Chapter Twenty #2
Cierra awoke to the sounds of bird calls, nestled against Julian.
He was softly snoring, and his arms temporarily tightened around her waist when they sensed her movements.
She could feel the warmth of his skin and the light tickle of his chest hairs against her bare back, and knew that she could wake up this way, exactly, for the rest of her life.
The clock on the wall alerted her it was still fairly early, seven thirty, but the soft light coming in through the windows was calling to her. Plus, she was dying for caffeine.
“I’m gonna go downstairs and make some coffee, no need to get up,” she murmured to Julian, who lazily smiled with his eyes still closed, muttering something incomprehensible but agreeable in tone.
She rinsed off the sweat from the previous night in a quick shower and threw on a peach-colored linen set and sandals before exploring the house on her own.
They had barely made it through dinner before racing back upstairs the prior evening, so she hadn’t appreciated the level of thought that had clearly gone into the interior design.
There wasn’t a taxidermy head or a plaid quilt in sight. This place was exquisite and had obviously benefitted from a woman’s touch. It was hard to imagine that, not even a year ago, he might have been having a very similar weekend with his ex-wife.
Slowly making her way to the refrigerator, she remembered what Mia had told her about getting some fun video footage.
She checked her email, just in case, but the only new messages were from a few clothing brands, alerting her of new drops.
No Plated updates. With the wind out of her sails, she put her phone in her pocket and reoriented her attention to an issue that was more pressing: coffee.
After rummaging through some of the cupboards, she found the mugs and a tin of velvety espresso grounds.
She made herself a steaming cup before letting herself out the front door and walked in a circular path around the house.
First, she photographed a stunning view of the home, reflecting the bright summer morning in all its glory.
Then she continued walking in a clockwise direction, noticing some old bikes left to the side of the house.
Onward, she saw the back of the home, which was extensive and even had its own garden.
Taking off her shoes, she wandered over to a dirt patch, which was guarded by garden fencing, and saw flowering vegetable plants — even ripening watermelons, which she was definitely going to be enjoying later.
Quickly, she noted on her phone to check if they had any limes or fresh mint in the house.
Many of her younger followers asked for summer drink recipes, and this would be perfect as a refresher, or could even become a cocktail.
She whipped out her phone and took short videos of the quaint garden, the old bikes, the house, even a close-up of a blanket flower with a deep red interior and yellow-gold petal tips.
It was trickier getting into the garden, but she managed a quick face-to-camera shot with her holding one of the massive melons, its green stripes contrasting perfectly against the peachy coral tones of her shirt.
Virtually interacting with new people and having a more communal approach with her recipes gave Cierra a sense of purpose she hadn’t known was missing.
When she’d first started making the videos, it felt like a chore, a necessary evil only serving as a means to her new pursuits.
Now, it felt like just as much of a creative outlet as it did a business strategy.
A year ago, during the summer, she had been getting heat rash in a stuffy kitchen.
Now, she was playing in the dirt and laughing with a piece of fruit.
And in a cheesy way, while the content she made was curated, it wasn’t on behalf of someone else.
It was her. That’s what people connected with.
When she got back to the house, Julian was shirtless in a pair of light blue sweatpants, sipping from a clay mug.
“This coffee is great, Cee. What did you do?”
“Just added some cinnamon, the usual.”
He walked over and wrapped his arms around her, perching his head on top of hers. “Nothing is usual with you. Thanks for letting me sleep in by the way, didn’t realize how much I needed it.”
“No problem, you know I like alone time in the mornings.”
“That’s very true,” he replied. He went back to retrieve his mug and opened the fridge, pulling out fruit and yogurt. “Any salacious details about your solo morning you’d like to share?” he teased.
“Unfortunately, it was pretty wholesome. I explored the grounds a little more, took some pictures and videos of the garden and forest and stuff . . . Oh! And I saw the bikes. I was thinking we could—”
Julian’s head cocked to the side, and he quickly closed the fridge door. “Wait, did you post any photos? Photos of my house?”
Thrown off by his concerned tone, she spluttered a bit before replying, “No, just took some pictures and footage. I haven’t posted anything, but I did want to make a quick video featuring the water—”
Julian was shaking his head. “You can’t just take photos and videos in people’s homes without telling them. Why wouldn’t you ask me first?”
Cierra pursed her lips together and balled her hands. Of course she should have asked him. It’s what she always did with events and personal trips. She shouldn’t have assumed. It was his house, after all. She was a guest.
“I . . . I’m sorry. I get why you’re upset. It’s your private home, and I should’ve been more thoughtful. But I didn’t post anything, and I won’t, promise.”
The lines on Julian’s tanned forehead relaxed, his face reverting to the friendly, handsome demeanor she was used to. “I’m not trying to be a paranoid dick. I’m just a private person, you know? I don’t even have social media.”
“Yeah, I know,” Cierra teased, which elicited an understanding smile from Julian.
“Listen, I get this is a big part of your world. I just like to keep mine off the web. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” she said, walking over to him. “We good?”
They kissed, and Cierra could taste the aromatic notes of coffee and cinnamon.
“Of course. And yes, I’d love to go on a bike ride.”