“What?” I look between her and the box. “No, I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?” She crinkles her nose in a way that is simply adorable, reminding me once again of my mistake last night. “For what?”

Is she serious?

“For ravaging you like a teenager. For taking advantage of you—”

“Advantage?” She gets up from her desk. “Did you forget I was almost dry humping you?”

I close my eyes, and all I can think about is that moment.

Us, in the back seat of the car. It definitely didn’t feel like she wasn’t interested—

She was drunk, you asshole!

“Autumn, we were both drunk. We didn’t know what we were doing. It happens.” I try to ignore my racing heartbeat and shrug as if it’s no big fucking deal.

“So you’re telling me it happens that you end up in the back seat of a car, dry humping some random girl?” Her lips purse. Her hands curl into fists as if she’s just imagined me in that inopportune situation.

“Do you really think I’d do that?” My gaze locks with hers, angry and irritated that she’d even ask this.

“I don’t and that’s why I don’t understand why would you say something like this.” She shakes her head, the scowl on her face staying in place. “You’re trying to make me believe that what happened was…dirty and wrong. Why?”

I’m sent back into another spin down Guilt Lane and heave a sigh, trying to take the bitterness I feel for myself out of my voice. “Autumn, listen to me. I’m sorry for making you feel shitty. Maybe what happened wasn’t dirty, but it was wrong.”

But she doesn’t listen. Instead, she rocks me with her next words. “Have you been with anyone since we got married?”

There are very few moments when I’m tongue-tied, but this is definitely one of them. My brain struggles with the image of my young bride and this feisty girl before me being the same person.

I can’t believe she’s unnerving me so easily. I was a Navy SEAL for God’s sake. I’ve dodged bigger bullets than this. “There’s no point to that question.”

“Who says that?” She circles her desk and stops before me. When she tugs a strand of her silky hair behind her ear, I notice the red-orange maple leaf earrings.

She takes a step forward, and I’m forced to step back.

“Autumn.” I bring my hands between us as if shielding myself from whatever sorcery she’s trying to weave, and it does the trick. Her confidence slips a bit, and I take that opportunity and ask, “What are you doing?”

She looks at me under her lashes, then squares back her shoulders. “I want to know what would have happened if the driver hadn’t stopped the car outside the inn.”