31. Helen
HELEN
I ended up doing absolutely nothing yesterday. No gym. No camera research. Not a trace of responsible adulthood.
Today is different. Work tends to correct that.
Pepper, the border collie, is a natural. Her bright eyes track every movement, and she gives that thoughtful head tilt right on cue. Her black-and-white coat catches the light cleanly, each contrast crisp through the lens exactly the way I wanted.
“Who’s a good dog? Who’s a good dog?” I ruffle Pepper’s chest coat. She leans into my hands, tail working overtime.
Behind me, Alaska lets out a bark—half jealous, half curious.
“You had your turn,” I call over my shoulder.
Pepper’s owner, Bree from the sanctuary, grins. “Looks like someone’s not thrilled about the new talent.”
“Occupational hazard,” I say, snapping a few final shots.
Alaska barks again, louder.
Then she bolts.
“Alaska!” I straighten, camera bouncing against my ribs as I hurry toward the doorway.
I find her almost airborne with excitement around a man who remains maddeningly composed despite being attacked by twenty pounds of devotion that believes it weighs considerably more.
Liam Hunt and Alaska. My top two, unquestionably. Well—three, if Olivia is counting. And she always is.
The man himself stands there tall, broad through the shoulders, suit cut clean across a frame I know far better than I should. Alaska, meanwhile, is pawing at his trousers with open worship.
“Hey, Hunt!” Bree calls from behind me. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hey, Bree,” he replies, far more at ease than he was in his own office. Apparently, being seen here doesn’t trouble him in the slightest. “Helena and I were just about to go over the volunteer schedule.”
Ah. That explanation arrived suspiciously quickly.
“Perfect,” Bree says. She gives Pepper’s lead a gentle tug, then glances at me. “Thanks for today.”
“We got great shots,” I say, watching her head off down the path.
Alaska settles onto all fours but remains glued to Liam’s side.
“Well, look who wandered in,” I say, leaning against the doorframe, camera strap still looped around my neck.
He walks toward me, and without doing anything his mouth becomes criminally kissable from here. Alaska lunges at his trousers again, apparently convinced that moving legs are an invitation.
Oh yeah—those legs. I know their strength underneath that fabric. I’ve felt them braced on either side of me.
“You shouldn’t have asked me like that,” he says.
“Like what?”
He glances toward the street, sidestepping the question, then looks back at me. “What are you doing today?”
I fold my arms, steering us back where I want us. “It was a lunch invitation, and the way I asked you was completely reasonable.”
His gaze drops to the camera resting against my stomach. He reaches out, steadying it with his fingertips.
“What do you know about cameras?” I ask.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why are you touching it?”
He shifts his focus to Alaska, who has now decided his shoes are deeply compelling.
“You remember I told you about Bella?” he says, still looking down. “She was the most perceptive dog I’ve had. People sometimes thought she was overzealous, but she always knew what I was trying not to show.”
“Sounds familiar.” I tip my chin toward Alaska.
He crouches, rubbing my dog’s belly until she’s a puddle of limbs and bliss. Then he looks up and extends his hand to me, palm open. I take it and pull, though he barely needs the assistance.
“So,” I say as he rises, “what are you trying not to show right now?”
A corner of his mouth twitches. “That I came here without thinking about the fallout.”
“You hid it well.”
“Didn’t I?”
“Hey,” I venture. “You want to go into the city?”
He throws his arms out to the sides. “I’m yours.”
Alaska barks approvingly.
I step into his space. Being near him feels good.
My hands slide up the front of his coat.
His palms settle at my waist like they’ve been there before, like they know the shape.
The kiss starts slow, then deepens. When his tongue traces mine, my chest is full, and breathing feels like an afterthought.
He sighs against my mouth.
“You just can’t resist me, can you?” I murmur.
“You’re my weakness, Hellion,” he says. “Try not to exploit it.”
