I wake up to the smell of bacon and coffee, and for a moment, I think I’m dreaming. Then I see Julie standing in the bedroom doorway, holding a tray and wearing nothing but a T-shirt and panties.
“Happy thirty-one days,” she says with a sweet smile. “Ready to disappear and pretend I don’t exist?”
“As if that’s possible. I tried thatst year, but it didn’t work out for me,” I tell her, sitting upright to lean against her headboard.
She sets the tray on the nightstand and climbs onto the bed, straddling myp. Julie leans forward and kisses me, tasting like coffee and promise.
“How does it feel to make it past your infamous thirty-day mark?” she asks against my mouth, then pulls away. “Wait, does this even count? I mean, technically …”
“Hell yeah, it does.” I wrap my arms around her, leaning in to kiss her again. “The countdown began the moment I kissed you in the coffee shop.”
“So, you’re finally admitting that you kissed me?” Sheughs, running her fingers through my messy hair.
“I wanted to.”
I love the way she looks at me. It makes me believe I’m something special, something worth her time.
“Good, because I woke up early and made breakfast to celebrate this record-breaking asion.”
“Thank you.”
The words I need you and want you forever sit heavy on my tongue, begging to be said, but I’m keeping emotions to myself. We agreed to wait, and it’s still two and a half weeks away. It’s hard.
“Thank you for not sliding out of bedst night and disappearing.” She grins. “Or suddenly deciding you need to find yourself in Tibet.”
“The only thing I need is more of you,” I admit freely.
“You have me.”
“Forever?” I tease as she crawls off of me.
I sit up straighter, and she sets the tray on myp. There are two tes, one for each of us, and two cups of steaming coffee. She prepared crispy bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and hash browns.
“Wow,” I say. “This is the first time a woman has ever made me breakfast in bed.”
“Really?” She looks proud of herself. “I feel special to have one of your firsts.”
“You are special,” I admit. “No one ever cared enough.”
Her smile fades. “That makes me sad.”
“Aw, don’t be.” I chuckle. “I wasn’t the best partner. Being with you has made me realize I was an entitled asshole for no reason, who had zero respect for myself or anyone else. Thank you for that.”
“You’re wee.” She sips her coffee, eyeing me. “So, I kept my end of our fake-dating bargain?”
“Hell yeah, you did,” I say. “I’m not the same person I was when I arrived. Truthfully, I don’t know how I’ll transition back to my life.”
“You’ll figure it out,” she says. “You know why?”
I shake my head.
“Because what’s meant to be always has a way of working itself out.”
“You believe that?” I ask.
“Yep,” she says. “Think about the things in your life that have worked out. For me, I didn’t have to force anything because it fell into ce. That’s how rtionships should be too. Try because you want to and because you care, not because you have to. Pour your energy into what matters. It’s impossible to force a square peg into a round hole.”
I smile. “I’m so damn lucky to have met you.”
“I feel the same,” she confesses. “You know, the Nics Banks they talk about on the inte and the one eating breakfast in my bed aren’t the same.”
This makes meugh. “I’m aware.”
“I’m d,” she says. “Not sure I’d like that asshole very much.”
“Oh, I’m still that asshole, but you make me soft.”
“Aw,” she says. “That’s kind of adorable though.”
We finish eating and talk about anything and everything. It feels nice to be with her. I imagine this is what she meant when she said she wantedzy days with someone.
“Don’t forget, tonight I have to do inventory at the coffee shop,” she says, stacking the tes on the tray, then moving it to the bedside table.
“You don’t have to,” I tell her.
She grins. “I want to. I miss being at work. Not being able to help makes me feel guilty because it’s the busiest time of the year. It’s simr to being one of Santa’s elves and not working during December.”
I turn to her. “I understand, but your safety is more important. Speaking of, today I’d like it if you filed a temporary restraining order on Craig,” I say, catching her hand and kissing her palm.
“Okay,” she tells me. I can hear the disappointment in her voice. “I was hoping he would calm down.”
“But he hasn’t, and after speaking with Sarah, I don’t think he will. Once Craig’s served papers, he will know to leave you alone. No more games, Julie. I worry about you, and I can’t follow you around everywhere.”
“Are you sure you can’t? I enjoy having you around all the time.” She yfully bumps my shoulder.
I take a sip of coffee. “I love it and wish I could, but I also want you to be protected. If something happened to you …”
She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Nothing will happen, Nick. We’ll go today, even if it’s just for peace of mind.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as she leans over and kisses me.
