Page 3

Two

Pumpkin Spice

Emryn

I barely get through the door before my makeshift bed, a.k.a.

my sleeping bag, calls to me. It’s been a long day!

The wedding I’d been driving back from was a hit, and being the photographer meant that I had to try to capture all the special moments of the couple’s day.

We did plenty of posed photos to please the parents, but the bride and groom hired me because they wanted to capture the true essence of their wedding and the fun pics with their guests laughing and dancing.

I did all that, but what I’m most proud of is the tender moments, like when the groom wiped a tear from his bride’s eye when they were first announced as husband and wife, and the look of joy on her face as he kissed her hand before slipping the wedding band on her finger.

The day was filled with these memories, and I wanted them to have them all. The last thing I expected was a flat tire on the way home. My feet hurt, and I was tired and achy from carrying all the equipment around on my own. I can’t afford an assistant. Yet! But that’s my hope, that soon I will.

My parents wanted an artist, and they got a family-and-special-occasion photographer.

They think it’s too “common.” Mom’s word, not mine.

I love my job. Sharing special moments with a family, a couple, new parents, or whatever may come is a gift.

My father would have preferred I were on the other side of the camera, but I’m not a tall, willowy waif who would be a perfect model.

I used to wish I were, because models are graceful and elegant, and regal like swans.

I am none of that. How my dad could be upset that I’m barely five feet four inches, with brown eyes and brown hair, is beyond me. I didn’t choose my gene pool.

Now, my brother Ryan is the epitome of a male model.

He started modeling at fourteen and has had a successful career.

Unfortunately, you can’t stop the aging process, and as he’s getting older, other younger men are climbing the ranks.

This isn’t going over well with my big brother, and he’s having trouble adjusting to the inevitable change.

Ryan’s floundering, trying to find himself and decide what to do next in his life.

It doesn’t help that Boy Wonder, who is the apple of my parents’ eye, is embracing his sulking nature and turning off even the closest connections he’s made in the modeling world.

My parents have always given Ryan anything he’s ever wanted and have turned him into a spoiled brat.

I love my big brother, but he’s made life extremely difficult for me for the last several years, and part of the reason I’m moving away is to distance myself from my family. I love my parents, but most of the time, it’s like they only have one child and not two.

It almost takes too much energy to get undressed, but I manage and slip into my sleeping bag, throwing an extra blanket overtop of me.

As I drift off, Blade’s warm smile fills my thoughts.

When he first dismounted from his motorcycle, he looked dangerous, and instinctively, I reached for the closest weapon I could find.

I must have looked ridiculous holding a tire iron in my hand.

But he didn’t laugh at me and seemed to understand why I did it.

His eyes were as blue as the sky. And his strong jaw and features would have rivaled my brother’s for the cover of Vogue . His wavy, golden-blond hair made me want to run my fingers through its soft thickness. I curbed my desire and instead focused on the dilemma at hand.

Blade got me home safe, with the promise of having my car ready by Monday in plenty of time for my next shoot on Tuesday evening. I’m doing a starry-night engagement photo session for a couple. If all goes well, I’ll be booking another wedding, and that’s where the big money is.

Launching my business has been hard work, but it’s all I ever wanted.

I’ve done really well throughout the summer months with weddings, and I’m filling up my calendar with baby photos, family photo shoots, and anything else I can get my hands on.

I’m not afraid of hard work, and if need be, I’ll get a part-time job to supplement my income until I can make photography my full-time gig.

My eyes drift closed, but with the final picture of Blade sitting on his motorcycle with that sexy smile that makes me swoon. I wish I’d taken a photo of him.

S ometimes the best photos happen when you’re just walking around and taking in the atmosphere.

Sunday morning church bells begin to ring, and people gather outside.

Some rush off to their cars and on to their next stop, others hang around chatting, while the kids play tag.

I aim my camera and begin shooting. I take photos of the church steeple, watching the old-fashioned bell sway back and forth.

Then, I aim at those gathering, men and women huddled together, smiling and joking with one another, trying to capture the beauty of people meeting and uniting.

The children are the best subjects of all.

A child’s laugh is a song, and getting that to show on film is an art in itself.

A little girl with cherub cheeks, dressed in a pretty blue dress with daisies on it, tugs on what I assume is her older brother’s hand to push her on the swing.

The older sibling acquiesces immediately, being careful not to push her too high and keeping his little sister safe.

I take a few more shots, then move on down the street.

People watching is my favorite pastime. I wonder what people are thinking as they go about their day.

While most shops are closed, I notice that Hanna’s is open.

I stop in front of Hanna’s Bakery and look inside at the patrons happily enjoying their delicious desserts.

A teenage couple is sitting together holding hands, and the young man whispers in the girl’s ear, causing her to blush.

At another table, three women are giggling and chatting away with the owner, Hanna.

I met Hanna when I dropped in the first night I was in town and indulged in her chocolate croissant.

Oh my! It was a heaven-filled, light, flaky pastry that turned me into a repeat customer.

I ease on down the street toward Millie’s Diner, which is also open today but is closed on Mondays.

