Autumn

By Cheyenne Wolf

In the heat of the night anything goes. Rayne, the sexy new man in Alexa Lambert's life fills her with a deep longing to leap beyond her fears and explore the darker edge of desire. He saved her from an attacker but something about him peels her alarm bells. Will she be able to take that leap once she discovers his secrets...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheyenne Wolf
• Release date: Sep 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301274802

Cheyenne Wolf

Cheyenne Wolf is a natural born artist and full time writer. She lives in a suburb near Kansas City Missouri with her family.

Book preview

Autumn

Cheyenne Wolf

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover design by Cheyenne Wolf

Autumn. Copyright © 2010 Cheyenne Wolf

All rights reserved.

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For Travis, because he was so very kind and fun to hang out with.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to my daughter Jacque Wolf, who loves anything and everything vampires. You convinced me to write this series and spent countless hours reading to me so I could hear my characters speak. Thanks to Just Melbourne Magazine for requesting an excerpt and awarding me with a 2011 Reader’s Choice Award. Finally, thanks to all of the fans who have repeatedly asked where they can read me. By your popular demand, this is for you all.

Chapter One

What do you think Alexa, should I order the brown or the black? My friend Penny stopped me. I was just about to leave. She wanted my opinion on which shoes to order. I glanced at the magazine, Black, I answered. Thunder rumbled over our heads. A quick flash of lightning sent her scurrying towards the back door. She waved and yelled, I’ll call you later. The rain began with large drops pelting my windshield as I left the parking lot.

I got off the highway and took the back roads. I had to make a quick stop before I went home. The rain pouring down so heavily I could barely see a few feet in front of me.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter as I passed the warning sign that let drivers know they are approaching a deer crossing. The swiftly thumping windshield wipers mimicked my heartbeat.

I tensed my knuckles looked white when the deer darted out in front of me. I gripped the steering wheel tighter as it cut across the road from my right heading to the left. Pulling the steering wheel right I tried to avoid hitting her thinking the doe would continue in her chosen direction. The car slid as I lifted my foot off the gas pedal and eased on the brakes. My heart pounded in my chest. I felt the slight bump of my car barely clipping the deer’s hindquarters.

The rain slowed. I pulled my white Malibu to the gravel shoulder. I saw her barely break stride as the doe disappeared into the woods on the other side of the road. She might be a little sore but otherwise unharmed.

I jumped out of the car to see the damage but couldn’t find any. This slight accident could have been worse for both of us. I climbed in and pulled my car back onto the road thinking about how fast things can change.

You expect a change is coming when it’s scheduled. My high school graduation is a perfect example of a scheduled change. The ceremony lasted the usual length of time. The preparations my girlfriends and I went through for the event took longer.

The right outfit to wear under the cap and gown was just one of the hurdles. Then I needed the right makeup application and hairstyle. I have long golden hair and trying to make it look good under the odd square cap was absolute torture.

We met that day at Stephanie’s house and helped each other out in an effort to mimic styles on magazine covers. The rising humidity didn’t help in the least. We gathered hours later at the auditorium for commencement. When I heard my name, Alexa Lambert, called I had to accept my diploma with frazzled hair.

I left the auditorium that night feeling a bit sad. Looking back on that day, I realize I felt I didn’t quite fit in.

Most of my friends were in relationships and having sex at the time. I even had a friend who was pregnant and worrying about what she would do next. Her boyfriend left her behind when his family relocated in search of greener pastures. I couldn’t blame the parents for that considering the job market is drying up in Kansas City.

I managed to make it through high school without a steady boyfriend. My girlfriends always tried fixing me up but none of those dates really interested me. A boy that I dated too many times caused me nothing but trouble. After that, I decided not to bother dating anyone just to hang out with my girlfriends.

I had a hard time relating with people my own age. My focus was usually on dreaming about a future life some place far away from my home state of Missouri.

I have only one close relationship and that is with my mother. She and I weren’t always on the same page but I could talk to her about most things.

My mom is a natural born artist who grew up with a pencil in hand. Like most artists, she’s a bit eccentric. She easily draws most animals and a few times, she tried to teach me. Once she even took a picture of a puppy and placed it between us. The puppy was upside down from her point of view but she still managed to draw it. I couldn’t. This was frustrating for me because I just didn’t get that gene. She finally quit trying to teach me and I felt relieved about that.

At some point, she started sketching jewelry designs. She set up a studio in our basement where she makes jewelry and sells it on the internet. This earns us a small amount of money to keep a roof over our heads but nothing more. With me, working full time and pitching in, we can live comfortably enough. My mother and I are more like roommates.

My father is out of the picture and has been since I was six. I rarely even think of him. When I do, most times I just remember his rage. He wasn’t very kind to us when he was home. I don’t miss him.

