Chapter Two
Autumn
I really need to organise this desk. I keep saying it every day, but I still don’t have the time or courage. Notebooks, sticky notes, pens, and pictures are everywhere. My apartment is tidy, everything in its place, except this damn desk that looks like a storm hit it.
It’s raining outside, cloudy and cold, perfect for tea and editing. Most people chase beaches and sun, but rain makes me happy. Mountains, mist, storms—those are mine. I wrap my hands around the mug and breathe in the warmth.
I’ve been here six months. Before that, a cheap motel for three, waiting for work to pick up. Weddings, baptisms, baby showers, small jobs, but they paid enough for this rented apartment. Not the fanciest part of the city, but cosy.
I glance at the lock on my door, the habit too hard to break, then shake my head. He hasn’t found me here yet, not during the six months I’ve lived here.
The computer dings with an email from Viviana Callaghan.
We met when she needed pictures for a client’s website, fancy but inviting.
She found me online, liked my work and offered me a spot as her associate.
The Callaghans are well connected and old money, and I was thrilled.
They’ve been kind and welcoming. Viviana especially.
She’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve made in this city.
Viviana replied to my email with the new shots for the hotel she’s been working with; the owner loved them. Great, one less stress. I love what I do, but I still get anxious until I get some feedback. Now I need to get ready for the next photoshoot.
A new stylist in town wants to vamp up his website and make it match his clothing, industrial chic—that’s what he calls it—and that’s the vibe we’re going for. Viviana says she has ideas, and I can’t wait to hear them.
One last sip of tea and I’m out the door. My car is parked in a nearby lot; the rain clings to my hair, my ponytail soaking, and it feels like it’s washing all my stress away.
The drive is calm; the radio plays folk songs I’ve never heard before, but they match the day perfectly.
The Callaghan mansion looms ahead: tall walls and steel gates, the house itself near the lake.
For some reason Declan seems traumatised by it and never likes Viviana walking too close to the place.
I stop at the gate. James, the security guard, already knows me, but he always walks around my car and peeks in the backseat. I get it; there’s a lot of money in this family, and they’ve probably had scares over the years.
“You can go, Autumn,” he says with a rough smile. Like everyone here, polite, but they look like they could invade a small country.
Even Declan and his brothers, always in tailored suits, all tall and massive, with mean faces, are becoming familiar to me.
It took a while. I don’t really vibe with grumpiness, but Viviana showed me how real they are, and the way Declan melts whenever he’s near Viviana proved they aren’t as bad as they look.
I park near the front door and grab my bag and laptop to take notes for the next project.
“Autumn!” Viviana chirps, all smiles.
“Vi, hi!” I walk to her, and we hug. We have a close relationship; she’s not only my boss, she’s my friend. Her best friend Selma left a couple of months after the wedding, and we have become closer ever since.
“Mackellan Hugh.”
I stop and look at her. “Mac who?”
She laughs and shakes her head, her black hair loose on her shoulders.
She’s gorgeous, almost always in black, but never too much—jeans, a shirt or sweater, no makeup.
She’s taller than me, though at five-three, that isn’t difficult.
Kian, Declan’s brother, jokes we couldn’t be more opposite: her raven hair against my chocolate brown, her black clothes against my earthy tones.
Maybe that’s why we connected so easily.
On the outside we’re different, but our minds and principles line up perfectly.
“He’s amazing. His clothes are gorgeous and so different.” Viviana walks into her office, which sits right next to Declan’s.
“Hey, Autumn.” Declan’s voice carries from the hallway and makes me jump.
“Shit, sorry. I forget you’re jumpy.” He smiles, and I laugh it off.
“Hi, Declan.”
Well, being stalked for years makes you jumpy, but they don’t need to know that part of my life. That’s behind me. I just want to live without fear now.
“I’m leaving, firecracker. I’ve got some things to deal with with Flynn.” Declan leans in, kisses Viviana softly, then slaps her backside.
I wish I could find a love like this, the way he looks at her, the way he moves when she’s near. He only has eyes for her. I wonder if it was love at first sight for them both, because Viviana melts into him every single time, and it’s the most adorable thing.