I smile against his lips. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He actually laughs, loose and genuine.
After apologizing to Alaska and leaving her inside the main house—free to roam, water bowl full, every comfort accounted for—we head out. Where we’re going isn’t pet friendly.
The drive into the city is easy. With the windows down, I tell Liam about frame rates and dynamic range, and how autofocus tracking is basically my love language. He listens without pretending to understand.
“You talk about cameras the way Max talks about hotels full of friendly robots,” he says.
The image doesn’t compute. “What?”
“Besides being the other half of Hunt & Hunt, he runs hotel chains. High-tech ones. The flagship is MX Horizon. Think Star Wars, with royal penthouse service.”
“Really? I’d love to stay in one.” Though it occurs to me I’m not typically the clientele.
“I’ll speak to him. It’s worth the experience, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate an honest review,” Liam says. “Would you prefer somewhere local? Or are you open to a mild detour…like Monaco?”
“Wow. I don’t have an answer right now.”
“No rush,” he says easily. “Though I must warn you, technology has its moments.”
I laugh, then circle back to my own dilemma. “How about we solve today’s problem first? I’ve narrowed it down to three camera bodies. But there’s one I really want.”
He glances at me. “And?”
“It’s…expensive,” I say. “Actually, forget that part.”
We pull up near my usual camera shop. My hand goes to the door handle.
“Not here.” His touch stops me.
“Excuse me?”
“I know another place.”
“You said you knew nothing about cameras.”
“I didn’t say camera shops.”
Before I can argue, he pulls back into traffic.
Ten minutes later, we stop outside a boutique I’ve only ever looked at through the window. The signage is minimal, and there are no prices anywhere because here, you simply don’t ask.
Inside, it’s quiet. Glass cases run the length of the room, not a fingerprint in sight.
And there it is.
The top-tier body I’ve been stalking online though never serious. The one I told myself was irresponsible.
“You’re kidding,” I breathe.
Liam isn’t looking at the camera. He’s watching me. “I thought you might want to see it properly.”
I turn to him slowly. “You said you knew nothing.”
“I don’t,” he says. “But I know when someone talks about something like it matters.”
I pivot to the other display and ask the sales associate about a more sensible model. He launches into the camera’s superior low-light performance. I nod along.
Liam steps closer to the glass. “This one,” he says, indicating the body I’d been pretending not to obsess over. “What’s the lead time?”
The man brightens instantly. “Excellent choice. We just received a limited shipment. This is top tier.” He lifts it from the case and places it carefully in my hands. “Full-frame stacked sensor, blackout-free shooting, advanced subject detection—perfect for animal work.”
It settles into my grip like it was designed for me. Responsive. Balanced. Ominous.
The associate continues, mentioning priority servicing and extended coverage.
Liam glances at me. “We’ll take it.”
I turn so quickly my hair brushes his coat. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” I repeat, quieter but firmer. I place the camera back onto the velvet tray before my hands forget themselves. “You absolutely will not.”
The associate looks between us with diplomatic interest.
“Give us a minute?” Liam says smoothly.
We step aside toward a display of tripods in the far corner of the shop.
I fold my arms. “Don’t.”
He reaches for my hand instead of arguing. “It’s a tool,” he says. “You need it.”
“I want it,” I correct. “There’s a difference.”
“There is,” he agrees. “But you’ll use it. You’ll grow into it. And it will pay for itself.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to buy it.”
He studies me for a moment, then nods. “All right,” he says. “I won’t pay for it.”
I should say ‘Good’ because I win the argument, but suspicion flickers. “Liam—”
“How about you consider it a loan,” he continues. “If you don’t want to accept a gift.”
That camera would change my workflow entirely. I could shoot movement without compromise. I could deliver work that makes more agencies notice.
And I would pay him back. Every cent.
I exhale slowly. “Okay. A loan. Repayment one thou—”
“We’ll sort that out later,” he says, brushing a finger against my lips.
