1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Archer

Weddings were my least favorite events to shoot. They took hours, and I'd yet to photograph a single wedding where there wasn't some kind of family drama. I'd seen some crazy shit in my time, but I could honestly say this was the first time I'd seen the bride and one of the guests get into a catfight.

The bride's grandmother was ninety-eight-years-old, and no one had thought she'd live to see her granddaughter marry, so I'd been asked to be sure and take pictures of her when possible. During the wedding ceremony, I'd manage to get one teary-eyed picture of the grandmother while the bride was saying her vows, but for the most part, my focus was on the couple. Once we moved to the reception, I wanted to make sure I got some good shots that included the older woman. That was what I was doing when the fight broke out, so I missed how it actually started.

I heard someone yell, "You bitch, those are mine." And by the time I located the sound, claws were out, and they were rolling around on the floor, pulling hair and screeching.

I doubted they'd want to remember this part, but I lifted my camera and captured the moment because that was what I did. Nobody was ever going to say an important moment happened on my watch, and there weren't any pictures of it.

From what I could piece together from the insults and profanities that were being hurled back and forth, the bride's something old was an heirloom that belonged to the aforementioned grandmother. Her cousin had thought it was going to be hers, and she wanted it back. The bride said this was her special day and the cousin could go to hell.

I stayed the course, my camera shutter clicking as the groom, the father of the bride, and some other gentlemen pulled them apart, but by then, they were both a mess. The mother of the bride rushed forward, trying to straighten the bride's hair and dress.

When she realized it was pretty much hopeless, she shot the cousin a glare that would have incinerated her on the spot if that was possible. Yes, I caught that on camera as well. She let out a sigh and shook her head. "Maybe we should just send everyone home, dear. The wedding was beautiful, so you'll always have that."

"Send everyone home?" the bride exclaimed. "I haven't cut the cake or had my first dance or my father-daughter dance. There's no way that bitch is ruining my day. My day, do you hear me? It's my day."

In her defense, up until this moment, Autumn, the bride, had been nothing but delightful. I'd seen no bridezilla tendencies at all, so it had to be the stress of the moment and the idea that all her dreams and plans for this day were going to be ruined.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Mitch, the groom, assured her. "Think of it this way. People will never forget our wedding. I mean, how often can you say you saw a badass bride kick someone's ass at their wedding?"

A small smile tweaked her lips. "I did kick her ass, didn't I?"

"Totally," he assured her.

I wasn't so sure that was true, but I commended him for knowing exactly the right thing to say.

"Well, if we're continuing on, we need to get you cleaned up." Her mother patted her on the arm and gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll go check with the venue and make sure it's okay if we run over time."

She looked around and spotted me there still taking pictures and walked my way. "How about you, Archer? Do you mind staying?"

Did I mind staying? Yes, I actually did. I had plans for the rest of the day that included a nice bottle of wine and some time spent in my darkroom. But no matter how badly I wanted to leave, there was no way I wanted her wedding portfolio to contain amateur pictures taken with cell phones. Not if it was going to have my name on it.

"I can stay. No worries."

"Thank you," she said before turning to another of the guests. "Paula, you take your daughter and get out of here before I finish what Autumn started."

It was a good two hours later when I pulled my car into my parking spot at the Windsor. It had been a long day, and I was beat. I'd never been so grateful for the fact that my studio was located on the ground floor of the apartment building I lived in because that meant I could unload all my gear, and then make my way upstairs to my apartment.

Of course, that wasn't what I did since there was also a bar in the old hotel lobby that looked very inviting after the day I'd just had.

I was both relieved and annoyed to see both Hitch and Bram sitting there. Turning the old Windsor Hotel into a condominium was Hitch's brainchild, and I had to say, he'd done a fantastic job. The upper floors were all individual units of varying sizes, and the bottom floor was several different shops, a restaurant, a bakery, and the bar. He'd kept the character of the old building by turning the lobby into something of a community space that felt very homey.

I'd found this place when I was looking for somewhere to open my photography studio. I hadn't expected to find a new home as well as friends that were the closest thing to family I'd had in years. That's exactly what I'd found, though, which was why, even if I really wanted to have a drink and then go upstairs and brood about what a shitshow today had been, I was mostly glad to see them.

"Hey, Arch, what's up? You look rough." Hitch motioned to Quincy, the bartender, to get me a drink. Quincy looked at me, and I gave him a nod. He didn't even need to ask me what I wanted. I liked my whiskey neat, and Quincy knew exactly what kind I liked.

"Yeah, well, it was a rough day."

"What was it this time? A toddler with too much energy or someone who wanted perfect photos of their dog even though it refused to stay still?" Bram asked.

"No." I shook my head. "Worse."

Quincy handed me my drink, and I downed it in one shot. "Easy, man, that ain't Black Velvet. That's for sipping, not chuggin."

"I know, Quincy, but it's been a day. Get me another, and I'll treat the second one right."

"Warn me next time, and I'll make your first shot bottom shelf so you're not wasting the good stuff." He chuckled and poured me another shot.

"So worse, huh? What's worse than that?" Bram asked.

"A sick kid? Did one of the rug rats throw up on you this time?"

"No, but that has happened before. This was a wedding, and I kid you not, the bride and her cousin got into a catfight."

"No way. Did you catch it on camera?"

"Of course I did." I smirked and took a sip of my whiskey, savoring it this time.