It’s the hub of activity in town, and it seems that Millie’s is the place to go to have the best cup of coffee and a chat with Millie herself.

Today’s my day to discover if all they say about Millie’s Diner is true.

As I near the diner, I notice a bunch of motorcycles in the parking lot.

I glance through the window and see at least half a dozen bikers wearing the same kind of jacket that Blade had on yesterday.

They’ve pulled together three tables and are sitting around having breakfast.

At first glance, the guys look pretty ominous, but they look like they’re having a great time. I enter the diner and find that their voices boom over the others, but an older woman doesn’t have any trouble telling them to “Hush up.”

“Sorry, Millie. We’ll try to keep it down,” one of the men says, giving the woman a wink. Millie tries to hide her grin but doesn’t quite succeed.

“It’s a good thing I love that wife of yours, or I’d give her a run for her money,” Millie teases back.

“I love Ava with my heart and soul. But, Millie, darling, you will always have a special place in my heart,” the man tells her.

“You’re a sweet talker, Guard, and I love you for it,” she says. Then she looks over to the door where I’m standing. “Well, come on in, sweetie. Can’t serve you coffee if you don’t take a seat.”

I move toward her. “Hi, I’m Emryn. I’ve heard that your coffee is the best, and I definitely need a cup.” I’m so proud that I didn’t make a fool of myself, because I know that all the men at the table were staring at me from the moment I said my name.

“A pretty name for a very pretty girl,” Millie replies sweetly. She points to a small table for two in the corner. “How about right there?”

“Thank you,” I murmur, letting her lead me over to the table.

Millie waits for me to take my seat before she whispers, “They don’t bite. They’re good people. Trust me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Oh, I’m sure they are,” I say hurriedly. “One of their members helped me out yesterday when I was stuck on the road with a flat tire.”

Millie tilts her head to one side and asks, “Which one?”

“Blade.”

Millie’s face lights up with a big, bright smile.

“He’s a sweetheart. Excellent mechanic too.

You know that boy comes in here after hours and does some handyman work for me just because.

Never asked him for help, but he comes in and does it anyway.

Won’t take a nickel, but I fill him up with pie, and he’s happy enough with that. ”

It warms me to know that Blade is that kind of man. He’s kind and generous with his time, as he was with me. Helping me out in the middle of the night and seeing me home safe isn’t something a lot of people would do nowadays. Most people don’t want to get involved.

“He seems like a great guy,” I concede, smiling back at her.

“I was expecting him this morning, but I hear he’s at the shop working.”

“Probably on my car,” I say, dropping my gaze. “Blade promised to have it ready for me tomorrow. Now I feel guilty taking him away from his Sunday. If I didn’t have photo shoots, I could have waited, but I really need the money, especially if I’m paying for a new tire.”

“Sweetie, if that boy didn’t want to fix your car today, he wouldn’t do it. Seems to me that he wants to. Maybe you can do me a favor and drop him off a piece of pie,” Millie says.

“Of course. I want to thank him and tell him how much I appreciate him taking a Sunday to get me sorted out,” I reply.

“Good. Now, coffee, and I’ll bring you one of my pumpkin spice scones. You’ll love it!” she exclaims, clasping her hands happily before she leaves me to my thoughts. I look out the window to the street and, most prominently, the shop where Blade is working on my car.

Millie thinks highly of the Satan’s Pride MC and has nothing but lovely things to say about Blade.

The talk around town is that the Pride rejuvenated this town.

It brought back business and has invested in building more businesses in these parts.

They’ve created jobs for the locals, and they treat the people of the town with respect.

Of course, you also hear the more worrisome stories too.

So far, I’ve heard of a stalker going after one of their women, a rival club hoping to shut them down, and some affiliation with a larger organization that people seem too scared to talk about.

The good talk far outweighs the bad, and in all honesty, I’m sure that after I get my car back, the only other time I’ll have a reason to talk to Blade will be when I need a tune-up.

Still, I can’t seem to get over the way Blade looked at me and the way he makes me feel when I’m near him. My skin tingles, my heart beats faster, and I feel like I could look into his big blue eyes for a lifetime.

“Time for church,” I hear the man named Guard say.

He stands, followed by the scraping of chairs against the floor.

I pretend to look around the room and note that the men have all come to their feet and have dropped more than enough cash to pay their bill on the table.

And I mean a ton of cash. There’s no way breakfast would add up to all that.

That’s enough money to feed thirty men. Millie catches them doing this and begins to protest.

“Guard…” she drawls out in a warning tone.

“We do our part,” he says. “No time to hear your hassle. We’ve got church. I’d hold the pie for Blade another hour.”

Guard overheard us talking. I can feel the heat rising to my face but look their way in spite of it. Guard’s grinning right at me. He’s been watching me, and I’ve had my eyes glued to their shop.

“If you drop off the pie in an hour, Blade will have lots to celebrate.” This doesn’t come from Guard, but from a big, burly man who looks like a giant grizzly. I have to tilt my head way back to take him all in.

As soon as they leave, Millie takes the seat opposite me and tells me all about the town while I drink the superb coffee in front of me and eat the pumpkin spice scone.