Chapter Sixteen
Corbin
On rare occasions, I have to fly out of town for a client meeting. Today is one of those rare occasions.
I zip up my suitcase and exhale slowly.
Three days. Not a lifetime, but long enough to feel like one.
I hate being away from Tate for more than two days, and knowing I won’t see him until the end of the week doesn’t sit right with me.
But this is my biggest account, and if I want to walk away from my dad’s company, I can’t afford to lose them.
If I worked for myself, I’d have more time for Tate. More control. More freedom.
More time to figure out what the hell I’m doing with Jules.
She told me she was going to paint while she processed everything between us, but she also made it clear she’s going to start dating eventually. Eventually is a ticking clock, and I don’t like the idea of running out of time.
Last week, when she curled into me in bed after Tate was sick, I knew— knew —that I would never crave anyone the way I crave her. Now I understand why I’ve never been able to move on. She still has all of me, completely . And the worst part? I don’t even mind.
But just because we want each other doesn’t mean we’ll work. We tried before. We failed. And my dad? He’s the biggest obstacle between us. If I removed him from the equation, then it’s just Jules and me standing in our own way.
I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends as frustration creeps in. I’ve never been great at fighting for things. If something felt too hard, I walked away. I let it go. I told myself it wasn’t worth it.
But this is Jules.
A few days apart might be a good thing . Maybe distance will help me figure out exactly what it is I want.
I hurry down the stairs, my mind already on the airport, when I stop short.
Tate’s jacket hangs on the coat rack in the entryway.
It’s fine. He doesn’t need it . He has a million coats. It’s not like he’s going to freeze without this one.
But I could stop by the coffee shop and drop it off to Jules. Just in case.
What if he needs this exact jacket and he doesn’t have it?
It’s a split-second decision. I grab the jacket, lock the door behind me, and head for the car.
By the time I pull out of the driveway, I know the truth.
The jacket could’ve waited three days. I just didn’t want to.
I’m on autopilot as I drive to the coffee shop.
I dropped Tate off at school this morning after we had a big breakfast together.
He had a hard time saying goodbye, but I promised to bring him something back from my trip, and that seemed to do the trick.
We hugged for a long time before Leo hollered for him from the playground.
I wasn’t going to say goodbye to Jules.
But here I am.
I park in front of the coffee shop and take a deep breath before gripping the door handle and shoving it open.
The moment I step inside, the familiar smell of roasted coffee beans and warm pastries settles over me, grounding me. But then, Sarge shoots me a death glare from behind the counter.
I ignore him, scanning the shop for Jules.
Connie spots me first. She quirks an eyebrow, then smirks as she jerks her chin toward the office. “She’s doing payroll.”
I nod and head down the hall, fully aware that Sarge hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
Jules is sitting behind her desk when I reach the doorway, head down, completely focused as she signs a check.
I knock lightly.
Her head snaps up, hazel eyes widening in surprise. “Corbin?”
I hold up Tate’s jacket. “Didn’t know if he’d need it while I was gone.”
Jules exhales a soft laugh as she stands, her expression shifting into something warm. “You could’ve just texted.”
Yeah. I could’ve.
But we both know why I didn’t.
She rounds her desk, stopping just in front of it, leaning back against the edge. Her hair is up today, exposing the elegant curve of her neck. A neck that I really shouldn’t be thinking about kissing right now.
I swallow that thought as she holds out her hand. I pass her the jacket, watching as she clutches it to her chest, as if creating some kind of barrier between us.
She’s never done that before.
“I’m sorry I had to cancel family dinner this week,” I say, dragging my gaze from the jacket to her face.
Jules gives me a small smile. “It’s okay. We’ll have an extra fancy one next week.”
“Extra fancy?” I raise a curious eyebrow.
She shrugs, a teasing glint in her hazel eyes. “I was thinking maybe we could go out? Take Tate to get pizza or something.”
“That’s a good idea.”
She nods, shifting her weight slightly. “We should talk about Tate’s party Saturday.”
I have a plane to catch, but somehow, that fades into the background.
“What can I help with?” I ask.
“Can you help me set up decorations?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Jules sighs dramatically, rubbing her forehead. “He chose snakes as his theme.”
I smirk. “I take it you’re thrilled about that?”
“Oh, beyond thrilled.” She groans. “And he would really like a snake for his present.”
I bite back a laugh. “A real one?”
She gives me a deadpan look.
“I’ll look into getting the snake,” I assure her, trying to suppress my amusement.
Jules scrunches her nose. “I don’t want to take care of a snake, Corbin. And I can’t ask you to do something I’m unwilling to do.”
“I’ve been researching,” I tell her. “They’re not that hard to take care of. Especially the smaller ones.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re actually considering this?”
I shrug. “I mean, if Tate wants one…”
She groans again, dropping her head back, exposing more of her neck. Damn it, Corbin, focus.
“It’ll be fun,” I lie.
Jules lifts her gaze, her hazelnut eyes warm and expressive. “It will not be fun. Not at all. Tate says they eat mice.”
“Frozen, dead mice.”
Her mouth drops open. “Like that makes it any better?”
