’m kissing her.
It’s not gentle. It’s fast, all desperation and heat. Goddamn it, she feels good. My hand tangles in her hair, pulling her even closer, kissing her hard enough that everything I’ve pushed away, the things I’ve denied myself all these years, come surging up.
Autumn moans against my lips, her hands grabbing my shirt, winding the fabric tight in her fists as if she’s just as desperate—for what, I don’t know. But she matches me, intense and unafraid. As always.
The connection between us burns—a line blurred and crossed, and I know nothing will be the same after this.
We pull apart, both breathing hard. I meet her gaze, filled with silent questions when another creaking sound makes us freeze.
The danger isn’t over.
“We need to move,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Stay close to me.”
This time, she nods without hesitation.
We hurry through the tunnels, every sound making my grip tighten on hers. Each step feels like it could be our last—the entire structure seems precarious.
We finally round the last corner, where the dim light from the house beyond offers relief. But even then, I don’t let myself relax. Not until we stumble into the hallway. Even then, I don’t release her hand.
“Colt,” Autumn starts, her voice shaky but strong. “What just happened?—?”
“Not here.” I cut her off.
I lead her quickly to my private study, locking the door behind us.
She sinks into a chair, dusting herself off. “Are you going to explain this, or?—?”
I sit across from her, glancing at the floor. It’s time to admit my ignorance.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” I say, my words sharper than I mean. “But something’s not right here.”
She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest, staring me down. “What do you mean?”
I shrug, rubbing my temples. “I left all this behind when I enlisted. I never cared much for the house—or anything it carried. Let my mom handle the estate while I focused on the MC. But... something’s not right.”
She doesn’t interrupt, just listens, eyes locked on me.
“These accidents,” I continue, “They’re not random. But I don’t know why they’re happening.” I stare at the desk blotter, willing the confusion in my head to settle.
Autumn takes a breath before standing to face me. “So, you need my help. Am I right?”
I nod slowly. “I don’t have all the answers. But I think we can find them.”
She crosses her arms. “No more secrets.”
“And what about... this?” she whispers, gesturing between us.
I cup her face, my thumb tracing her lower lip. “This,” I murmur, “is not part of the plan. But I’m done fighting it.”
As I capture her lips in another searing kiss, I know we’re stepping into uncharted territory. Danger, secrets, and a connection neither of us expected.
I break the kiss, resting my forehead against hers. “I need you to move in here, to The Manor.”
Autumn pulls back, surprise written across her face. “What? Why?”
For a long second, I stare down at her. One way or another, I’m going to ensure nothing touches her, be it the house’s ghosts or whatever—whoever—caused the mess in the hall.
“Until we figure out what’s going on, I need to know you’re safe,” I say, my jaw clenching at the memory of her almost being wiped out in the tunnel. “I need you within reach. And Autumn,” I add before she can even think to argue, “I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”
She blinks, lips parted, shocked into silence for once.
Finally, a small, resigned smile tugs at her lips. “Why are you so bossy?”
I growl softly. “I’m not bossy. I’m protective.”
She glares at me but doesn’t say a word, just keeps breathing deeply, the fire in her gaze fading into something quieter.
We were so close to disaster. That makes something desperate crawl into my chest. I can no longer push her away.
“Because I can’t stop myself when it comes to you,” I murmur, the words slipping out faster than I intended.
I lean down and kiss her again, slower this time, letting the sharp edge of fear dissolve as the warmth between us takes over.
The connection between us burns—a line blurred and crossed, and I know nothing will be the same after this.