I meet her eyes, knowing I’ve never made it past thirty days with anyone. And maybe it’s because with Julie, it’s different. It’sfortable without the normal pressures. I’m not counting down the seconds, waiting for when it’s over. I watch the clock because I never want it to end.
With anyone else, I’d be halfway to Europe, giving excuses about needing space or time to figure things out. Instead, I’m pulling her down for a kiss, wondering how I ever lived without her.
“Are you ready for the real celebration?” she asks against my lips.
“Breakfast wasn’t it?”
“Oh, no.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “This was just the appetizer.”
Before I can move, she’s straddling me again, pulling her T-shirt over her head.
“Thirty-one days deserves a proper celebration, don’t you think?” she whispers.
“Hell yes.”<hr>
The courthouse smells like old paper and disappointment.
“Reason for requesting order?” she reads aloud, then pauses, pen hovering over the small box. She takes a deep breath and begins writing.
Julie fills out form after form, and I watch her hand cramp as she writes, detailing every incident—from the constant texts to the festival confrontation to Sarah admitting he drove by her condo at night.
I can see some of the words from where I sit. Harassment, unwanted contact, and stalking her are just a few things she’s scribbled down. Her handwriting gets shakier with each sentence.
Once she’s signed her name at the bottom, she returns to the clerk with her head held high. The woman—probably in herte fifties and with kind eyes behind thick sses—reviews everything.
“What are the odds of this going through?” Julie asks, fingers tapping on the counter.
The clerk looks up at her. “Honey, with what you’ve documented here, it’s enough for a temporary order. He’ll be served within forty-eight hours. After that, if he does this again, it’s considered a vition.”
“And then what happens?” Julie’s voice is just above a whisper.
“Then he can be arrested.”
Julie nods, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” the clerk adds. “I know this is ufortable, but too many women wait until it’s toote, and something terrible happens to them. You have to protect yourself where you can.”
Julie flinches, and I step forward, cing my hand on her waist, needing to be close to her.
As we walk out, I wrap my arm around her, feeling her lean into me. The October sun is bright, and it makes her squint.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I hate that it came to this,” she mutters. “I just wanted Craig to move on. To be happy with Sarah, have his baby, live his life. He moved away, and I thought he would be gone forever. None of this should’ve happened.”
“I do understand him not wanting to let you go,” I tell her, tilting her chin up to meet my eyes. “But he has to. It’s be an obsession, Jules. Driving by your house, keeping your photos, calling Sarah by your name … that is not normal behavior.”
“And what happens if he doesn’t respect this?” She waves the copy of the order. “Will they actually do something?”
I don’t answer because I don’t know. Restraining orders work if the person respects them. And Craig has already shown he doesn’t care about boundaries.
“Come on,” I say, leading her to the Range Rover, needing to change the subject. “Want to get lunch?”
“Hmm …” She looks up at me with those green eyes, still ssy with unshed tears. “Can we just go home?”
The word home does something to me.
She continues, “I want to spend the rest of my free time with you today. Just us. No wandering eyes or whispers.”
“Whatever you want, Little Red.”
When we return to her condo, Julie kicks off her shoes and copses on the couch. “Want to be a potato with me?”
“Hell yeah,” I say, joining her.
I position myself behind her body, holding her as she flicks on the TV. Her phone buzzes, and she pulls it from her pocket.
Autumn
Just checking in. How are things?
ire
Yeah, let us know!
She texts the group chat, named the Sanderson Sisters, which includes the three of them.
Julie
I’m surviving!
She records a voice memo to catch them up. Their responsese fast, and it’s all supportive messages. Autumn even threatens to deal with Craig herself if he vites the order.
Then she texts her mom and updates her too.
Mom
Oh, sweetheart. Good for you.
Julie
You’re not upset?
Mom
Upset? I’m relieved! Your father and I have been worried sick about his behavior. It’s uneptable. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. How are you and Nick?
She turns her head toward me, smiling. “My parents adore you.”
I snuggle into her neck, kissing the softness of her skin. “I adore them.”
Julie
We’re great!
Mom
I like him. Seems as if you two really hit it off.
Julie
Thanks, Mom!
Mom
I’m serious. I’ve never seen you so happy. Hope you’re having the best time.
Julie
I am. It’s been incredible.
Julie tilts her head and looks at me, aware that I can read everything. “Guess they don’t need any convincing.”
“Do you?” I ask.
