Chapter 49
Julian
After Saturday night’s dancing, I woke up to her knocking on my door Sunday morning, clutching shopping bags.
"You look like you’re about to sell me a timeshare," I joked, tugging at my own collar as we stepped out into the humid heat of Sarasota.
"Shut up, Julian," she sassed, adjusting her sunglasses. "You mentioned this place. You said you wanted to pick strawberries and taste local liquor like 'normal people.' So, we’re being normal. These outfits are normal."
I laughed and followed her. The orchard was a lush green labyrinth of fruit and heavy Florida air. We spent hours in the sun, staining our finger red with strawberries and just breathing.
"If you weren't filthy rich, and a whole different Julian, what would you be doing?" she asked out of nowhere.
I didn't have to think about it. "I’d find you in this imaginary world of yours, then marry you," I replied, pulling a stray leaf from her hair. "I’d stay home and be a father. If the money was gone, I’d just want to nurture something. I’d want to watch something grow."
She didn't say a word; she just pulled my head down and kissed me, her mouth tasting like strawberries and wine. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were dark with a familiar, predatory heat.
"That was sexy as fuck," she joked, her tone firm and low as she adjusted my polo. "It’s been a long time." Her hand slid under my shirt, dragging her nails over my abs, and it took everything in me not to tremble. “how about we sneak behind a tree and I let you fuck me fast and hard real quick.
My dick twitched and I was tempted. I let her hand linger for a few seconds before gently removing it from my skin. “The no-sex rule still applies, Elara. Don’t tease me.”
Elara and I had no problem connecting in the bedroom, but I wanted her heart and soul this time. I was going to earn them through means other than her body. She rolled her eyes and walked off toward the tasting area.
The owner’s daughter, a blonde in short denim cutoffs, was leading the liquor flight. Every time she handed me a glass, her fingers lingered on mine. She leaned over the counter, giving me a generous view of her breast, laughing at jokes I hadn't even finished making. I felt Elara shift beside me.
"He’s seen enough of the titties, lady. They’re nice, thank you for the view," Elara said. She anchored herself to my side, her hand sliding firmly around my waist, her thumb hooking into my belt loop.
The girl blinked, her smile faltering under Elara’s gaze. "I was just explaining the fermentation—"
"Who needs to understand fermentation? We’re here to drink strawberry brandy," Elara cut her off, her eyes narrowing. "What I don’t understand is why you keep touching my man’s hand. Move on." She shooed her away.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from howling with laughter. Elara was being territorial. Possessive. It was a complete reversal of our entire history, and it was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever experienced.
By the time we got back into the car, we were both "lit"—the local moonshine had a kick. Quinn pulled the car away from the orchard, and I looked at Elara. Her brown skin was flushed red from the sun and the spirits.
"Elara," I said, leaning my head back against the leather.
"What?"
"Did you ask or pay that farmer’s daughter to flirt with me?"
She didn't miss a beat. She didn't even look at me. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You did," I chuckled, reaching for her hand. "I thought about it. Women have approached me when you were there before and you did nothing. Now I’m convinced you paid her to throw herself at me just so you could play the jealous girlfriend. It isn’t in your nature to be envious. You were performing."
She finally turned to me, a slow, wicked grin spreading across her face. "Maybe I did," she whispered. "Did it feel good? Seeing me like that for you?"
I pulled her across the seat and into my lap, my hands finding the curve of her ass. I buried my face in her neck, breathing her in. "Yes," I rasped against her skin. "It felt fucking amazing."
She laughed triumphantly.