Declan leaves, and I hear his brothers outside as the bikes roar to life and they drive off.
“So Mac—” I stop and look at her. “What’s the name again?”
She laughs. “Jesus, girl, you’ve got the memory of Dory.”
“I know!” I say dramatically as we walk into her office, and I slump on the little couch in the corner.
“Mackellan Hugh.” She settles at her desk and turns her monitor towards me. The designs are mostly in grey, black and white, with hints of red. Long skirts, wide belts, some kind of leather corsets.
“They’re beautiful.” I can’t stop staring. He’s talented, that’s for sure. “But the pictures are awful.” I bite my lip, already imagining how to make those pieces the stars.
“Right? He said we could do whatever we wanted.” Viviana leans back in her chair. “So what do you think?”
I look at the clothes: the black, the leather, the red. There’s a hint of BDSM about them, but fancier. Tilting my head, ideas rush in. I stand, start pacing, close my eyes.
“Dark walls, red lights, big couches, glass, mirrors.” I can’t keep still, and Viviana hums in approval. “A place with a dark, industrial vibe, iron and concrete on display.” I open my eyes; she’s squinting at me.
“Oh!” She snatches up her phone and dials.
“Declan, babe, sorry to bother your…work.” She gives me a sly smile. “I need a favour, please.” Her voice melts into honey. “Can you ask Flynn if I can use his club, Teine, for a photoshoot?”
Declan says something, and Viviana thanks him. “Love you.” She hangs up and looks at me; her eyes widen. “You’re blushing.”
“What?” I turn to the mirror on her wall. “No, I am not.” But I am, damn it.
“Flynn’s club, Teine, is perfect. It has the exact vibe you just described.” She turns back to her computer and starts typing.
My legs go a little wobbly. Flynn Brady.
There is something about him that makes me blush every single time.
He’s as tall as Declan, broad, with tattoos that peek from under his sleeves on those very expensive tailored suits.
He’s always polite but seems to keep his distance from me; I don’t think he likes me much.
I’m not the kind of woman he’s used to being around.
“Are you hearing me?” Viviana snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Yes, sorry.” I look up; her monitor faces me again with pictures of the nightclub.
“See: leather couches, red walls, steel pipes and concrete beams.” She keeps scrolling. Damn it, she’s right; the club is perfect.
“The stylist only has the models tomorrow for three hours. Can you do it?” She turns the monitor back to her and keeps typing.
“Yes, no problem. I have the hotel shoot, but that’s at sunset to catch the view.” I unlock my phone and check my diary.
“Oh shit, you’ll have to go without me, Autumn. I’ve got a meeting for that new restaurant by the docks.” She leans toward the screen, annoyed she can’t come. “You don’t mind, right? You already know Flynn.”
I stare, trying to hide the shock. “You can’t come? Can’t we do it another day?”
She shakes her head. “Unfortunately it’s urgent. There’s an event this weekend, and he got a last-minute slot, so he needs the pictures ready so the new collection is live on the site.”
Oh, damn it.
I nod, but I see the amusement on her face and roll my eyes. “You know I’m not comfortable around men, especially men like…” I wave my hand.
“Flynn? Declan? Kian?” she teases with a big grin.
“Yes, exactly like that: grumpy and mean-looking.” I bite my lip; the thought of hours in a club owned by Flynn makes my skin prickle.
“Well, I promise he won’t bite…much.” She laughs, leaning over her desk.
“Thanks for that.” I slump back on the couch. “It’s fine; he probably won’t even be there.”
She stops laughing and stares at me. Her mouth opens, then she turns back to the computer as though she was going to say something and stopped herself.
“What?” I ask, leaning in and tugging her arm.
“Nothing, but I’ll bet Flynn will be there. He—” She pauses and locks eyes with me.
“He what, Viviana?” I lean closer; my breathing speeds up.
“He likes you.” She says it softly, and I burst out laughing.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “What the hell, Autumn?”