Missouri produces some serious thunderstorms during the summer. Tornados are common. I hated those storms when I was little because the power went out most of the time. My mom had a way of dealing with my fears and discomfort. We would sit in the front parlor next to the fire, surrounded by candles and she would make up stories for me. I love ghost stories and Mom could make up a story that kept me entertained through the worst of storms.

Change comes in other forms. Intangible feelings creep up and you can sense something has changed but can’t quite explain the reason behind the feeling. I had no idea why I took down my ‘NSYNC poster. I just felt like removing it from my wall as if my personal relationship with the bands music had ended. A few weeks later the band called it quits. Some of my girlfriends were unhappy about that development but I wasn’t. Somehow, I knew they felt that inexplicable need for a change too.

All these thoughts resonated as the clouds above opened up again to shower my Malibu with a torrential downpour. I parked my car in the parking lot and waited for the rain to slow.

I work a full time job at a local hotel and take night classes at Longview Community College in an attempt to get the basic degree requirements. I didn’t want to go away to college like some of my friends. In part, I didn’t want to be stuck in a dorm with the roommate from Hell. One of my friends is dealing with this college experience. She often sends me regular emails complaining about her roommate.

I gazed out my windshield at the tall sandy colored buildings in front of me. Longview College was once a rich man’s home. They’d preserved the main house and a small chapel but tore down most of the other structures. The vast green lawns stretched out between buildings glistening from the rain. I was here attempting to straighten out some mistake with my financial aid.

I’m taking classes on a grant and somebody messed up my account. Classes are starting this week and this is just one more hurdle I am not in the mood to deal with but I have no choice.

Every semester I received the call that they’d canceled the class I intended to take due to low enrollment. This semester was no exception. I ended up enrolled in the same class but on a different night. I thought that would be the usual and only hassle until I checked the website. Now I had to battle with the financial aid office.

I stood in a long line of people who complained of similar problems. I listened to the complaints but kept mine to myself.

I’d already driven to the school three times in an effort to obtain my books. However, the bookstore didn’t have them yet. They assured me that the teachers were aware of the problem but that wasn’t going to help me in the least. I have a full time job and can’t leave anytime I need to.

A shimmer of awareness prickled up my arms. That feeling you get when someone is staring at you. The one that makes you automatically glance in their direction. I met his gaze for only a moment before he turned away. His blonde hair just curled over his ears. The emerald color of his eyes startled me with the intensity of his scrutiny. He moved quickly and began talking to another man who leaned casually against a pillar.

All I could see of that man was long dark hair that curled around his shirt collar. He stepped away from the pillar and turned towards me. My breath hitched in my throat. His six-foot frame comprised of long lean muscles was beautiful. What made me gasp for breath was the pale Siberian Husky-blue of his eyes.

Miss, can I help you? The woman behind the desk finally got my attention. I glanced away from the two, long enough to approach her. When I glanced back to where the two men were standing, they were gone.

Relieved that my financial aid problems are now over I left the building. I felt frustrated because I couldn’t get my book and my class starts tomorrow night.

Tomorrow looked to be the longest day of my life because my boss was leaving town and I had to fill her shoes. Her eldest son had passed away in his sleep. They told her that his heart gave out. I held her as she cried and thought about my mother. My mother wouldn’t have the will to go on if something happened to me.

Mom was the other reason I didn’t leave home to attend any university. I just didn’t want to leave her all alone in that rambling three-story Queen Anne style house. As it is now, she spends most of her time creeping around in the basement making jewelry.

I navigated the back roads headed for the house I share with my mother. I just wanted to be home surrounded by the smells of whatever she’s cooking. I knew that Tazita would chatter away at me the moment she spotted me. I’m feeling slightly anxious about her.

Tazita is one of those gifts that keep on giving. She was just one of my birthday presents that year and she was getting old. Mom found her through the newspaper. The advertisement said mixed breed kittens for twenty-five dollars. Mom called them and found the black kitten I so desperately wanted at the time. A barn cat and the neighbor’s rescued ocelot had produced a litter of four.

Taz is rather large for a cat but not large enough to draw too much attention. If you look closely at her black fur, you can see faint rosettes, a gift from her ocelot father’s genes.

I pulled my Malibu into the driveway and parked it next to my mother’s Highlander in front of our detached garage. Our home sits on a large half-acre lot on the corner surrounded by trees.

I glanced over at the butter yellow monstrosity with its white wrap around porch. I noticed that Mom had planted the mums next to the steps that led up to the porch and the back door. The rain started coming down hard again. I grabbed my purse, jumped out of my car locking the door and ran.

