a.

"Someone whose best man must be clueless. I'm surprised all those guys were even able to make it," you tell Addy, handing over the last of her drinks from your place behind the bar. There has to be at least thirty guys attending the bachelor party. "Do you need help carrying them up?"

She looks over her shoulder, knocking her drooping Santa hat out of her field of vision. The loft overlooking the bar where you work is where parties are always held and the staircase to get up there tends to get crowded.

"No, I think I'm good. Thanks, though. I'm sure I'll be back in ten minutes with more orders," Addy replies, rolling her eyes. She stoops down and lifts the tray of drinks to balance on her shoulder, then begins to weave her way through the crowd.

It's busy. Always is before a holiday. People who are usually not in town come back to visit their families and, once relatives turn in for the night, they try to make plans to catch up with old friends. Given your bar is the favorite amongst the locals, it tends to be one of the busiest nights of the year. You and the other girls you work with have found over the years that dressing up a little earns you more tips from patrons who are already feeling rather generous and in the holiday spirit. Tonight is no exception. Wearing a Santa hat, a tight black tshirt, and a short velvet red skirt with a thick white trim to match your hat has already earned you more money tonight than you made all of last weekend combined.

It's so loud and you're so busy fielding as many requests as you can that you don't even hear the crash of glass until Addy returns with a sheepish look and a completely soaked shirt.

"I should've taken you up on that offer to help," she says, looking down at her ruined clothes. "I fucking reek of beer, oh my god."

"Oh, no! Here, I brought an extra change of clothes," you say, leaning under the bar for your tote bag.

"No, no, I can't do that! It's freezing out, you need your jeans for later."

"I'd rather you take my jeans for the night than leave me to handle that party upstairs," you say, shoving the bag into her arms. She gives you a grateful smile and hurries away to clean up. With the help from another girl, you remake the dropped drinks and volunteer to take them up yourself.

"Excuse me!" you shout over the music, pushing people out of the way with your free hand so they don't accidentally bump into your tray. You take the stairs carefully, sidestepping one of the busboys who is cleaning up the broken glass, and breathe a sigh of relief when you make it to the top unscathed.

A quick scan of the group tells you the men seem to be a few years older than you. Most are probably married or settled down in some way. Those are usually the best kind of bachelor parties—they aren't too rowdy and they tip well.

It seems like they just wrapped up eating and now are milling around the room. Some are staring at some sporting event on the television and pointing out had it not been for that pesky knee injury, they could have gone pro. Others are laughing at the mostly empty table over some story from their glory days. But one man unfortunately noticed you before the rest and stumbled over with a sloppy smile and reddened cheeks.

"Are you our new waitress or did you just get hotter since you left?" he slurs. You resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust and when you bend to set the tray of drinks down on the table, you try to be conscientious of your short skirt.

"Just thought I'd help Addy while she cleans herself up," you say, gaze cast down and focused on the drinks. But the guy doesn't take the hint.

"Aw, that's a shame. But you can hang out with us, yeah?"

You shake your head and blindly begin passing out the beers.

"I'm tending bar downstairs, I gotta get back, but I promise you're in good hands."

Stale breath sweeps across your cheek and he says—not as quietly as he thought—"Think I like your hands better, sweetheart."

Your back and forth must have pulled the attention of others because a boisterous conversation happening across the table dies down. You're trying not to look up for fear your face will give away your disgust, but when you hear a familiar voice, your head snaps up.

"Ho, Ho, Ho-ly shit!"

When you see Tommy Miller with the group in front of the television wearing a half buttoned flannel and a tacky button pinned to it that says, "I'm getting married, buy me a drink!", you smile and straighten up.

"Tommy!" You toss your arms around him for a big hug and it takes about five more seconds before you realize it:

If Tommy is here for his bachelor party, then that means...

"Joel! Look who it is!" Tommy turns with a cheeky grin, one arm still slung loose around your waist, the other pointing to you like Joel didn't already see you when you walked up the stairs.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to find him amongst the now mostly quiet group. Downstairs the music is still playing, people are shouting and laughing, yet for a second it all fades away when you lock eyes with Joel.

He's hard to read. Always has been. But his expression looks taught and you're pretty sure he's angrily chewing on the inside of his cheek as those soft, dark brown eyes flicker between you and his brother.

You clear your throat and take a step away from Tommy.

"Hey," you nod to Joel, voice obviously void of the excitement you harbored just a moment ago.

He grunts and looks away, then back up to his brother.

"This is why you picked this place?" he asks. You bristle, wishing you weren't working so you could give him a piece of your mind, but instead focus on distributing the rest of the drinks.

Tommy laughs. "No, no, it's just a good spot, is all."

"Did you know she worked here?"

You scoff under your breath but Joel still hears it.

"What?" he snaps. You roll your eyes.

"Like you didn't know I work here?"

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain't sittin' 'round thinkin' 'bout you."

As much as you wish it didn't hurt to hear the iciness in his tone, it does. You do your best to brush it off and hurry back downstairs, but then an unexpected hero comes to your rescue.

"Hey... that's why you look so familiar." Their friend, the one who was clearly way too drunk to process what was going on, spoke up. He points lazily at you and you look up. He's slowly piecing it together, you can see it, then his eyes light up when he figures it out. "You're the one in the, in the wallet! In Joel's wallet! Asked him—hey, hey, Joel—" He turns to find Joel glaring at him from his chair, arms pulled tightly across his chest. "She's the one from your wallet, 'member? When I was askin' earlier—"

"Shut the fuck up, Charlie!" Joel shouts.

"Alright, Joel, enough. Don't ruin my night, okay?" Tommy scolds. You have to stifle a grin when Joel's neck flushes bright pink with embarrassment and you figure that's enough payback for his shitty comment, so you collect your now empty tray with renewed confidence and fix the Santa hat on your head.

"Well, it was great seeing you, Tommy. Congrats," you say, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. You can practically feel the daggers Joel is staring into your back and you smirk to yourself before heading towards the stairs, throwing your hips a little more than usual so that your Santa skirt sways as you walk away.

When you make it downstairs and back behind the safety of your bar, you finally exhale a loud, shaky breath. One of the other girls notices and gives you a look of concern.

"Everything alright?"

You nod and snatch up a shot glass. Pouring from the closest bottle, you toss it back with a wince before answering.

"Yeah," you say, dragging the back of your hand across your mouth. "Just saw my ex-husband upstairs. Merry fucking Christmas to me."

---

It was a long night but mercifully, busy enough to keep your mind from dwelling too long on Joel. And after tip out, you made enough to cover half your rent for the month. Awkward encounter aside, it was a good night, but you're bone tired and freezing your ass off as you shuffle to your car across the empty parking lot in just that stupid Santa skirt.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you whine once you're inside your car, teeth chattering and hands shaking. Once the engine starts, you blast the heat, but your car is old as dirt and you know better by now than to expect the thing to actually heat up in less than the fifteen minutes it takes to get home.

The roads are empty, like they usually are at this hour. It's usually calming but tonight your fingers grip the steering wheel as you desperately try to warm yourself up.

Taking the back roads is quicker, so you always go that way. Hardly anyone ever takes these streets, especially in the middle of the night, so when your headlights flicker dim for a moment followed by a loud sputter from your exhaust, you know you're absolutely fucked.

"No!" you scream when the engine dies. You're able to slow down and steer just off the road so you're safe, but you're freezing even more and now on the verge of tears.

Once you're safely in park, you pick up your phone and groan.

"No signal," you mutter, but you try anyway. After the third attempt you give up and let the tears flow. All you want to do is go home, get under your covers, and pray that look Joel gave you earlier doesn't haunt your dreams. Instead, you're going to freeze to death on the side of some country road wearing a tiny Santa skirt and matching hat.

After about ten minutes of feeling sorry for yourself, you stop crying but don't bother to wipe the dried tears from your face. You're already about to have the worst night ever, who cares if you have mascara streaked down your cheeks?

Just when you're thinking about using fast food napkins as a blanket, you spot headlights in your review mirror and you gasp.

"Oh, my god!" You're scrambling to unbuckle your seatbelt so you can flag them down, but it turns out you don't need to—the truck slows and parks behind you, already anticipating your cry for help.

"Oh, thank god," you mutter, watching with relief as the shadow of your savior steps out of the truck. You lean back in your seat with a sigh. "Yes, yes, yes, yes—"

But when the man's broad body blocks the bright headlights, revealing an all too familiar face, your joy vanishes.