“No,” she says, setting her phone down, thenpletely turning toward me until we’re face-to-face. “Whatever happens on Halloween, know that I will always cherish this time with you.”
“I will too. It’s been the best autumn of my life.” I kiss her, wanting her to know.
She smiles against my lips. “Want to watch Dumb and Dumber? I could use some ridiculousness.”
“If you asked me to watch grass grow with you, I would.”
She twists around, pressing her ass against my cock. Our bodies mold together as she reaches for the remote, then clicks on the movie. I wrap my arm around her, holding her, smelling her, appreciating how she fits in my arms, wanting this moment tost a lifetime.<hr>
The coffee shop glows in the darkness. It’s the only business still lit on the block as tourists roam the streets in Halloween costumes. Not being dressed up makes me an outlier. Music andughter drift from the festival, which is packed for a Wednesday night. There is no parking as far as the eye can see.
Through therge walls of windows of Cozy Coffee, I see ire and Tracy behind the counter, finishing their closing duties.
I push through the front door, and the bell chimes, announcing my arrival.
Three hours ago, I walked Julie to Cozy Coffee so she could start counting her inventory. She told me she’d be finished around closing time. While she was doing that, I had a very long discussion with Asher. It was productive.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” Tracy says, and then she realizes it’s me. “Hey, Nick! Julie’s in the office. You can go back there, but can you lock the door for me first?”
“Hi. Sure,” I say, doing what she asked.
ire wipes down the espresso machine and lifts her brow at me. “Hey, stranger.”
“Stranger?” I say with augh. “Sorry I haven’t been around much. I’ve been busy.”
“‘Busy.’” She uses air quotes.
Sierraughs as her head pops up from the pastry case she’s cleaning. Tracy finishes counting the register and slides the drawer out.
“We’re heading out in ten,” ire says with a knowing smirk. “Then the shop will be all yours.”
“Great,” I tell her. “How have things been?”
“Quiet,” ire admits. “No signs of the ex, which is either a blessing or a curse. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Total blessing,” Sierra says. “He’s weird AF.”
“He wasn’t always like that,” Tracy exins. “I think he started losing it after he realized Julie had moved on.”
“What did he expect? For Julie to sit around and wait for him?” ire scoffs. “They’ve been over. He can kick rocks. If he doesn’t watch out, I’m going to put a hex on him.”
A part of me feels guilty, and I wonder if I instigated something.
I make my way to the back office, finding Julie bent over the desk, calctor in hand, surrounded by clipboards. Her hair is piled on top of her head, held up with a pencil. I watch her for a few seconds, loving how pretty she looks when she concentrates.
“How’s it going?” I ask from the doorway.
She looks over at me and grins. “Oh, hi! I was just thinking about you.”
“Really?” I ask. “I was thinking about you too. Almost finished?”
“I’ve counted all the cups, lids, syrups, and, well, everything. Now I’m trying to reconcile it withst month’s numbers and calcte what we need to order.”
“Want help?”
“You know how to do inventory?”
“I help run a multibillion-dorpany, remember?”
“You’re right.” She scoots over, making room for me at the desk. Our thighs press together as she slides the keyboard toward me. “These numbers go in this column.”
“Bye, Jules!” ire calls out. “We’re leaving! I miss you!”
“I miss you! Thanks for everything!” Julie calls back.
The front door chimes, and then there’s silence.
We’re alone.
I work through inputting the numbers into theputer system as she logs things in a book. Every few minutes, she shifts, her leg brushing against mine. The office feels smaller, more intimate.
“You’re good at this,” she says, watching me work.
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m not. Maybe having you here will be my new tradition.”
Iugh. “Maybe so.”
She smirks and stands, moving between me and the desk. “We’re alone.”
“What about finishing the inventory?”
“The numbers can wait. I can’t,” she says.
“You’re sure?” I ask, ncing at all the family photos on the wall.
“Yes,” she says. “Make my fantasye true.”
The air shifts between us, and it’s full of anticipation. I pull her onto myp, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine as she straddles me.
Her hands fly to my belt, and it’s desperate, but I catch her wrists before she gets it undone.
“Not yet,” I murmur, rougher than I intended.
Her eyes sh up to mine, all fire and need, and, God, it nearly kills me to deny her, but I want her strung tight. I want her begging for me. I want to watch her lose control piece by piece because she needs this.