Inside the back door, we have a combination mud and laundry room. I eased out of my rain jacket and then sat on the bench to remove my shoes. Luckily, my laundry basket was sitting on top of the counter next to the clothes drier. A pile of freshly cleaned folded towels sat next to it. I grabbed for a clean towel and dried my hair. I pulled a clean T-shirt from my basket and changed out of my wet blouse. Then peeled my wet jeans off and grabbed some pajama pants.

Finally warm and dry I stepped into the kitchen. The heavenly smell of something cooking on the stove enveloped me. I walked to the stainless steel stove and after grabbing a potholder removed the lid from the pot.

The smell of Mom’s chicken and white bean chili wafted up and my stomach growled. She made this with pepper jack cheese and this dish was just perfect for a wet, cold and rainy day. I stirred the concoction and then put the lid back on the pot. I walked across the large kitchen past the dining room table and opened the basement door.

Hey Mom I’m home. I yelled down the stairs.

She answered me, Hey sweetie I’m glad you’re home and safe. Just let me finish this and then I’ll be right up.

Take your time Mom I’m going to check on Taz.

My mother is allergic to Taz so most of the time she stays in my room. However, Mom is an animal lover so she brushes Tazita, talks to her and feeds her at least once a day.

Tazita chatters a lot as if she’s trying to carry on a conversation with my mother. Admittedly, she does the same with me but it’s just a little different. I can talk to her or read to her and she will stay quiet. When my mother speaks to her, she always has to chatter back.

I climbed the stairs to my room and opened the door. A large lump in the middle of my bed let me know that Taz had once again managed to crawl under my covers. I couldn’t figure out how she did this. I always made my bed yet somehow she could nudge her way under the bedspread.

I walked over and tapped lightly on top of the lump. She moved while making a muffled sound. I pulled the covers back and she lumbered up. She trilled something that sounds like momma. I picked her up and held her against my chest. She chortled more and then started purring. Then she nuzzled my ear tickling me until I giggled.

My room still contained that faint smell of fresh paint. We’d painted it a vanilla color last week to go with the dark Victorian trim these homes boasted. I picked out a plush medium- blue velvet and vanilla satin bedspread to complement the new paint. I really liked the feeling of luxury.

I left my bedroom door open and headed back to the kitchen with Taz hot on my heels. I opened a tiny can of cat food and filled her porcelain dish. At the same time, Mom entered from the basement. I pulled out a couple of bowls and some spoons and placed them on the counter. She poured two glasses of ice tea and grabbed the crackers. With our bowls filled, we sat down at the kitchen table.

It looks like it may rain all night. Mom said to me.

This is how she approaches casual conversations with me. I knew she really didn’t want to talk about the rain. She was waiting patiently for me to tell her about my day.

The weather report said that it might rain for the next four days. I answered. My financial aid is straightened out so we don’t have to worry about that. I knew this was worrying her.

She smiled at me. Well that is good news, she said. Did you meet anyone interesting at school? She took another bite of her chili.

I knew my mother wanted me to start dating. I would be twenty-one years old next month. She was hoping I’d fall in love and live happily ever after. I just wasn’t so sure that would happen considering the dating pool in my area. I remembered the two men that were watching me at the campus center. I thought telling her about them might satisfy her.

I didn’t see any of my old classmates if that’s what you’re asking. I took a bite of my chicken chili and moaned in pleasure. I did see a couple of good looking guys at the campus center. They were staring at me and it made me feel slightly uncomfortable. I wonder why they were staring. I took another bite of chili and then swallowed some tea.

My mother swallowed her tea and then set the glass on the table. She said, I imagine they were staring because they think you’re pretty. You have to admit that your hour glass figure is superior to those stick figured girls.

I stifled the groan. My mother took pride in my curves. She thought I had the perfect figure. If she only knew how much I struggled when trying to find clothes. I doubt that, I said. Most of the girls I knew in high school were tiny. They could wear anything. They’re the ones that the boys usually liked.

Mom laughed, Things change sweetie. These days men appreciate a nice round backside that you can bounce a quarter off of.

Mom, stop that. I said. I could feel the blush rise up to my hairline.

Alexa I was the same way at your age. I couldn’t figure out why everyone stared at me no matter where I went. Looking back on it now, I realize that they thought I was attractive. She took another sip of tea as I prepared myself for what I knew would come next. You’re a beautiful girl. You have a tiny waist and curves in all the right places. That’s bound to draw attention to you. Enjoy it while you can but be careful who you accept a date with.

I would have pointed out that my mom was one of those skinny girls at my age if you discounted her large breasts. She had one of those natural bodies that people who don’t, pay a great deal of money to obtain. I carry extra weight in my thighs. My mother never had that particular problem. This was an old argument that neither of us could win.

I turned the tables because I was sick of talking about me. I also think that my mother needed to stop with the insane idea that she should stay celibate. I am grown now and she needed to focus on her own life, her own prospects for love. I hate the way she refuses dates when anyone asks her. I knew most of that had to do with her not wanting my life disrupted by a man.