"No, no, no, no."

Joel leans down with a friendly smile and lifts his hand to knock on your window, but when he sees you, he freezes. His face immediately falls into a scowl and with a defeated sound, you open your door.

"Just leave me here, I'd rather die," you say.

Joel scoffs and steps back. He tries to catch himself, but you saw the quick once over he gave you before angling his body towards the woods—and even though you've been cursing this skirt since you stepped out of the bar, you're a teensy bit grateful for it now.

"Fine by me."

"I'll wait for someone else."

"Yeah? Dressed like that?" Joel nods angrily towards your ridiculous get up. "Gonna freeze to death but be my guest."

Then he turns to head back to his truck, boots crunching loudly over the snowy ground. You shift your weight and anxiously chew your bottom lip before throwing your hands in the air.

"Wait!"

Joel stops but doesn't turn. You take a deep breath.

"Can you... can you help me?" You hear how pathetic you sound and can only imagine how pleased he must be to have the upper hand.

"Yeah? Why should I do that?" he calls over his shoulder. You think about it for all of two seconds.

"For old times sake?"

Joel huffs. His shoulders tense and he begins to walk away, then you try again.

"Joel, please! It's Christmas!"

He skids to a stop with his hand on the door of his truck. From here, you can see his jaw work as he thinks things over. You wrap your arms around yourself and bounce from foot to foot, legs practically made of ice at this point. Finally, he sighs and turns to you.

"Fine."

He moves to open the backseat of his cab and you crane your neck, trying to see what he's doing. He shuts the door and heads back to your car carrying a toolbox.

"Get in the truck."

You squeak happily, grab your purse from the front seat, and hurry past him to his truck. Warmth wraps around you like a hug when you open the door and you could cry you're so happy. Rubbing your arms and legs while hovering near the fans, you desperately try to bring life back to your limbs while Joel pops the hood of your car.

Ten minutes and some feeling in your fingers later, Joel returns.

"I'm gonna give you a jump but it takes some time to charge the battery," he says from the backseat. He's rifling around for something under the driver's seat and you nod.

"Thank you."

He grunts and slams the door shut, and you watch as he takes jumper cables over to your car. He does something you can't see before he returns and hops behind the wheel. You sit in silence as Joel moves his truck then turns around so your cars are facing one another, then he slides back out to attach the cables to his own truck. The hood is popped so you can't really see him, but you can see his hands—the way they move, twisting cables, examining other foreign looking objects under the hood... he does it so smoothly, like he's done this a hundred times. He barely has to think about it. He's always been one of those men who learns things very fast. He's smart, you used to tell him so all the time, but he didn't think so, no matter how many times you pointed out what a remarkable memory he had or how he just had an innate ability to understand how something—or someone—works.

Heat flares between your legs and you quickly shut it down by forcing your attention elsewhere, but your mind wanders against your will, back to simpler times when you were young and in love, breathlessly telling Joel how amazing he was when he was making you fall apart with his fingers or mouth or—

"Alright. Got 'bout twenty minutes."

Joel climbs into the cab and shuts the door with a shudder. You watch as his hands cup the fans on his dashboard, capturing the heat between his palms before bringing his curled fists up to his mouth to exhale, warming them up faster.

You shiver and look away, then his gaze is back on you.

"You coulda died out here wearin' that."

"I know."

There's a pause. Then—

"What the hell were you thinkin'?"

You sigh and lean back into the worn grey fabric seat. "It wasn't my first choice. Your waitress dropped drinks all over herself so I gave her the clothes I was gonna change into after work."

You stare out the window as a thick silence settles between you once again. Just when you think this is going to be the longest twenty minutes of your life, Joel says something that surprises you.

"M'sorry, 'bout earlier."

Your brows shoot up in shock and you look at him, but he's staring straight ahead, like what he's saying is causing him actual pain.

"Shouldn'tve been rude. Just took me by surprise, is all."

You're speechless. The last thing you expected from him was an apology, you're not prepared at all, but you know you need to say something because too much time is stretching on and Joel is starting to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"It's okay," you finally say. His eyes dart to lock with yours and in that moment you swear you can see the man you fell in love with all those years ago, buried somewhere underneath all that gruff. The longer he stares at you the faster your heart races and you can't stop the shiver that rolls down your spine. Joel sees it and frowns.

"You're cold, here," he says, shrugging off his oversized brown coat. Before you can protest he has it wrapped around your shoulders, and when you inhale his warm, comforting scent, your eyelids flutter shut and you shamelessly bury your nose into the collar.

The corner of his mouth lifts but he turns his face away before you see it.

"So, uh... how long you been workin' there?" He's staring down at the speedometer like it holds some valuable information—anything to find a reason to avoid your eye.

"Three years," you tell him. "But I also substitute teach for Oakmont Elementary."

Joel hums. "I can see you doin' that. You'd be good at that."

You grin, trying to hide it behind his coat. "It's fun, I don't mind it."

"You thinkin' 'bout doin' it full time? Bein' a teacher?" When he looks at you now it's so soft and sweet that you temporarily forget all the pain you went through together.

"I'd have to go back to school, I don't know..."

Joel shrugs. "You could do it. Always were good in school."

Your cheeks warm under the compliment. "It'd be a lot of work. Going to class during the day, working at night. That's hard."

"Yeah, but when you stick your mind to somethin', you just do it. Never let anythin' stop you before."

He graces you with a shy smile for the first time all night and you have to look away or else you're afraid you might say something stupid.

Change the subject, you think.

"Did Tommy have fun tonight?"

"Oh, yeah," Joel says, leaning back in his seat with a light grin. "Just dropped him off, as a matter of fact. Shitfaced like you'd expect. Almost wandered into his neighbor's house."

"Ah, so that's why you're out so late."

"Promised him I wouldn't drink so I could get 'em home."

"Well, that's nice, considering the shit he pulled for your bachelor party."

It's a risky move bringing up anything related to your marriage, you knew that. But he just seems so relaxed and you're finally getting the warmth back in your toes and feeling much better than you were thirty minutes ago, so you go for it. And Joel pauses, taken off guard, but then he chuckles low and deep, the sound causing a familiar pull between your legs.

"My god," he murmurs, then rolls his head to the side to give you a look. "To this day I ain't ever hear a woman bring a man to his knees the way you did to me and him that night. Never saw you so mad."

"I warned you—no strippers."

"And I told you I didn't touch any of 'em."

You throw your head back and laugh, missing the way Joel's gaze lingers on the curve of your neck, the plushness of your lips, the smoothness of your skin.

"Bullshit, Joel Miller! You can tell me the truth, we're not married anymore."

When you find his eyes again, there's an energy that pulls between you and it suddenly feels like no time at all has passed.

"I ain't lyin'," he swears, palms up in the air. "The other guys did but I didn't. Scout's honor."

"Yeah, okay," you say, rolling your eyes, but you can't erase the smile he put there a moment ago.

"I didn't need another reason for your old man to hate me, I did what I was told," he says, hand over his heart. You giggle and shake your head.

"Oh, I don't think that would have mattered much. He never liked you."

Joel grins and lets his gaze drift as a comfortable silence settles in the cab.

"I heard he passed a few years back. M'sorry," he says softly, and you meet his eye once again. He looks genuinely sympathetic, despite everything your father did to tear you apart.

"Thanks."

"What was it?"

"Cancer," you tell him, then shrug one shoulder like it didn't mean anything when you both knew it did.

"Ah, shit," he sighs. "You livin' in that house?"

"Nah. Couldn't do it. I sold it," you say, staring down at your hands tangled in your lap. Joel makes a sound like he understands and he lets it go, lets the quiet envelope you once again like he knew you just needed a few minutes to think. He was always good at reading you, you never forgot that.

"I'm sorry, too," you tell him. You hear him twist his head to look at you but you keep your face angled down. "For the way he treated you. He was never good to you, Joel, and I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's alright. No need to be sorry."

You sniffle and finally raise your chin with glassy eyes. "It's not alright. He said some horrible things to you—"

"He was just scared for his little girl," Joel says, extending a hand across the seat to rest carefully on your knee. "Didn't like some guy six years older than her sniffin' around, had you sneakin' out and shit... hell, lookin' back, I don't blame 'em."