I slide my palms up her thighs, dragging out the touch, savoring the way her skin burns under my hands. I grip her ass, pulling her hard against me so she feels the thick length of my cock pressing into her. She rocks against me and releases a gasp. Pride overtakes me, knowing that I can affect her this way, that she trusts me to give her what she wants.
Her mouth crashes into mine, lips feverish, tongue greedy, and I taste her, never able to get enough. My fist tangles in her long hair, tilting her head just enough to steal more of her moans. I push her back against the desk, papers sliding to the floor, but I don’t care. The only thing in this room that matters is her.
I unbutton her blouse one slow pop at a time, holding her gaze, as if to remind her that she belongs to me. Like she could forget. When her bra falls away and her breasts spill free, I cup them, tweak her nipples until they’re tight peaks against my palms. Her head tips back, and she whispers my name like it’s a prayer.
I could worship her for eternity.
I drop to my knees, shove her skirt up, and press my mouth against the dampce of her panties. The taste of her teases me, even through the fabric, and my cock jerks painfully against my zipper. I slide thece aside and lick her. I take my time savoring the sweetness, how she shudders when I brush against her clit. The desperate cries she can’t hold back have my cock throbbing in anticipation.
When she starts to shake, I pull away, grinning.
“Mmm. Patience, Little Red,” I whisper, standing again, my lips slick with her arousal.
Her eyes ze with frustration. “You’re torturing me.”
“It’s worth the wait,” I mutter, spinning her around and bending her over the desk. “Arch that perfect pussy for me.”
She braces herself, palms t on the wood, ass high. I thrust my hand through her hair and grab a fist of it, tugging her head back, needing to hear her.
“Do you know who you belong to?”
“You,” she gasps, voice breaking. “I’m yours, Nick.”
Her confession burns through me.
“Now tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me,” she says, her voice almost strangled.
I free myself and drag the head of my cock along her slick folds, coating myself in her wetness, teasing until she’s whimpering.
“Please,” she begs.
That’s all I need.
I m into her in one hard thrust, burying myself to the hilt. She screams my name, her body clenching tight around me, and the sensation nearly undoes me.
“Yes, sweetheart.” I groan, gripping her hips and driving into her again—harder.
The desk shakes beneath us, her moans filling the room, and I know this isn’t just sex. It’s something deeper.
I thrust into her over and over, my hand still tangled in her hair, pulling her back against me. I want her to remember this, to feel me everywhere tomorrow. Her cries are desperate, broken, her body rocking with every m of my hips. I reach around, grabbing her breast.
“You were made for me,” I pant, leaning over her back, pressing my mouth to her ear. “Every inch of you.”
Her response is a sobbed moan, her body tightening, fluttering around me. And then she shatters, screaming my name,ing so hard that her legs quake. The sound, the feel of her pulsing around me, wrecks me.
I pound into her a few more times before I lose it, spilling deep inside her with a guttural groan. My vision blurs, my body convulses, and all I can do is hold her hair, her hips, like she’s the only thing keeping me tied to this reality.
When it’s over, we copse forward. My chest to her back, sweat dripping down my temples. I press a kiss to her shoulder, still buried inside her, unwilling to break away.
“That was amazing,” she whispers, still unable to catch her breath. “Exactly what I needed.”
“You’re amazing,” I say, kissing her neck.
I realize that I have everything I’ve ever needed with her. I want more of this. I want herugh, her fire, the way she challenges me. I want every piece of her. We break apart, and she turns around, sliding her skirt over her body. We’re still breathing hard, trying to straighten our clothes and the paperwork that’s scattered everywhere.
“We just …” Julie starts, thenughs.
“Made some memories in this office?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“You started it,” I tell her, tucking her hair behind her ears, then kissing her.
“And you finished it.” She grins, looking up at me. “I’m so lucky.”
“No, babe, I am.”
After our heart rates settle, we sit back at the desk and finish doing inventory. Every few minutes, we catch each other’s eye and smile like teenagers with a secret.
“Thank you,” she says.
“For?”
“For today. For all of it.”
“You never have to thank me for being there for you.”
She reaches over, taking my hand. “I know things are going to getplicated when Craig is served. But having you here with me … I feel safe.”
“You are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I promise.
An hourter, Julie submits the reports and ces the order for next week’s shipment. We walk out into the cool October night, holding hands. Not because anyone is watching, but because it feels right.
“Did you think it could be like this?” she asks.
“Only in my dreams,” I say.
As we stroll to her condo, I can’t shake the feeling that this peace we have won’tst and that something’sing. But for tonight, we’re together, and that has to be enough.