“I can’t believe this.” She shakes her head. “That was possibly the only day I remember in my life when neither Mom nor I were here for a function.” She stays quiet for a while and then whispers, “We could have met sooner.”

And I know what she means. Despite us being married, it feels like I’m meeting her for the first time. She’s still unfamiliar in so many ways.

When I read her emails, she always seemed like the eighteen-year-old I met. But right now, dressed in a baby-blue sweater and white pants, she’s beautiful, charming, and mature. Someone I could talk to all night. If I’d have met this girl in a bar or a restaurant, I might have asked her out.

She collects her hair and ties it into a bun. As much as I hate myself for it, I want to touch the silky strands that escape and frame her round face.

“But I’m here now,” I blurt and immediately jerk back.

Her eyes widen as if she didn’t expect me to say that.

I look away from her face, which is hypnotizing, casting some spell on me, tearing my sanity.

How the heck did we end up like this? What were we discussing before the cold night air turned hot and sweaty?

Yes, about her celebrity guests.

“If you like, I can accompany you when they’re here? I’ll probably be out of this fucker by then.” I cock my head toward the sling around my arm.

“Would you do that? Join the meeting?” Her voice squeaks.

“Yes, why not? But only if you’d like.”

“You’d be perfect. Looking at your serious face and muscular body, they probably won’t be brutal with me in the case that the inn turns out completely opposite their expectations.”

“My face and muscles are at your service whenever you need them.”

Autumn smiles. “Thanks.”

And after that, there was no reason for us to stay outside in the cold night.

“Let’s go in,” I say and my heart races as I get up. Autumn’s hesitant gaze follows my movements. I don’t feel like a thirty-four-year-old or a daredevil right this moment, but more like a teenager as I step inside. “I—”

“You—”

And then we’re both quiet.

“This is fucking weird.” I rake a hand through my hair, looking up at the ceiling.

“It is,” she replies. “But it doesn’t have to be. You take the bed, Lukas.”

I’m about to protest when she jumps on the couch and lies down, showing me how well she fits there. “This is perfect for me.”

13. Autumn

13

AUTUMN

Lukas looks down at me as I settle onto the couch, showing him it’s perfect for me. Once again, I feel the fire in his deep blue eyes.