"Well, I do. I blame him," you mumble. Then, to your dismay, one lone tear streaks down your cheek when you add, "Am I horrible? For not forgiving him for what he did to us?"

Joel's eyes widened and his hand instantly lifts from your knee to cup your face. "No," he breathes with a light shake of his head, "No, you ain't horrible. Don't think that."

His thumb brushes over your cheek and you close your eyes.

Well, there's no going back now, you figure. Might as well go all in.

"Why didn't you fight for me, Joel?" you whisper, lower lip trembling. Your eyes slowly open and two more tears fall. "Why didn't you—"

"'Cause I couldn't come between you 'n your family," he says urgently, his own eyes darting back and forth across your face like it was of the utmost importance you understood. "He was gonna disown you. Said he'd never speak to you again unless we got a divorce. And I couldn't be the reason that happened, honey, I just couldn't—"

"But you were my family," you whimper. "I only wanted you."

"I wanted you, too," he says back, voice strained like he's holding back tears. "Thought I was doin' the right thing by lettin' you go. I was young and dumb and scared, I just wanted you to be happy."

"Well, I wasn't," you confess, and one of your hands comes up to curl around his, still pressed gently against your cheek. His hands are big and a little rough, just like you remember, and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch. "I cried for years over you, Joel," you whisper, "Every time I'd hear someone mention your name or I'd see a sign or truck for your business I'd get so fucking angry. Do you know why?"

You force your eyes back open and through the unshed tears, you see him shake his head.

"I hated the idea of you out there, living your life, meeting new people, meeting new girls and forgetting all about me when I could hardly get out of bed most days."

"You meant everythin' to me," he says, jaw tight as he leans closer across the seat. "Still do."

A sob lodges in your throat, but you swallow it down and force out the question that's been on your mind for years.

"Then why are you always so fucking cold to me whenever I see you? Like tonight?"

"'Cause seein' you reminds me of the biggest mistake I ever made, and I fuckin' hate myself for lettin' you go."

The confession falls from his mouth like it had been waiting there for years to be said. No hesitation whatsoever. Just raw emotion packed behind years of regret. You don't know what to do with it, what to say. You just stare at one another, searching each other's eyes like you could find the answers to your problems right there until it dawns on you at the same time—that maybe you never really had any problems at all, aside from meeting a little too young and moving a little too fast.

But nothing is holding you back anymore. You're not freshly out of high school marrying a guy who was struggling to start a construction business with his baby brother. You both have five years of wisdom now, and even after all that time, those feelings you have for Joel still burn hot under your skin.

And that has to mean something.

"Joel?" you whisper, and his brows pitch up ever so slightly in response. His shoulders still like he's holding his breath, waiting for you to say it. So you do.

"Kiss me."

A breathless sound slips past your lips when his mouth presses firmly over your own, but just as quickly as you feel him, he pulls back. His eyes find yours and he searches, like he's looking for an answer to a question he's too scared to ask. You gaze back at him with tear soaked cheeks and a trembling lip, hoping he sees what you feel. Then his throat bobs and his shoulders sag like a weight has been lifted and his mouth finds yours once again.

Desperation fills the cab of his truck. Your mouth falls open and his tongue slides smoothly against yours, never missing a beat. His fingertips dig into your cheek and you pull him forward by his flannel, searching for more. The sharp brush of his beard rubs into an upward motion against your lips and you know he's smiling at your eagerness.

"C'mere," he mumbles before both his hands find your waist and he leans back, hauling you over the seat and into his lap without breaking the kiss. He pushes his coat past your shoulders and tosses it behind him, giving himself better access to your body.

It's all happening so fast that when his hands skate slowly down your sides to curve and cup your ass under your skirt, you jump like a frayed wire. Every nerve ending is alight, as if your body has been waiting all these years to be brought back to life by his touch.

"Easy," he chuckles in between kisses, "it's just me. Just me, baby."

It nearly destroys you. Joel—your first and probably only real love is right here, back in your arms. You kiss him harder and he groans, needy tongues swirling together like you may run out of air.

"Joel—" you gasp, but he cuts you off.

"Christ, I missed you." His mouth sloppily sears over yours with a groan before separating again. "Missed you so much. Then I finally see you and..." His gaze flicks down but you're too busy trailing a path of wet kisses down his neck. "And you're wearin' this slutty little thing. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout it... c'mere." His chin drops to seek out your mouth and you let him, moaning softly when your lips reconnect. He kisses like a madman, you always loved that about him. Every kiss feels like it's important, like he needs to show you how he feels because there are no words in existance that do it justice.

"You should see what I wear to work on Valentine's Day," you giggle when he gives you a second to breathe.

"Can't wait."

Then he quiets you with another deep kiss.

Can't wait. Can't wait. Two simple words that hold so much meaning. Two words that assure you whatever happens tonight won't be a one time thing. It sets your heart on fire and you whine into his mouth when his hands dig into the curve of your hips, pulling you down harder into his lap.

Joel leans back with a filthy grin so he can watch you drag your hips back and forth, over his cock straining against his zipper.

"Shit. Christmas came early," he mumbles in a daze as he continues to watch you move.

"That better be the only thing that comes early," you tease before clutching his face in your hands for another lust soaked kiss. And even though there's no real rush, your hands move hastily anyway. They slip between your bodies as your tongue dips into his mouth and he groans when your palm presses over his aching cock. His own slide back under your skirt to wrap around your underwear and he tugs, growing frustrated with the thin piece of fabric.

"Take these off," he demands roughly.

"There's no room," you say, biting at his scruffy chin. "Your steering wheel is digging into my ass."

With one harsh, loud tear, your underwear fall loose. You gasp and open your heavy eyes to watch him pull the black shreds from between your legs, then he tosses it somewhere behind his seat.

"Joel! I already hardly have any clothes as it is!" you exclaim, but he shushes you with a quick kiss before his mouth drops to your throat.

"Don't worry. I'll warm you up," he grins before his hands make their way up your skirt once more. He moans against your neck as his palms glide over your soft skin. Desperation claws at your throat when his fingers glide through your folds, dragging your arousal up to circle your clit. You curse his name and press your body tightly against his chest.

"Please, Joel, please," you beg as you rub the outside of his jeans. His jaw falls open and his head rolls back against the seat before he pulls his hand from between your legs. You whimper at the loss, but then his fingers slip into his mouth with a rough noise and you fall silent, watching him greedily taste you with heavy lidded eyes.

You feel dizzy, short of breath and aching with need when your fingers find his zipper. Pulling it down while he works on the button of his jeans, you moan a little when his cock is finally freed, all thick and heavy between you.

"Sit on it, baby," he pants while watching you lift onto your knees. He pushes up your skirt so he can see you notch the thick head of his cock at your opening and he feels drunk, his brain a cloudy, needy mess at the sight he's dreamt about for years.

Every day that passed without you, the memory of how you felt faded against his will. But having you on his lap now, your scent invading his senses as you slowly sink down on his cock, all those memories come flooding back: your warmth, the tightness of your pussy, the fucking noises you make from your pretty mouth... it's enough to bring him to tears.

One falls and you see it. You're holding your breath, still impaling yourself on his cock and reveling in the stretch, but you still cup his cheek and wipe the tear away. The sweet gesture just makes another one fall and when your hips finally grow flush with his lap, he releases a strained, choked sob, unable to look away from the depth of your gaze.

"Fuck, I missed you," you whisper, pressing your forehead against his.

"I know, baby, I know," he murmurs, blinking away the tears and wrapping his arms around your waist. The tip of your hat gently taps his cheek and he grins when you lift it off your head just to drop it on top of his messy curls.

"There you go," you say with a slow, deliberate roll of your hips. "Now you've got the Christmas spirit."

"Already got what I asked for, anyway," he chuckles before the palm of his hand cracks lightly across your ass. You yelp and giggle, falling forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"And here I thought you had a permanent place on the naughty list." You begin to move with more purpose, moaning softly against his collarbone as the tip of his cock catches just right inside you.

"You oughta talk," he scolds with a small smile. It's equal parts frustrating and relieving to have this with him again. Had you just talked things out instead of snapping at each other every time you crossed paths, you would have saved so much time, and yet you can't be mad because you're too grateful to have him at all.