I laugh. “I’m not sure.”
Then, realization dawns on her, and her face shifts from mild horror to concern. “Wait. Your flight. What time do you have to be at the airport?”
“In a few,” I say cryptically.
Her lips press together like she knows I’m cutting it close. “Tate’s going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss him.” You, too, Jules.
She tilts her head, searching my face before offering, “As soon as you get home, I’ll drop him off?”
“I get in late Wednesday, so I’ll just pick him up from school on Thursday if that works?”
Jules nods. “Yeah, he’ll like that.”
A beat passes.
“I should, uh, get going,” I say reluctantly.
She licks her lips and pushes off the desk, dropping Tate’s jacket on the wooden surface as she steps closer. Then, she lifts her arms, wrapping them around my neck as she hugs me.
Despite the fact that I’m really running behind, I slide my arms around her waist and draw her in, pressing her against me. She smells like vanilla and something softer—something distinctly Jules. Home .
“Have a safe trip,” she whispers against my shoulder, her breath warm on my skin.
Her neck is right there, totally exposed. And I shamelessly inhale her before pressing my lips to the delicate curve where her jaw meets her throat.
I expect her to pull away. But she doesn’t.
Instead, she holds on tighter, her fingers curling into my dress shirt, like she doesn’t want me to leave. My nose trails down the column of her neck, feeling her shiver in my arms. Then, she lifts her head, and our eyes meet.
I want to kiss her. God, I know she wants me to kiss her.
But she’s supposed to be painting and processing.
So, instead, I press a lingering kiss to her forehead.
She exhales against me, soft and sweet.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Corbin?” a sharp voice cuts through the moment.
Jules quickly untangles herself from me, stepping back like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
I don’t have to turn around to know who’s standing in the doorway.
Sarge .
And he doesn’t look happy.
“We’re getting busy up front,” Sarge says, his eyes never leaving Jules’ face. “We could use your help.”
Jules hesitates, her gaze flicking to mine before she slips past me and out the door.
There’s something about the way Sarge acts that pisses me off. He doesn’t get to make her feel bad for a moment that wasn’t his to judge. He doesn’t get a say in what her life looks like. It’s hers, not his.
“What’s your problem?” I ask, my voice even but sharp.
He has the audacity to smirk. “Go home, Corbin. No one wants you here.”
I exhale slowly, forcing myself not to take the bait. “You may not like that I’m in Jules’ life for the rest of it, but stop making her feel like shit about it.”
Sarge lets out a humorless laugh. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who divorced her because she didn’t fit Daddy’s perfect mold of a wife.” His eyes darken. “You’re such an ass, Corbin.”
I set my jaw. I knew Sarge had opinions about me, but I didn’t realize he’d been sharpening them like knives, just waiting for the chance to use them.
“You left her all alone,” he snaps. “She had nothing. And now you want to play house again? You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you didn’t break her. That’s all you ever did. Make her feel bad about who she was and how difficult it was for her to fit into your world.”
The line lands like a punch to the chest.
All I ever did was make her feel bad about herself?
That’s not… That’s not how I remember it.
But maybe it doesn’t matter how I remember it.
Sarge crosses his arms, not giving me a second to recover. “You can plan all the family dinners you want. You can make up excuses about Tate to stop by and toy with her emotions, but give her room to move on, man.” His tone is steel. “What you’re doing is cruel.”
“I’m not doing anything,” I say, but it doesn’t come out as strong as I want it to.
Sarge scoffs, shaking his head. “No. You just sleep with her and keep coming back for what? More?”
She told him that we slept together?
“We were friends once,” I remind him, my voice even. “You know I’m not toying with her. I love her. I’ve always loved her.”
Sarge scoffs. “You have a real shitty way of showing it.” His arms fold tight across his chest. “Now, get on your plane and get out of the way.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. “Get out of the way of what?”
He smirks, like he’s got the upper hand. “She’s dating Trey.”
The words land with a dull thud in my chest, but I recover quickly.
She’s not dating Trey. She’s supposed to be painting. She told me herself. Maybe Sarge doesn’t know everything. Maybe she doesn’t tell him everything.
I exhale slowly, nodding like I’m unaffected. “Yeah, I’ll see you when I get back, Sarge.” I pat his shoulder in a way I know will piss him off. “Tate’s birthday party and all.”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t stop me as I step past him.
Jules meets me at the exit, pushing it open as Sarge’s death glare follows us out into the cool morning air.
“What did he say?” she asks, her voice laced with hesitation. “Whatever it was, I—”
I cup her cheek, my thumb grazing along the sharp line of her jaw, grounding both of us in the moment.
“I’ll see you on Saturday for Tate’s birthday,” I murmur.
She swallows, her breath catching as she leans into my touch. “Have a safe flight.”
“I will.”
Reluctantly, I let my hand fall away and head to my car. Jules lingers on the sidewalk, her arms wrapping around herself as she watches me go. As I pull out of the parking spot, she lifts a hand in a small wave.
I don’t know what’s going on with Sarge, but if he thinks I’m staying away from Jules, he’s dead wrong.