I’ll date when you finally decide to give some guy a chance. I rushed on, Mom it’s been years since you accepted a date. You’re still in decent shape. If you’d just let me color your hair to wash away that little bit of gray that your getting nobody could even tell how old you are. Mom’s brows nit together as if she were considering the idea, this surprised me.

Actually, I bought a box of Natural Instincts non-permanent hair color just to see if I like it. She rose taking her dishes to the dishwasher and I followed.

I felt a little stunned to hear that she’d given in to this request. I’d tried for several months to get her to color her hair. I wondered if she was feeling that inexplicable need for change that I was feeling. I’ll help you color your hair if you’ll cut mine.

She looked at me with a pained expression. She wanted my hair long to my waist. She loved the spun gold look of it and the way the sun streaked sections of it as if I’d been to an expensive salon.

I’d had the salon experience a couple of times and in the end my mother just did it better. I trusted her to cut my hair. Once she even cut seven layers when everyone was going for that look.

Mom turned in my direction and leaned against the counter studying me. Okay you’re on. I’ll trim your hair and you can help me color mine.

Mom’s hair turned out great. She’d chosen a shade of dark rich brown that was very close to her natural hair color. This complemented her darker complexion. Compared to her I’m pale. I ran a comb through my hair, relieved it was free of the dead ends that made it hard to comb out after I showered. I just had one more hurdle to handle before I could call it a night.

This was a major hurdle. For some odd reason, Tazita has decided that she will not settle down for the night if I read to her as she used to. Now, she has to see my mother before she will settle down and sleep. If I try to get her to lie down, she jumps off the bed and screams at the bedroom door something that sounds like gwanma. I waited for Mom to do her nightly check of the house and come help me get Taz settled.

The constant rumbling thunder and cracks of lighting shook the house. This caused Taz to scramble around out of fear. It wasn’t until after midnight that the storm finally slowed enough for us both to sleep.

At five-thirty in the morning, the sky was still dark. I tumbled out of bed and hit the shower. I had to get to work early to make up the boards for the housekeepers. I knew it would be a long day. Then tonight I had class and that wouldn’t let out until ten.

I finished drying my hair and pulled on my khaki pants and blue shirt with the company logo. I tucked Taz in under my new bedspread hoping she would be happy and headed downstairs.

Mom had breakfast cooking on the stove, which was a whole lot better than the cereal I’d planned on eating. Mom you didn’t have to do this I could have eaten cereal. You probably didn’t get anymore sleep than I did.

She sipped at her oversized wolf-puppy coffee cup and then lowered it. She smiled at me. One of the benefits of working from home is that if I get tired I can take a nap.

I laughed and said, But you never do.

I’ll be fine Alexa. This is going to be a very long day for you. And to top it off you have to be brilliant in class tonight after a full day of working.

I didn’t know how brilliant I’d be after a long day but I did try to get decent grades. I poured myself a cup of coffee and loaded it up with sugar and my favorite vanilla creamer. Then I filled a plate with bacon, some scrambled eggs and hash browns. I’ll be fine. I said. Neither one of us is very talkative first thing in the morning so I tore into breakfast.

I glanced around the kitchen at all the hard work my mom had put in trying to make it light and airy considering all the dark trim in the house. She’d painted the chair rail and wainscoting white and the rest of the walls a light yellow. The dark molding around the doors she wouldn’t touch. I thought it made for a nice contrast. The granite counter tops came in colors that complemented the molding so it all worked.

I shoved my plate in the dishwasher, pinned on my nametag and hugged my mom. Thanks for breakfast. I should be home long enough to eat and change before I have to leave for class. I told her then I slipped outside and ran for the car.

I parked my car close to the door that led to the office and then ran for it. The rain was coming down in sheets. This hotel is comprised of several buildings surrounding a central courtyard. Most of our clients are business oriented. We have contracts with a few companies that use us regularly.

I logged on to the computer and began the arduous task of making the boards. At times, it was hard to divide the number of rooms equally between housekeepers. Yesterday, I had to remake all the boards because I had a housekeeper that didn’t show.

Finished with that task I stepped from the office and into the laundry room that would lead me to the supply closet. Satisfied that we had enough supplies for the girls I loped through the laundry room and shoved through the door that would lead me behind the front desk.

My friend Victor staffed the desk today. He was on the phone with a guest so I waited. Victor is an avid outdoor fan. He loves being outside more than anything. I imagine it’s hard for him working a job that keeps him indoors all day.

Victor stands around five-feet-ten with an average looking build and reddish hair. He is also gay and not happy in his current relationship. He’s interesting to talk with. We chat about music, films and books. I’m always happy to see him behind the desk. We get along