It's so easy to fall back into the familiar rhythm. Just like muscle memory, you both remember what the other likes. Without being asked, you tug your black shirt up and over your head so he can bury his face in your breasts as you ride him. His hands grip and pull you, helping you move and deepen the angle until your thighs start to shake. When his lips suction over your nipple, you arch your back with a sweet moan. His tongue is so warm and wet against your skin so you chase it, bouncing on him a little faster and he rewards you by switching to the other one.

"Yeah, baby, just like that," he pants, warm breath fanning across your wet skin. "Oh, fuck—ju-just like that."

You're stuck staring down at him, at the way the shadows stretch across his face, at the softness around his eyes, at the way he struggles to breathe. A sound catches in your throat and his dark eyes find yours before your mouths crash together in a hungry kiss.

"So good," you whisper against his lips. "So, so good."

He groans and lifts his hips, snapping them up into yours, driving himself deeper. You gasp and one hand reaches out to scramble for leverage, but your fingers just slide down the foggy window next to you. The Santa hat askew on his head falls off somewhere behind him but you're both too soaked with desire to notice.

Your legs shake as you work to keep up with his pace but your whole body is shuddering in his lap and for once, it's not due to the cold. He's slamming into you, pushing mercilessly against a sweet spot hidden away deep inside, and it's tearing you down.

"Oh god, Joel," you cry through clenched teeth, then your head tips back and your eyes squeeze shut and his mouth is on your throat, then your jaw, then your face—quick, urgent kisses that desperately try to make up for lost time.

Joel feels your muscles tighten and he grips you harder. He groans into your skin and fucks up into you, moaning about how good you feel and how tight you are and how he wishes he could have gotten his mouth on you, if only for a few minutes.

"But next time, I'm gonna eat this pussy til you're screamin', hear me?" He's grinding into you, forcing you to take him as deep as you can and stealing all the air from your lungs. "Never gonna let you go after this. Not gonna—shit—not gonna fuck this up again, okay?"

Tears slide down your cheeks and you nod before you gasp sharply and your body spasms with relief on top of him. He groans around the squeeze of your cunt and fucks you faster.

"M'sorry," he whispers over and over. But you're in a love drunk haze, you can barely hear him. Your body slumps forward to rest against his shoulder and a moment later, he comes with a rough curse in your ear. You sigh, pressing your cheek against him as he floods your pussy. He's holding you close to his chest and filling you up until he has nothing left to give and his body sags into the seat.

Your lips seek out the sweaty skin of his throat and you leave little kisses there while he catches his breath.

"Can you come over for Christmas Eve?" he asks suddenly, and you giggle before straightening your spine and leaning back. His eyes are deep and warm and he's giving you that sexy smirk you remember all too well. Your heart flips and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again.

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "'Course I'm sure. So long as you're ready, 'cause Tommy's gonna give us a lot of shit."

You laugh and his face softens at the sound.

"Okay. I think I can stop by."

Joel smiles and looks down at your skirt fanning over his lap, hiding where you're still connected.

"Can you wear this?"

You smack his shoulder and he laughs. It's so lighthearted that you can't remember any of the heartbreak. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair and he gazes up at you sweetly as his laughter dies down, both of you staring at one another with matching smiles.

"Battery's probably good by now," he finally murmurs, still looking at you with stars in his eyes and a goofy smile on his face.

"Oh, shit, I forgot," you say, glancing over your shoulder at the steamy windshield. Joel fishes around to find your discarded shirt and hands it to you before helping you off his lap. You both groan, muscles aching, then you swing your leg back over to the passenger side. When you slip your shirt back on, you squeeze your thighs together, cheeks burning when you catch his sticky release dripping down your leg.

"You good?" he asks. He's already done his jeans back up and his hand is on the door. He's got his coat back on, ready to finish fixing your car, and your chest aches for him.

Typical Joel. So good at taking care of you.

"Come here," you whisper, then the corner of his mouth lifts before he releases the door handle and he stretches across the cab to press his lips softly against your own.

"Merry Christmas, Joel," you say, kissing the tip of his nose.

He smiles warmly before coming in for one more kiss.

amidst the fancy cars, motorbikes, top shelf whisky, tannyhill, designer clothes and 18k gold jewelry, you were rafe’s most prized possession. a sweet little bar cart girl from the country club turned co-ruler of the rambunctious beach side town. you were a pogue turned kook long before rafe had noticed you, but you still managed to catch his eye whilst being decorated in vintage prada and blumarine, skipping in the ocean coast at the boneyard.

your romance grew hot, blooming faster than anybody could fathom. within a week you were the angel bar cart girl turned rafe’s lover. you wanted to believe he loved you, did believe him for longer than you should have. even when his saltwater eyes would be rimmed with scarlet, pupils dilated despite the fact that he promised he would stop dipping into his own supply. even when his once gentle hold would leave an ache beneath your tender skin, his gold signet ring often threatening to leave a brand. even when his booming voice would vibrate off the decorative wallpaper, blowing your hair back with the sheer force of his anger in your face.

and especially when you sat alone at the country club, rafe’s empty seat mocking you from where you picked at your cooling dinner, numb to the local’s pitiful and amused stares.

that had been rafe up until your period was two weeks late, two vibrant lines on four home pregnancy tests snapping him into gear. it wasn’t a discussion. you would be having the child- children- two twin girls, and he would be the father he never had. he would stop the coke, the dealing, the parties. be the man you always wanted. the man you knew when it was just the two of you between your silk sheets. in the early hours of the peaceful and serene morning, staring at his sober expression that was filled with love rather than turmoil.

that had been rafe for longer than you thought he could be.

“you sick or something?” despite your ex’s harsh tone, you knew he wasn’t angry. annoyed most likely- given that this was the first time you had agreed to an outing with him and both of your children since the separation. the children lived in a gorgeous house with you a few blocks from tannyhill since before they had turned one- their fourth birthday now a mere few months away much to your disbelief. rafe had ensured his children would still have a spectacular view of the ocean that he had grown up having. he was good at that. making sure the three of you were taken care of. throwing however much money you needed for necessities, toys for the girls, furniture and decor for the home, and then some for your own pleasure.

your oldest daughter by five minutes- valentine, spoke up. “is mommy sick?”

you quickly turned in your place from the passenger seat, ignoring rafe’s piercing cobalt eyes only to meet valentine’s that matched them almost identically. your mustered up smile quickly turned genuine at the sight of your sweet babies in their car seats, stuffed animals flopped in their laps. “‘m fine, val-“

your younger daughter- rosette- or rosy for short, appeared as a mirror of your younger self- with her doe eyes so similar to yours staring back at you. “pwomise?” her sweet voice was quiet, hiding behind her new scarlet bunny jellycat. your expression softened immensely, holding out your chipped manicured pinky. instantly, both of your daughter’s latched on with theirs, the trio of you giggling for no apparent reason, missing rafe’s uncomfortable expression from behind the wheel.

your twins were aware of their father, which was a miracle given that rafe had always struggled to keep his word about being the dad he never had. a continued presence in their lives despite your separation. as the breadwinner however, he couldn’t be there all the time- and living separately only made things harder. the heir of cameron development visited at least once a week for coffee at your home. the two of you would watch your daughters play with the new toys rafe purchased for them weekly, helping them when they occasionally got stuck. it would be tense between you two at the beginning of every visit. rafe keeping to a strict routine of asking if everything was working properly, that the girls were healthy, that you had enough. you would assure him every time that you did, but held your tongue when describing your week. he had been in the bahamas on business when you had given birth, but had never missed a birthday since. he had been out at the country club with topper when valentine had said her first word- cat, which caused him to spiral when he heard he had missed it. he’d been absent when they learned how to walk, when they were potty training, learned how to talk, learned how to read small words, write small words. still, he couldn’t abandon his legacy for his children that he had spent under a hundred hours with during the year. as long as they had enough.

rafe’s porche eventually pulled up outside of a bakery he had never been to- let alone heard of teetering on the edge of the cut. the blonde held his tongue when you initially offered the location of the establishment you had the liberty of choosing, mentioning that they had a kids menu the girls would enjoy. he wondered if you regularly brought his children to places near or on the poorer side of the island, knowing how firmly against he was on the subject.

it had always been a point of contention between you two that you could never fully assimilate to kook culture. despite your mother becoming a successful name in the real estate business through pure dedication and hard work in your freshman year, you never wanted to take full advantage of it. rafe couldn’t forget your old car, one that was still parked outside of your mother’s house the last time he checked. a violet 1965 chevrolet impala that had been passed down from your grandmother after she died. the doors were squeaky, handles slightly sticky, the silver bumper rusted some, and the paint was chipped, but you refused to get rid of it. it was only until rafe threatened to have the piece of junk towed if you ever thought about driving his children around in that metal death trap that you folded. instead, you picked a sensible audi as your new car when he took you to the dealership a few weeks before your separation. a model so unlike either of you much to his chagrin.

