26. Julie
Julie
"A gentleman holds my hand. A man pulls my hair. A soulmate will do both." – Alessandra Torre
I love my coffee shop. I do. But right about now, I wish I could call in sick at work to go hang out with my boyfriend.
Boyfriend. I’m still processing that turn of events but there’s no denying how happy I am. Griffin is right—we can just take it one day at a time.
There’s no rush. We don’t need to make any crazy plans just yet.
He doesn’t need to know that I have our whole wedding and kids’ names planned out…
Nope, that would not be one day at a time, and I have a feeling Griff needs it to be one day at a time.
With all the changes he just went through with the Air Force and moving back home and the new job, he needs some stability.
Maybe we shouldn’t see each other so much, though? Because I’ve always been the go, go, go type. I get an idea to make something, next thing I know, I’m buying the supplies whether I know how to make it or not. And I’m afraid I might do the same here.
But all these thoughts fly out the window when his brown hair, those liquid brown eyes, and broad shoulder step through the front door of my shop.
His eyes take all of one second to find mine and his charming smile warms my insides. I can’t believe I almost walked away from that smile the morning after our blind date.
“Griffin? What are you doing here? It’s not four yet,” I tell him.
“I know.” His lips twitch in the corners. “But I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Didn’t you just get off work?” I look up at the clock and sure enough it’s noon time.
“Yeah, mind if I stick around until you have to close?”
“No, I don’t mind at all,” I answer giddily.
“Okay, so where do you need me?” he asks, and I blink at the question.
“What do you mean? You can sit anywhere you like.”
“No, I mean give me something to do.”
“What? Griff, you just got off shift!”
“And? Look at that line.” He gestures to the fast-growing number of people. “But I have to warn you, I’m not good at making coffee or cooking so maybe I can wash the dishes?”
“You’re serious,” I gape.
“Of course I am. I’m in it with you no matter what we are doing.”
Be still my heart.
This man, this gorgeous man, my brother’s best friend I’ve had a crush on forever wants to wash dishes just to help me out.
“Birdy.” His voice changes. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, we’ll either have to close the shop or give your customers a free show with their coffee.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you’re considering what routine we should do.”
Liquid fire spreads through my blood at the sound of his words and every inch of me now feels extra sensitive, extra desperate to feel him. The memory of all the routines he did on me the other night flashing in front of my eyes like delicious torture.
God, I can still feel the size of him in between my thighs. A second later there is a low, warning groan coming from the man in front of me and it’s that low groan of his that has me shifting on my feet.
Who knew that could be so hot.
“Don’t tempt me, little J.” He steps closer, his mouth right at the shell of my ear.
“You might know my sweet and chickenshit sides, but you’ve yet to meet the one that wants to rip that sweet dress off your body, spread you wide open on that counter behind you, and slam as deep as I can into you.
So deep, so hard, the entirety of Loverly Cave would know who you belong to now. ”
Oh, sweet- daisies-holy-radishes and all the rest of the saint herbs…
“D-dishes,” I stutter, trying to piece my brain together. “Dishes are over there.” I point a shaky finger over to the arching doorway before I can do something stupid like slip the strap of my dress down for him. To make it easier.
With another heated look, he turns his glorious back at me and struts through the archway. I’m shaking my head, wearing a bright blush on my face when Lia elbows me to take the next customer.
Thankfully, I get lost in the routine that is my work and not think about sex with Griffin. Much.
For some reason, today is extra busy and when I glance at the clock a whole hour has passed already.
“What’s wrong?” Griff asks, sliding behind me out of nowhere, his hands damp and warm from all the dishes he washed.
“No, nothing. I just need to go water my plants at home and this line is not getting any smaller. The lunch rush should’ve dwindled by now.” I feel my forehead creasing.
It’s not ultra-important, but I like to take good care of my plants. They are my babies and some of them have very specific needs.
“Did you leave your front door open again?”
“What?” I turn my head to look at Griffin.
“I’ll go water your plants, little J. So, is the door open as usual? Inviting all the criminals into your home?”
I huff out a laugh. “The worst that could happen is finding one of the Love Hive activists in my home.”
“Like I said…criminals. Organized ones too.”
This time I can’t help the laugh bursting out of me. He is dead serious too. And maybe a little right.
