According to a late-night Sunday text from Sam, Julian wakes up at five a.m. and works out at his home gym before stopping by the Angry Rooster Café for a cup of iced coffee. Sam, who was sworn to secrecy about the surprise, promised me that the best place to intercept Julian would be at the coffee shop.
So I begrudgingly wake up at the crack of dawn, get dressed, and head over to the coffee shop before he gets there.
“Hey.” I wave from my spot at the back of the empty café.
“Dahlia?” Julian stares at me with a pinched expression.
“Morning.”
“What are you doing up this early?”
I take a long sip of my iced coffee. “I’ve decided to take a stab at being a morning person.”
“And how’s that going for you?”
“Ask me again after my next cup of coffee in ten minutes.”
“How many have you had?”
“Not enough to make me want to talk to you at six a.m.” He heads over to the register and places an order for two iced coffees the way I taught him while I drain the rest of mine and dump the empty cup in the nearby trash bin.
He returns with our two drinks. “Here. Can’t risk you starting off the morning with only one cup.”
I could blame my escalating heart rate on the steady stream of espresso pumping through my veins, but then I’d be lying.
“Thanks,” I manage despite the tightness in my throat.
The gesture is as sweet as the drink I take a sip of. While I chalked up his taking care of me the other night to being nice, this feels like so much more.
Go with the flow, Dahlia.
Easier said than done. I’ve never been that kind of person, thanks to my anxiety and chronic overthinking, so I’m not exactly one to roll with the punches and throw caution to the wind.
If I’m going to crash and burn, Julian isn’t my first choice for an eyewitness, but at least he knows me well enough to expect the worst.
Nice job finding the silver lining.
I have an extra bounce in my step as I follow Julian out of the coffee shop. Main Street is dead, with a majority of the shops remaining closed for the post-Harvest Festival blues, also known as cleanup day.
By the time we make it halfway to Julian’s office, I’m trembling from the slight chill in the air and the iced coffee in my hand.
“You good?” He peeks over at me.
“Yup. Just cold.” I struggle with a button on the front of my pink tweed jacket.
His suggestive gaze explores my body. “Where’s your coat?”
“It clashed with my outfit.”
Julian catches me off guard as he places his iced coffee on a nearby bench and sheds his coat. He grabs my cup and does the same before helping my right arm into the sleeve of his jacket.
Two sweet gestures in a span of ten minutes? If this is the kind of treatment I get after a make-out session, I can’t imagine what will happen once I finally suck his cock.
“Do you plan on sticking around for winter now that the TV deal fell through?” Julian’s loaded question seems to kill two birds with one stone as he fixes the jacket to cover my broken arm.
I nudge him with my hip. “Why? Are you trying to get rid of me already?”
“I haven’t gotten started with you yet.” His tongue darts out to trace his bottom lip.
My body floods with warmth, banishing the chill.
Who needs a winter coat when a few sentences from Julian have my temperature spiking like I’m running a fever?
When we stop outside his office building, he doesn’t make a comment about the blinds being closed as he pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and incorrectly interprets the reason for my trembling fingers, swapping my iced coffee for his key.
“Open the door.”
Despite my shakiness, I unlock the door on the second try. I step inside and flip the switch as Julian crosses over the entryway.
The Christmas lights reflect off his dark eyes and face, basking him in a warm glow as he takes in the lobby. “Holy shit.”
Out of all the pranks we have pulled on each other over the years, this might be my absolute favorite, and that’s saying something since I managed to temporarily dye his skin blue during high school.
“When did you do all this?” He walks up to Sam’s gift-wrapped desk.
“Lily and our moms helped yesterday morning before the festival.”
“My mom was in on this?”
“How else would we have gotten a key after you banned Sam from lending me his?”
He tries so hard to frown, but it’s a losing battle against the smile slowly stretching across his face as he takes in the array of decorations mounting the walls, furniture, and fireplace behind Sam’s desk.
“Do you hate it?” I ask.
“With every fiber of my being.”
“Will you tear it down?”
“Come January first.”
I laugh. “Wait until you see your office.”
He ditches both our coffee cups on Sam’s desk before taking off down the hall toward his private office suite. I have to run to keep up with his long strides, but luckily, I make it in time to see his face as the door swings open.
His eyes widen. “Damn.”
Julian’s office looks like the bargain bin section of a holiday store, with the obscene nutcrackers lining the shelves behind his desk and the eight-foot inflatable lawn decoration of Santa riding a dinosaur.
A nice touch, if I do say so myself.
He quickly turns his attention toward the tree standing in the corner beside the window facing the road.
He shakes his head hard enough to ruffle his perfectly styled hair. “This is the tackiest setup I’ve ever seen.”
“I know.”
“It could be your best prank yet, but I have to check my list.”
His admission makes my cheeks warm. “You think so?”
He smiles at me, and I lose all train of thought.
“Not better than the time I snuck your car onto that floating dock and anchored it to the middle of the lake, but close enough.”
I grin at the memory. “You haven’t seen the ornaments I picked out yet.”
Julian motions me toward the tree, and I spend the next five minutes showing off all the ornaments I chose, earning a couple of deep chuckles from the formidable man beside me.
He carefully places them back on the branch. “I can’t believe my mother was in on this.”
My laugh steals his attention from the tree. “In on it? She was practically running the whole operation once I told her about my idea.”
“Did you have fun?”
“Tons.”
“Good.” He steps toward me.
“What are you doing?” I take a step back.
“You had your fun, so now it’s my turn.”
“Julian…”
He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and slams his lips against mine, killing my protest with a single kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Julian
I wanted to kiss Dahlia since I saw her sitting by herself, sipping on a cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone, doing God knows what at six a.m.
Dahlia isn’t a morning person, which should have been my first clue that something was wrong.
Her prank was great—master level even—but I can barely appreciate it when all I can think about is kissing her stupid.