speaking of, your vintage handbag that was speckled with age and decorated with cutesy keychains no doubt picked out by your daughters, jingled in the summer breeze when you stepped out of his car. despite how much your stubbornness and individuality got on his nerves, rafe couldn’t deny that you still held his heart after all these years. you stuck by him till the end of the line. endured his mood swings, his violent tendencies, his addiction, all because you loved him. he couldn’t fault you for leaving when it got to its worst, especially since it was for the sake of your girls. your tearful voice still echoed in his ears as if it were yesterday. i can’t have them growing up in this house thinking that this is what love should feel like, rafe. i can’t. you can’t seriously want someone like you as their example for marriage.

that had kept rafe up at night for months after you moved out.

before he could pull rosy out of her car seat, the blonde heard your soft melodic voice singing from the other side of the vehicle. the short haired man straightened up slowly, as if disbelieving of the sound.

you were cast in a beacon of sunlight. the early summer morning glowing against your stunning complexion that your daughters’ shared. he hadn’t said anything about your darling mini dress when you had opened your front door only a half hour ago, just stared for a moment too long before stepping past you inside. rafe wasn’t sure how to verbalize that every time he saw you, you reminded him that nobody else could ever hold a candle to how gorgeous you were.

the eldest cameron inevitably grew up since you discovered you were pregnant. having shaved off his juvenile curtain bangs, swapping his colourful polos and graphic tees with button down dress shirts and neutral designer short sleeves. wearing the family ring on his finger with pride, along with a watch that cost more than the house you grew up in on his wrist. replacing his dirt bike with a number of luxury cars, each more expensive than the last. despite that, he couldn’t deny that it seemed like not a second had passed since the first time he saw you in that bar cart, all those reinventions of himself ago.

you were still the sweetest girl in the outer banks apparently. only with him, now, you were more reserved. speaking when spoken to and keeping details concise- just in case he had to fly out the door that next minute to tend to a number of other responsibilities a man like him had. wheezie kept him updated. you still smiled at everyone you came across, kook or pogue- your daughters’ following in suit, sharing your sweetness. the residents of outer banks only had nice things to say about his family. rafe regularly heard about you picking some flowers for the elderly woman who lived down the road from your home, as her son was one of his business partners’.

a few weeks ago, you had donated some of the twins’ old toys that they explicitly said they didn’t play with to unprivileged children on the cut. after he heard about that one- he immediately drove to your house to confront you- the gifts for his daughters’ meaning more to him than you had initially realized. even still, you were under the impression that his assistant had been picking them out. sensing he felt as if you were donating his affection.

you were perfect in every sense of the word, and rafe couldn’t help the feeling of your small hand squeezing around his heart- unable to look away from where you and your eldest daughter were singing a song he didn’t recognize. the grip her little hands had on your shoulders tightened after you lifted her up, swinging her around as best you could- much to her delight.

rafe jumped when he felt a tiny hand pull on his left fingers, absent from a wedding band. you two hadn’t gotten that far before everything went to shit. the sun kissed man looked down, your doe eyes staring back up at him from where your youngest daughter was still sat in her car seat. his adams apple bobbed with a harsh swallow, quickly unbuckling the little girl before plopping her on his hip. the scent of the baby shampoo you still used on rosy’s hair wafted up to rafe’s nose after the toddler quietly rested her head in the crook of his neck. a dull ache pulsed behind his cobalt eyes when he remembered his little girl as a baby. the chub in her cheeks had softened since then, and rafe knew her features would only keep growing in every day he wasn’t there.

the exterior of the bakery was painted a deep green shade, and valentine had excitedly commented on how it was the same colour as your neighbour’s new ‘boyfriend’ (engagement) ring. inferiority wormed it’s way into rafe’s chest, a feeling that seemed to make itself known when he was faced with the topic of marriage and companionship. you were raised by a single mother yourself. your father having skipped out on the two of you before you learned how to walk. rafe knew you appreciated everything he did for you, but he wasn’t blind when faced with that bittersweet look in your eyes every time your daughters would mention something rafe had no knowledge of. wether it be a show, something funny that had happened earlier that week, or something you had done.

the four of you walked through the open glass door, with rafe managing to hide his surprise at the charm of the small hole in the wall bakery. the bottom half of the walls were painted a warm butter yellow, the tops cream with matching engraved trimmings, paired with deep grey tiled floors, and a small strip of patterned green carpet that ran beneath the petite tables on the right hand side of the establishment. each small circular table was decorated with a clear vase of stemmed flowers, coinciding with the decorative floral piece that hung from the middle of the ceiling. a leather booth seat ran down the entire right hand wall of the seating area, turning the corner with a window that faced the lot. the left hand side showcased a matching window, displaying freshly baked bread, along with a glass case of sweet and savoury baked treats. behind the long counter and barista machines was a wooden board displaying the menu, which admittedly looked delicious to rafe.

before he could even speak, a short haired woman walked out from behind the serving counter. “hey, you!” rafe watched intently at the way your expression instantly brightened at the sight of the mystery woman. her quirky mushroom crocheted earrings bobbed when she gave you a hug as best she could with valentine between you. jesus, rafe rolled his eyes. it was as if he wasn’t even in the room when the employee started speaking. “i’m so glad you’re here! i was going to text you! architectural digest is doing a segment on flowers in public spaces, and they came in this morning to take photos of your display.”

rafe could’ve dropped rosy at that statement, his pink lips falling agape. architectural digest? your floral display? you made-?

“what?” your normally soothing voice was a mix between incredulous and excitement, teary with emotion. valentine’s cobalt gaze finally tore away from the treats, her eyebrows furrowing in concern at the crystals balancing along her mother’s waterline.

“you- you made that?” rafe asked dumbly, mildly embarrassed at the way his question came out. the employee seemed to register rafe then, her fading smile bleeding with recognition. the cameron man hardened his expression to mask his various feelings at that look, tightening his tense lips before sending a poisonous glare in the short haired woman’s direction. she answered before you did, her initially friendly tone now clipped.

“she did. she’s been making them for us since we opened last year.” guilt immediately flooded the man’s rigid body. last year? how had you- the mother of his children- been making floral displays for the last year, and architectural digest knew before he did? rafe turned to look at you, but you stayed silent, choosing to bounce valentine in your arms to avoid his intense glare. frustration began to seep into rafe’s veins, filtering out the guilt in the only way he knew how.

“she’s always been quite humble, hasn’t she?” it would have been a sweet sentiment, had rafe’s bass toned voice not been coated with distain. why hadn’t you told him this was something you were interested in? something you wanted to pursue? how did you even have the time to do this? who was watching his children when you were doing this?

the short haired woman turned to look at you, her hardened expression softening at the weak smile of embarrassment you sent her unbeknownst to rafe. “well, i bought a hundred copies. along with two extras for you and your mom.”

you gasped, unable to do anything but protest. “sandra, you didn’t-“

sandra, only laughed as if it had been the easiest decision in the world. “of course i did, and to say thank you for bringing ad to the bakery, lunch is on me today. anything you and the kids want.” valentine laughed when sandra tickled her tummy with her pointer finger, causing you to finally smile brightly once again. the two of you hugged tightly once more before sandra left your family to their own devices, another kind looking employee standing on deck behind the counter for when you four made your decision.

“we’re not done talkin’ about this.” rafe harshly broke the silence between your little family. you didn’t respond, only leading the way to a corner table that would allow you two the most room in the albeit empty bakery. there were only two other people enjoying what was assumed to be a coffee date on the other end of the establishment. rafe bitterly couldn’t help but wonder how sandra made any money if her bakery was this empty on a friday morning.

your twins were silent, meeting each others eyes with seemingly twin telepathy. you and rafe didn’t notice when you both sat down on either side of the corner booth, too engrossed in your own thoughts with valentine and rosy in your laps respectively. “mommy, can we have treats later?” valentine peaked up at you unsurely, foreign to the somber energy you were radiating.

tears threatened to drip down your throat. you were so unsure of how a man who had given you the two greatest and sweetest things in your life could be so mean when he wanted to be. “of course, baby. mommy wants some too. we just need to eat some real food first.”