“Yeah, it’s open. Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask when the giggles pass.
Griffin winds his arms around my waist, pulling me to his front and kisses my neck. His touch is tender, soft and I can’t help but melt into it. How does one man go from rough to soft, from a gentleman to a savage in a blink of an eye.
“I’m sure.” His hot breath tickles the wet skin of my neck, and I shiver.
“Okay.” My voice is breathless once again. It seems to be the new norm for me when I’m around Griffin. “It’s Ruth, Lady Anne, and Gisabelle that need the watering. Just half a cup each.”
Griffin shakes his head, amused. “Why am I not surprised you named your plants. Wait, doesn’t Jacob do that too?”
“Yep, he stole that idea from me.”
“Again, not surprised.” Griffin chuckles and leaves through the back door to my apartment above.
Just like that, without another word, he simply went to do what I needed. My head was already spinning from the turn of events but now it feels like it’s in one of those racing cars. Taking sharp turns that threaten your life yet feel so euphoric you can’t stop.
And I don’t want it to stop.
Something new weaves through my chest when I see him walking away. Something close to hopeless hope and promises of the future. Slow, steady future.
“Ready to go?” Griff asks as I turn off the last light and he stuffs the broom back into the cleaning supplies closet.
“More than.” I smile. “Do you want to go out for an early dinner or back to my place? We can get something to go?”
“The second option please. All day, any day.” He smiles sheepishly. “I’d invite you to my place, but Lily’s attic has moved into my space, so there’s virtually no space there anymore.”
I frown. “What Lily? My Lily?” I point to my chest, confused.
Griff chuckles. “The one and only.”
“Wait, what do you mean her attic moved in?”
“Apparently, her and the girls”—he air quotes—“needed a space for a spiritual meeting the other day. Something about Jupiter’s houses and Jenny’s new gifts,” he waves around and places a hand on the small of my back, leading me out the door.
“Anyway, she came by the station asking to help her move some boxes to her new shed.”
“What shed?” I turn my head toward him, still frowning. “My parents don’t have a new shed.”
“Exactly.” He gives me a look, and I know exactly what that means.
“Please tell me dad didn’t try and build one himself.”
“Oh, he most definitely did, but we stopped it before anything other than the materials got hurt.”
I groan.
My dad is the best father in the whole world.
He would garden with me, teach Callum how to shoot a paint gun, always patient and kind.
He’s brilliant when it comes to math and science and foreign languages.
I was always told I took after him in that regard, but give him a hammer and a nail and he’ll make the house fall apart.
Doesn’t stop him from trying it though. Every single time.
Griffin chuckles, wrapping a hand around my waist and kisses the side of my head. “Don’t worry. Luke and I will go out there tomorrow morning to start building it, but in the meantime the attic needed to be free to use. So I took most of the boxes to my place.”
I close my eyes real hard. Someone, please tell me Mom didn’t give him those boxes.
“I bet it’s just a bunch of old junk.”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t call it that.” There is something in his voice. Something that has my heart picking up its pace.
We just enter my apartment when I say, “Can I, um, see those boxes?”
“Why?”
“Oh, no reason. Just want to see what junk Mom collected.”
“There’s no junk, I checked.” Mischief! That’s what I heard in his voice earlier and it’s there again.
I slowly raise my eyes to his and see him grinning as wide as a Cheshire cat that also ate the canary.
“Oh, sweet daisies.” I bury my head in my hands. “Please tell me—”
“Yep, your journals were in there.”
“And how did you come to learn about them?” There is an eerie kind of tone to my voice right now.
“ Welll , one of the boxes might’ve—accidentally, I had nothing to do with it—tripped over and the contents might have spilled over the floor.”
“Mm-hmm.” Even my hums are high pitched. “And so, you gently put them all back, closed the box and never touched it again, right?”
“Welll…”
“Griffin.” Look at that, I didn’t know I could sound threatening.
“It’s all their fault! They fell and opened in the process and there was no way I was going to ignore my name written in heart and yours with my last name next to it.”
“Y-you…you read my diaries?” My voice hits a crescendo note as I sputter over here on the spot.
“Maybeeeee,” he draws out, unsure, puckering his lips in that cute way that shouldn’t even be cute right now!
“No, you did not!” I whisper hiss, taking a step toward him as he takes one back.