I gave them the rundown of what happened, and by the time I was finished, they'd both agreed I deserved a drink or three.

"How about you guys? How was your day?"

"Well, I thought it was bad until you got here." Hitch laughed and then launched into a story about his day.

I might not be living my dream yet, but what I did have wasn't half-bad since I had these two to complain about it with.

Crispin

Yum, yum, yummy. I hefted my yoga bag up higher on my shoulder as I passed the bar in the lobby. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding sat at the end, glaring down into his drink. What that man needed was some stress relief. Hmm . I wondered if I could find a way to entice him into taking one of my yoga classes. Then again, for him, I had some other fine ideas of how he could work out some of his tension all over my body.

Snickering to myself, I almost collided with Elton. "Sorry."

He waved a hand in the air in acknowledgment and kept on going, which cracked me up. As long as I'd seen him around the Windsor, it had been obvious that his head was in the clouds. It made sense since rumor had it that he was a fantasy author.

I made it to my car and tossed my bag in the backseat with my mind straying back to the broody guy from the bar, which was silly. I didn't have time to daydream about sexy times with a stranger when I needed to focus on making money. Getting the luscious man into one of my classes would benefit my wallet, and hopefully, his disposition, but it would take a lot more bodies than him to make the studio profitable. Where were all the yoga enthusiasts, and how should I draw them in?

As I drove home, a glance at the gas gauge had me groaning. I swear I had to fill this stinking thing up every time I turned around. I had this unbelievable opportunity to make my dream come true years before I expected it to happen, but it was hard not to get discouraged when money was so tight.

I could go ahead and DoorDash tonight, but I hadn't planned on it, so I was still in yoga pants and a shirt that stopped above my belly button. I figured out pretty quickly after I started food delivery—or dashing, as I learned once I started the job—that it was safest if I dressed more like an everyday Joe in jeans and a t-shirt. The last thing I needed was some homophobic pain-in-the ass giving me a hard time. I'd even had someone withhold their tip once they got a look at me. People like that were a waste of space, in my humble opinion.

Arriving home, where I was staying in my brother Ben's spare room, I swore. My parents were here. Why hadn't my brother warned me? How hard was it to shoot a quick text message? I'd have been better off delivering food and making some extra money than dealing with my father's attitude about my life's choices. At least he didn't care that I was gay. Deciding not to add fuel to his fire, I left my yoga bag in the car. My outfit showcased where I'd been enough and what I'd been doing, but I couldn't do anything about that now.

As I opened the front door, I wondered if I could sneak past the living room and go straight to my bedroom, but the sounds from the show on the TV went silent as my mom called, "Crispin, is that you?"

Busted. "Yes." Mom jumped up and enfolded me in her warm embrace as soon as I walked into the living room, and I felt like a dick for wanting to avoid her. I loved my parents, and I knew I held a special place in my mom's heart. Listening to my dad's lectures sucked, but really, wasn't my mom worth it?

As I pulled back from her, I caught a glimpse of Ben's face. He looked worried and sorry. I nodded and gave him a small smile to let him know it was okay. This was his house, and he was doing me a huge favor by letting me stay here while I worked out my life. He shouldn't have to ostracize my parents because my dad made me uncomfortable.

"Where have you been dressed like that?" my father asked gruffly, with a tone of disdain.

Mom rolled her eyes. "Larry, how about you say hi to our son?"

Ben and I gaped at each other, shocked. That was really pushing the envelope for my mom. My parents had a fantastic relationship, and I hadn't known my dad had it in him to be such a dick until I quit my job at the mortgage company. I'd hated it with every fiber of my being, but all he'd cared about was that it was a stable career that made me a decent income. It didn't help that Ben had also gone to school for finance and genuinely enjoyed his job as a financial consultant and was doing quite well for himself. My decision to pursue what Dad considered a whimsical life baffled my father, and it had put us at odds.

Dad sighed loudly. I knew that sound. It meant his patience was being stretched to the limit. Hell, I'd literally just walked in. Was my mere presence enough to aggravate him now? "Hello, Crispin. It's good to see you, son."

"Nice to see you too, Dad," I said, crossing to the couch where he sat with my hand outstretched.

He shook it hard enough to break bones, but that was his way. "So, have you re-thought this ridiculous idea yet?"

"Dad," my brother said, raking a hand through his hair.

"Can't we just put the movie back on?" my mom asked softly, which was more her normal speed. Her redirection worked about sixty-five percent of the time. Hopefully, tonight would be one of them.

Grabbing at that, I asked, "What are you guys watching?"

"Maestro," Ben said.

"Oh, I haven't seen that one yet." Not that I'd wanted to start it halfway through, but I'd deal with it if it meant my dad wasn't lecturing me.

"You still haven't answered my question," Dad said.

Staring down at the ground, with my arms hanging by my sides, I pinched the material of my pants. "No, Dad. This is what I want."

"Your mother and I didn't work this hard to give you boys a future for you to throw it away with this nonsense."

"Honey," Mom said, jumping in. "Why don't you change your clothes and join us?"

"Yeah, okay." I appreciated her giving me a reason to leave the room. My brother frowned at me sadly as I shuffled away. We both knew what I was in for. The rest of the night would be spent either listening to my father give me his opinions or feeling his stony glare on me, which sucked. I wouldn't argue or stick up for myself. I'd learned months ago that it wasn't worth wasting my breath.