“what d’you girls want?” rafe asked your daughters, addressing them for seemingly the first time today besides his initial hugs and hellos. you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, bouncing valentine on your lap much to her delight while you scanned the kids menu.

“they have pancake cereal.” you managed to put on a grin for your children, valentine and rosy gasping with excitement once they realized what you had said. rafe furrowed his eyebrows, reading over what that was.

mini pancake cereal

fluffy, house made, mini buttermilk and vanilla pancakes with fresh strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries.

comes with your choice of whip cream, maple syrup, or mixed berry compote

“can we please get it, mommy!” rosy exclaimed, one of her tiny fists balling rafe’s black polo in it’s grasp, her other arm clutching her new bunny stuffie to her chest. rafe’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, never having heard his youngest speak so loud unless she was playing tag with her sister. she was usually so shy in her father’s mind. you laughed sweetly, as if you were expecting it.

as if it were a regular occurrence.

“of course we can, lovie.” your ex felt his heart swell and break simultaneously while watching you with the twins. you were such an amazing mother. it was so clear you adored them, and in turn they adored you. rafe swallowed dryly when the kids began to babble nonsense about this supposed pancake cereal, letting himself look at you properly. his cobalt eyes raked across the serene slopes of your face, catching sight of the sparkly eyeshadow and rosy lipgloss that decorated your angelic features. it was like you to put in the extra effort on your appearance when going anywhere, something rafe admired heavily about you when you first started dating, but he couldn’t help but wonder if you had put in a little extra effort for him this time. it had been years since the pair of you went out like this, only now you had two children who emulated your beauty to a tee.

“what’re you getting?” you seemed shocked that he was speaking to you, figuring you would get the silent treatment. rafe sighed through his nose, knowing if he wanted this to be a regular occurrence, he couldn’t let his anger get the better of him. you didn’t deserve that- no matter how much he made you feel like you did. you watched carefully when his large hand began stroking rosy’s back- as if he had been doing it her whole life. rafe gritted his teeth momentarily, looking away before catching sight of the floral display that hung from the ceiling.

it’s textures were dazzling. a tilted silhouette made up of beiges, hints of yellows, pinks, and whites. vines, cotton ball flowers, feathered plants, and dried flowers were among the many plants it contained. it was masterfully chaotic, and acted as a skillful conduit for the outside to match the in. “it’s beautiful- your- uh, your installation, i mean.” rafe caught himself. “i wish that i-“ he bit his lip, chuckling humourlessly at the fact that he could speak to a whole conference room composed of the most powerful businessmen in the country, but couldn’t tell you the truth. “i-i wish that i knew that part of you.”

he avoided your eyes, unknowing to the way they softened at his quiet admission. you knew that took a lot for him to admit, to be vulnerable after everything that’s happened. it wasn’t even a fraction of enough to get you back to the highest of highs in your relationship, but it was the strongest start in a long time. “thank you, rafe.” rafe looked at you then, ignoring the goosebumps that travelled up his arms at the way you said his name. you were blissfully unaware that he just narrowly avoided asking all the questions that balanced on the tip of his tongue. “do you know what you’re getting?”

“i’ll do the same.” rafe decided quickly, your eyebrows furrowing when you realized you hadn’t told him what you wanted yet. his eyes widened a moment later in realization, clearing his throat to the side before mumbling quietly. “you- uh, you always used to get the vegetarian hash at the country club for brunch. jus’ thought you would do the same here.”

a sharp gasp left your glossy lips. you couldn’t believe he remembered that. thankfully, valentine spoke up before you could internalize what that meant. “mommy, could i get orange juice? rosy wants apple.”

rafe held rosy in his strong arms, cradling the little girl to his chest much to your rapidly melting facade. it was completely different watching him interact with them in public. only having seen him somewhat cautiously playing with your daughters’ on your living room rug under your watchful eyes, or scooping them up for a quick hug when he came through the front door at the beginning and end of his visits. “‘course, baby.” rafe answered for you. valentine spared her father a look before turning back towards you for the final verdict. your doe eyes flitted towards your ex, immediately noticing how enamoured he was with rosy on his lap, gazing at her relaxed form with pure adoration. your heart raced at the little grin that spread across his pink lips, rosy staring back at her father with the same agape lips that rafe was often known for supporting.

you spoke up after ensuring both juices were on the menu. “of course, val’s, but you don’t have to ask only me. you can ask daddy too.” rafe inhaled a sharp breath, in utter disbelief that you had just acknowledged him like that. a genuine smile directed towards him spread across your lips for the first time that morning. “coffee. black. no sugar?”

there was something in rafe’s cerulean eyes that gleamed, glittering with cautious hope before he whispered. “yeah. only if you get an oat chai.”

once the food had been brought out, and your girls’ fruit juices had been poured into their travel sippy cups, the four of you began to eat. sandra had gotten the chef to make the pancakes extra mini, allowing the girls’ to use their hands and chew their breakfast safely. still, rafe and yourself stood by in case they needed help.

“s’it good, baby?” rafe whispered to rosy, smiling softly at her nod before pressing a gentle kiss to the chub of her soft cheek. unable to help himself, his calloused fingers pinched valentine’s identical chubby cheek, chuckling at her little grin.

it was clear to both of you that valentine was a leader, taking after rafe in that way. she always looked out for rosy. asking her questions that she could answer yes or no to, letting her parents know what her shy little sister wanted in case she didn’t want to speak. she was fiercely protective and intuitive, which is why you found that she often assessed your reactions with rafe. she loved her father, but you could tell she was having a harder time completely warming up to the man in front of her. meanwhile, rosy was more than happy to fulfill her role as a daddy’s girl. though it made you nervous for when rafe inevitably had to leave. you tried not to think about it, quickly putting on a smile. “what do you say to daddy, lovies?”

“tank you.”

“tank you, dada.”

rafe felt his breath catch in his throat for the twentieth time that morning. it meant more to him than he realized having them acknowledge something so little like breakfast. it was different than toys, a gift. this was time spent with their father, and they were thanking him. the blonde blinked, a wide smile eventually spreading across his pink lips. “you’re welcome. thanks for comin’ out with me today.” despite him looking at your daughters’, you knew the last part was directed towards you. quietly, you reached your left hand out, rafe finally noticing the promise ring he had given you at the height of his addiction adorning your ring finger. it was a smaller gemstone than he would’ve liked, but he knew you wouldn’t have appreciated something so flashy. he hadn’t seen it since your separation. your birthstone stared back at rafe, and immediately his right hand caught yours before you could change your mind.

the pair of you tensed up at the feeling of your hands meeting, before eventually relaxing once the initial sparks subsided. rafe gently ran his thumb over the back of your hand, travelling down to the ring he had given you in the bed of his old truck, parked at the beach all those years ago. it had been a final resort to keep you from leaving him, knowing he couldn’t do the right thing and let you go despite his addiction taking control of his life. rafe could feel the guilt beginning to swirl in his stomach, parting his lips before valentine giggled mischievously.

“mommy and daddy sittin’ in a tree-“ rafe froze, multiple scoldings halted at the hint of shyness that cloaked your giddy expression. you could believe how cheeky your daughters were being in public, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the fire engine red shade that burned atop your ex’s now bare ears.

rosy joined with a delighted laugh. “k-i-s-s-r-o-t.“ you both laughed at the misspelling, letting go of each others hands almost reluctantly. rafe chuckled again before kissing rosy’s head who giggled. your manicured fingers tickled valentine’s tummy playfully, the little girl squirming in delight at the feeling. the sight of your little family together like this had you wishing that it could feel like this all the time. like rafe had been there everyday since the twins came into this world. that he didn’t have to pull several strings to get a day off for the first time in months. you blinked back your approaching tears, hiding your bittersweet smile from behind your lukewarm oat chai.

after cleaning the girls’ up, and rafe admittedly buying too many treats for just the four of you to go- which you promised the girls as dessert that night despite their pleading- you were driving back to your house. it was a gorgeous day out. the sun not even at it’s peak yet despite the heat already making itself more than known to the residents of outer banks. your manicured nails flicked together in contemplation, the feelings of finality weighing heavily in the luxury car. you knew rafe wouldn’t push for more time today. it was a mutual understanding that he was on thin ice, and this visit would be on your terms, but would it be so wrong that you wanted him to stay?