God. That might be the most persuasive finger-to-lip gesture in recorded history.
“It’ll be fair,” he adds. “And no interest, before you ask.”
I was going to ask. But the edge inside me eases. “Fine. I’ll pay you back. Properly.”
“I know you will.”
We walk back to the counter.
Paperwork happens quickly when Liam Hunt is involved. I barely register the details because the camera box is placed into my hands. It’s lighter than my old one, but it feels more…substantial.
I cradle it like it’s alive.
“The burst rate alone,” I start, “is going to save me hours. And the subject detection—it can lock onto animal eyes even mid-jump. And the color depth—God, the files are going to be so clean.”
Liam listens as he drives, until I catch myself.
“Sorry,” I say, flushing. “I’m boring you. I’m just…excited.”
“I’m glad.”
The simple sincerity in it makes my stomach flip.
“Dinner tonight?” I ask, buoyed by courage and a new camera high.
His expression shifts—not evasive, just practical. “I’m sorry. I can’t. And I’m not making excuses. I’ve got a flight to catch.”
“Huh.” I tilt my head. “The peril of dating a billionaire?”
He lets out a soft laugh. “I helped you get a camera and we’re dating?”
“We played the Game,” I counter. “And you claimed me.”
For a split second, he looks like he might agree. Like he might step into that word fully. Instead, he says, “You made your choice, Hellion.”
I straighten. “Point taken.”
There’s no sting. Just a reminder. I chose to step into his world. He didn’t drag me there.
“Will I see you again?” I ask when we arrive at my home.
“You know where I am,” he says. “And I’ve got a feeling you’ll make sure I see you again.”
I bend closer and steal a kiss before he can regain control of the moment. It’s quick but warm.
“Good answer,” I say, my hand still curling briefly into the lapel of his coat. I kiss him one more time then get out of the car.
He drives away.
For a moment, I stand on the sidewalk holding my impossible camera and grinning like a kid with a new toy.
My phone starts ringing in my pocket. Above me, Alaska begins barking behind the main door at the top of the stoop.
Right. Priorities.
Secure the forty-grand camera. I duck down the side path, unlock the studio entrance, and set it carefully on the worktable. The idea of leaving it unattended already makes me uneasy. If cameras came with baby monitors, this one would be switched on.
I answer the call “Hey, Via,” then hurry to Alaska.
The moment I open the main door, Alaska barrels out like she’s been wronged for hours.
“Leany! Why does Alaska sound like she’s scolding someone?”
“We left her inside while we went into the city.”
I guide Alaska down toward the studio.
“We?” Olivia says. “Oh wow. You and Anna went shopping?”
I snort. “You wish.”
She whistles, long and low. “So…we as in we?”
“A friend,” I say.
She hums. “You’re in love.”
“What on earth?”
“I’m serious.”
“I am not in love,” I reply, stepping around Alaska as she circles my legs. “I bought a camera.”
“That’s not a denial,” she says calmly.
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see it. “You said I was in love with Victor. Look where that got us.”
“This is different,” she insists. “With Victor you sounded…convinced. Now you sound surprised.”
That makes me pause.
“I am not in love,” I insist.
“Mm-hmm.”
“And even if I were, I would not be admitting it to you when—”
When I’ve just walked through a boutique with a man who treats a photographer’s fortune like pocket change.
She laughs. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Speaking of which, I’m coming down for the break.”
My heart leaps. “You’re serious?”
“Very. And I expect to meet this mysterious man who’s clearly hijacked your limbic system.”
“He has not hijacked anything.”
“Of course. My mistake. So, hot date this weekend?”
“No. He’s away.”
“Tragic,” she says lightly. “All right. I’ve got to run. Call me.”
I look down at the camera on the table.
New gear. New chapter. A billionaire flying somewhere important, and my sister on her way. Whatever this is with Liam, it doesn’t feel temporary anymore.