“No, no—I’m sorry.” I can’t stop laughing. “Flynn? Likes me?” I keep laughing, clutching my stomach to stop my muscles from spasming. “He barely says a word to me.” I wipe at my eyes. Viviana just keeps staring.
“We’ll see who’s right.” She shrugs and leans back, still watching me.
“I doubt a man like Flynn… he is what, thirty-six? Rich, gorgeous, would like a twenty-four-year-old virgin photographer.”
“Virgin?” Viviana stands up, and I freeze. Oops. It slipped out.
“Hmm, yeah.” My face goes hot, sweat prickling my palms. “I just never had the opportunity. It’s not that important.”
Viviana looks at me like I’m breakable, like I’m in danger. “Autumn. I shouldn’t have made all those sex jokes! Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
I laugh nervously. “Seriously, it’s fine. It’s not like I don’t know what sex is, or that I’ve never seen a naked man.” I shrug as best I can.
Her eyes soften. “I think you’re doing it right. Wait for the special one.” She smiles kindly.
I nod, but the truth is, I had a stalker from the age of eighteen.
I never knew who it was. Every time a man got close, threats followed.
They all ran. After a few years I stopped worrying about being a virgin and focused on making my life safe and steady.
Nine months here, and no messages. That silence feels like a gift.
“I won’t say a thing.” Viviana says and gives me a soft smile.
“I know, I trust you.” I nod, and we continue with the arrangements for tomorrow.
Viviana walks me to my car. She doesn’t push or say more about what slipped out, and I’m so thankful.
I wave her goodbye and slide into the driver’s seat, cheeks still burning. My hands grip the wheel too tightly, and I groan at my reflection in the rearview mirror. “What the hell was that?” I mutter. Who blurts out ‘I’m a virgin!’ like that? Me, apparently. Brilliant.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, shoulders sinking, and let out a half-laugh, half-whine. “Well done, Autumn. Next time maybe announce it over a loudspeaker.”
Flynn. Of all people. How can she think he’d ever take a second look at me?
The radio plays soft music. The rain has slowed by the time I pull into my street, park and hurry inside, still shaking my head, still replaying the scene like a bad comedy sketch. My cheeks heat all over again.
Jesus, that was stupid.
I turn the taps on and drop in a lavender and citrus bath bomb, scatter a few dried herbs, and light a rose-scented candle.
Steam curls around me as I slip into the warmth.
The water cradles me, heat loosening every knot.
I rest my head against the edge of the tub, close my eyes and breathe out long, steady breaths.
The scent of lavender fills the room, sweet and calming, wrapping around me like a blanket.
My body finally begins to relax, sinking deeper, almost floating.
This is what I need. My sanctuary. Where the world is quiet.
Then, uninvited, the image of him slides into my mind. Flynn Brady. Honey-blond hair, green eyes, that hint of mischief buried in the sharpness.
I open my eyes and groan. “Damn it, Viviana.”
Now she’s put him in my head in a way I can’t shake. I sink lower into the water, letting the heat soak into my bones, trying to wash him out with steam. He probably won’t even let us take pictures there. I need to stop imagining things that will never happen.
My breathing steadies. The oils make my skin soft, the warmth lulls me into almost-sleep, my lashes heavy.
Then my phone vibrates against the counter, and I jolt upright, water sloshing.
My chest tightens. I never leave the sound on, not since the stalker.
That was always how he reached me, even after changing numbers again and again.
I pick it up with a shaking hand, relief pouring through me when I see Viviana’s name.
Flynn said yes. Tomorrow at two, I’ll send you the address.
Shoot.
This is really happening. Four hours in Flynn Brady’s club, with him there. And now Viviana’s words echo in my mind, making it worse. My thoughts twist. What if—
No. There’s no way. But the idea of Flynn, that massive man, taking my virginity… my whole body stirs at the thought. Would he be gentle? Or rough?
My thighs press together instantly, skin prickling. Heat swells under my cheeks again. I shake my head, sinking lower into the bathwater as though it can drown the images. He would never touch me if he knew I was a virgin. He’d run.
Unfortunately.