“lovies, do you wanna have a pool day today?” the girls’ cheered before you could take it back. despite the underground pool that took over most of your backyard, you were terrified at the thought of the girls starting to learn how to swim. they were still so little in your mind. so you conceded, buying them a larger than normal pink kiddy pool in the shape of a heart for pool days. you figured this was something you should speak to rafe about, along with a number of things the quicker your girls’ seemed to grow up. while the toddlers talked amongst themselves, you hesitantly rested your hand on rafe’s shoulder at a red light, feeling the muscle tense before relaxing beneath your palm. “you can join too.” the blonde man turned to look at you then, flickering his eyes over your soft expression before nodding in agreement.

rafe stored the treats in your refrigerator while you got the girls’ dressed in their swimsuits. he had a pair of black swim shorts in the trunk of his car, leftover from when topper or kelce had decided they wanted to spontaneously go to the beach a few weeks ago. you had asked him to fill the pool up after he got dressed, which confused him at first, but now he could see the heart shaped kiddy pool about fifteen paces away from the actual pool. the man couldn’t help but chuckle, rolling his eyes half heartedly before he got to work.

once the pool was about halfway filled with lukewarm water- he’d be damned if his babies were cold- he heard the patio door slide open. rafe looked up, spotting the twins dressed in their matching frilly bathing suits with protective hairstyles. valentine’s was a pale teal colour, and rosy’s a vibrant magenta. rafe was ashamed to say he still got the twins mixed up until a few months ago, remedied after he had gifted them little gold necklaces with a ‘v’ and ‘r’ respectively. you had smiled softly at his admission, letting him know that the only way you were able to tell them apart at first was because wheezie had painted one of each of their toenails a different colour. rafe ignored the pang in his chest when you told him that. wishing he could’ve seen it. wishing that he could’ve looked up from his own reflection long enough to help you out more.

their little feet padded up to rafe, standing on either side of his knelt down form as he continued to hold the hose into the pool. rosy’s short fingers reached out to touch the stream of water, flinching away while hissing out a giggle at the funny feeling. rafe grinned, chuckling when valentine cutely dipped her spread out toes into the shallow water, her little hands keeping herself steady on rafe’s shoulder. suddenly, he heard the clacking of heeled sandals, whipping his head up towards the sound before his jaw dropped.

it wasn’t as if rafe hadn’t looked at you romantically since your separation. it was no question that you were the most sought after girl in the outer banks- before and after- the eldest cameron had finally managed to lock you down. he hadn’t slept with you- or anyone else believe it or not- since the breakup. the father of your children had only caught pg 13 moments of you when he was lucky. like a stray bra strap showing when the shoulder of your loose sweaters would fall, or the lace of your panties that had peaked out from beneath your mini skirts on more than one occasion. it had him fucking his fist as soon as he crossed the threshold of his home in a way he hadn’t since he first started puberty, but fuck. rafe really didn’t think you could get any more gorgeous, especially after having his twins. he was wrong. so, so wrong.

a stringy bikini left little to the imagination, revealing your rich complexion that glittered with some sort of oil. the bottom strings were tied high on your hips in bows, while the top was tied behind your neck and between your shoulder blades. you didn’t look exactly the same as you did before of course, but god you looked so much better to rafe. your tits were heavier for lack of a better term, and your bottom had filled out, more perky, rounder. the blonde wasn’t aware of what he was doing until valentine squealed, the hose water spraying her chubby legs rather than filling the pool. he swore softly under his breath, cursing to himself silently afterwards when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to do that in front of the girls. rafe gently pulled valentine further into the sun, giving her nose little butterfly kisses in apology before allowing her to hold the hose for him. rosy glued herself to rafe’s other side, her chubby arms wrapping behind his neck with her warm cheek pressing against his. the elder man smiled widely, wrapping his other arm around his youngest daughter before placing a kiss along her cheek.

unbeknownst to rafe, you weren’t fairing any better either. he had somehow filled out even more since the two of you had broken up. his skin was just as golden as it always had been, prompting his shaved blonde hair, strong bone structure dotted with golden stubble, and blue eyes to stand out that much more. his biceps bulged while he hugged your daughters, their little hands pressed against the defined muscles of his shoulders and back. you bit your bottom lip, sitting down on a stray poolside chair before calling out. “sweethearts. sunscreen time.”

“but mommy-“ valentine whined softly, her feet already dipped in the now filled up pool from where she stood inside of it. rafe stroked the little girl’s back, chiding her softly.

“c’mon now, listen to mommy.” your heart swelled. “we’ll make it quick.” your eldest grumbled half heartedly, her little humph morphing into an excited squeal when rafe playfully lifted her up with an exaggerated groan. both little girls on his hips cheered with delight, held six feet up in the air as if they weighed nothing.

oh god, you were done for.

“can you do mine, dada?” rosy asked sweetly, gently playing with his rope chain necklace from where she laid in the crook of his neck. rafe couldn’t stop his heart from melting, unable to deny his girls anything- unless you said so, of course. maybe.

“‘course i can, baby.” valentine reached out for you, rafe handing her off before sitting on the grassy ground in front of you. the other pool chair too far from you and val for his comfort. you bit your glossy bottom lip, giggling at the way your eldest squirmed at the cool feeling of the sunscreen. practically lifting all of her limbs at you like a spider monkey to somehow make the process go faster.

a few minutes later, rafe had gotten your youngest daughter pretty much covered besides her face, which he took his sweet time with. you furrowed your eyebrows at the way he applied the sun cream with his fingertips, rosy turned away from you. it wasn’t until he turned your youngest daughter around to reveal a little white nose and slightly messy kitten whiskers made from sunscreen, that you laughed louder than expected. valentine gasped, giggling along with you much to rosy’s confusion. quickly, you pulled out your phone, snapping a few too many pictures of your oblivious daughter and an amused rafe behind her. “i want one too!” valentine hopped off your lap, running to her father before presenting her already sun screened face.

you showed the pictures to a curious rosy while rafe got to work, giggling at her little gasp and toothy grin at the artwork on her face. after snapping “a few” more pictures of your little kittens, they ran off into the pool, toys of their choosing scattered throughout the water. you smiled at the way rafe didn’t take his eyes off of them, turning your chair horizontally much to his confusion. “c’mon, we can share it.” the blonde got up after a beat, sitting down while you stood above him. “d’you want a beer?”

a careful eyebrow raised itself on his handsome face. “you tryna’ get me drunk?” rafe naturally smirked when you rolled your eyes sexily, dragging his cerulean gaze up and down your perfect form while you walked back inside the house to get said beer.

soon, you returned with two small coolers filled with ice. the one you placed next to rafe had a few imported beers from mexico, and some drinks for yourself. the ones for your daughters next to their kitty pool held sippy cups of watered down juice, and little bottles of water.

handing an open beer to rafe, you sat next to him beneath the large umbrella above the pool chair. he thanked you, clinking your drinks for good luck before taking a sip. the pair of you sat quietly for a few moments, basking in the heat while watching your daughters play in their pool a few feet away. rafe scrunched his nose suddenly, stroking the back of his neck before leaning forwards- elbows to knees. “so uh.. tell me about your flower installations.”

you smiled softly, shrugging. “i don’t really know what to say. i..” rafe turned to look at you, admiring the way your expression softened when thinking about something that clearly brought you joy. you looked hopeful. such a contrast from the stoicism and defeat you exhibited when you were with him. “you remember topper’s ex girlfriend? ruthie?”

your ex scoffed out a laugh at that, sipping his beer before nodding. “yeah. i remember her.” amused giggles left your lips, reminiscing about how tumultuous their relationship had been when you were only teenagers.

“well, she invited me to her wedding two years ago-“

“no.” rafe laughed incredulously. “you went to that?” you hid your face in your left hand to mask your laughter, birthstone catching his eyes again. before he could overthink it, he nudged your thigh with his playfully. “kay. so after you watched her uncle kiss her cousin, what happened-?”

“oh god. i wasn’t there long enough for that. the girls were at my mom’s and rosy caught a cold somehow-“

“what?” rafe’s relaxed demeanour went rigid. you turned your focus to him, a sad smile painting your lips when you took in his reaction. “why didn’t you call me-?”

“i tried. your phone kept going to voicemail, so i called your assistant and they said you were on business, and that they would let you know i called.” rafe’s mouth fell agape, sighing irritatedly before pinching the bridge of his nose to will away his oncoming tension headache. he hadn’t been away for business. he had taken topper to his bahamas vacation house to drink away his sorrows like a sorority girl. he couldn’t believe- “but she was fine the next morning. the paediatrician told us it was only a twenty-four hour cold. so when you called back, i didn’t want to worry you-“

rafe grabbed your hand before he could stop himself, immediately softening his hold when you flinched out of habit. the elder man swallowed then, eyes filled with anguish before gradually tilting his head forwards to show you he meant no harm. “you don’t ever worry about worrying me, or bothering me. not when- not when it comes to the girls.. and- and especially not when it comes to you, a-a’ight-?“ he cut himself off while he was ahead, unsure of how to continue without ruining more than he already had. you set down your drink, pulling your smaller hand out of his grip softly much to his disappointment. shockingly though, your palms enveloped the sides of his face. rafe spared a look at you, afraid to even breathe at the risk of breaking the moment. as if it were the easiest decision of your life, you stroked the soft pad of your thumb over the approaching wrinkles along his forehead, softening the tension in his face as best you could. gently, you placed a feather soft kiss to the same area, eyes watering at the sound of the shaky breath that left the man who still held your heart after everything.

“i promise.”

the sound of ice pouring into water caught both of your attentions, snapping your heads towards the kitty pool that was now bobbing with ice cubes. valentine gently dropped the empty cooler on the grass, bottles fallen beside it. she placed her sunglasses over her eyes with a sigh before laying in the pool next to her sister- who looked equally as relaxed. your jaw dropped at the way their little arms rested behind their heads, unable to hold back your laughter after rafe commented incredulously. “there’s no way that just happened.”

you attempted to cover your mouth, but just couldn’t stop laughing. “in case you were unsure that val was yours-“

“that has you written all over it! are you kidding?” you knew rafe wasn’t mad despite his indignant tone, his smile threatening to take over his entire face. you giggled, even while standing up to reach for a beach umbrella behind you. “what’re you doing?”

“i’m just gonna go set this up by their little pool. they must be so hot-“ before you could even blink, rafe took the umbrella from your hands. you couldn’t help but stand there dumbly, your ex flicking his head back in the direction of the pool chair.

“relax. i got it, mama.” a red hot desire burst through your veins at how easily those words left his mouth, forgetting how slick it could be. as if that weren’t enough, rafe tucked his head down to place a chapped kiss along your cheekbone, already on his way to your daughters before you could register what had happened.

you could still feel rafe’s kiss on your cheek and his warm face beneath your palms even after he returned to your side. he sat closer to you this time, and you couldn’t believe how giddy you felt. especially after everything that had happened between you two since your first meeting at the country club as teenagers. you birthed his children for gods sake, but it felt as if you had just held hands on the playground for all your classmates to see. “i think they should start learning how to swim. what uh, what d’you think?”

you blinked, watching your girls who were as cool as cucumbers relaxing in their kiddy pool. “i’m afraid i’ve turned them into pool loungers and they wouldn’t like it.” rafe laughed at that, sipping his beer with a warm smile. the kids had lifted up their sunglasses momentarily at his arrival, pretending to be nonchalant but giggling madly when he attacked them with kisses after setting up their umbrella. “but we can try. maybe we could teach them next weekend in the big pool. the shallow end is only three feet.”

“yeah, yeah i can do that.” rafe nodded to himself. “i have a few meetings on friday, but i’ll clear my schedule for the weekend. that work for you?”

“you’d be able to get the whole weekend off?” you didn’t mean to sound disbelieving, but you also needed to make sure that rafe wasn’t making promises to your girls’ that he couldn’t keep. you had been down that road before, and they didn’t deserve that.

the eldest cameron sighed through his nose, quite literally shrugging off your concerns. “it’s my company. i should get the weekend off. simple as that.” you immediately raised a manicured brow at that. where was simple as that when you were deciding baby names? nursery colours? having cravings, morning sickness, giving birth, changing diapers, staying up for hours into the early morning when the twins wouldn’t stop crying? where was simple as that when he missed watching their first steps, hearing their first words, potty training? times two? but yes, the mountain of toys falling off their playroom shelves was enough consolation. two hours a week at most with their father was apparently enough. all the money in the world and he couldn’t tell them apart unless he was able to see the initials strung around their necks. “what?” rafe seemed genuinely confused at the way you shut down, and that was the worst of all. he genuinely couldn’t fathom how much of your life you had given to your children.

you were still so young when you had gotten pregnant. it happened during your year off after high school graduation, you hadn’t even been with rafe for a year, hadn’t even been legal enough to drink. still, ward- albeit geriatric- insisted, stating an abortion would be preposterous, and rafe listened to him. it was no question that you loved your children more than anything else in the world. you would never regret having them for a second. except you couldn’t believe that rafe had promised you he would be there for you, that he loved you, but still left you alone during the most difficult time of your life. all for ward. rafe was able to grow up. rafe was able to reinvent himself. rafe was able to leave when things got hard, and rafe was able to come back anytime he wanted because you let him.

“mommy? i need a towel. gotta go potty.” rosy tugged at your hand, lifting you out of your stupor. you snapped into action, picking up the fluffy pink towel behind you and drying your daughter off as quickly as you could.

“do you need me to come with you?”

rosy shook her head, already running into the house as fast as her legs could carry her. “no. i gotta pee!”

rafe chuckled from behind his beer, but you didn’t see anything funny about the possibility of your daughter having an accident. “where’re you going? she said she’s fine-“

“she could’ve had an accident, and i’m not making her walk out here to tell me. i need you to watch val.” you both turned to catch the girl quickly looking away from your conversation, resuming playing with her toys. “i think you can manage that much.”

“hey-“ rafe’s larger hand just managed to grab your wrist, but you pulled it away twice as rough, moving back a few steps. the man opposite to you immediately stood up, his once intimidating height appearing smaller and smaller the more you let yourself think about the past few years. confusion bled into his hurt expression, his hushed irritation only adding to your turmoil. “c’mon. what’s going on-?”

“you-“ you lowered your voice suddenly to keep val from hearing you. cursing yourself for how it wobbled with tears, teetering on the edge of a sob. rafe could only watch helplessly. that’s all he’s ever been able to do. “you choose when you come and go. you get to break promis-es.” a wet hiccup left your lips, quickly cut off by your shaking left hand. your ‘promise ring’ felt more like a shackle with everyday you spent apart from the man in front of you. rafe’s mouth fell agape, taken aback at how quickly everything had shifted. a watery smile drew itself over your trembling lips, doe eyes staring up at the man in front of you with an eerie sense of glee that withered away the longer they did. “but time is a thief, and he’s robbing you blind, rafe.” rafe swallowed dryly, twisting his face and shifting on his feet before his fail safe expression made an appearance. every feature of his, especially the ones your daughters’ shared, became devoid of any kind of emotion. you sniffled pitifully, wanting to curse yourself for being so stupid. for believing that he loved you despite his first reaction being aloof condescension at the discovery of your achievements. for believing that he abandoned you and the children he forced you to bring into this world because he had no other choice. for believing him about anything. “no amount of money in this world will ever be able to change that.”

His tongue skated lightly over your neck, his left hand resting firmly on the back of your head and his right on the sliver of bare skin between your t-shirt and pants. The kitchen counter was cold against your back, the granite digging into your spine. You let a soft moan escape your lips as he sucked a particularly sensitive part of your neck, prompting him to move his lips to your own with a growl. His hands migrated to your hips, tapping them to urge you to hop up onto the counter. As you move to slide up, his hands grip your waist and lift you the rest of the way. 

 You briefly break the kiss to situate yourself before diving back in, your core now warm against his stomach. You work to lift his shirt off, him returning the favor. Then, the doorbell rings. He doesn’t acknowledge it, but it doesn’t stop. You both try to ignore it, though it's persistent in its ringing.

You wake with a start, sweat now cooling on the back of your neck that makes you shiver. Your legs clench together in the aftermath of your dream, the telltale signs between your legs indicating what had just happened. You smile to yourself, noting that this is the first time you’ve dreamed in months. You’d much preferred this to the screaming and blood of your nightmares.

The doorbell continues to ring, and after a groan into your pillow, you stand and rub your eyes. You can’t tell if the dizziness you’re feeling is a consequence of the drinks you’d had or the dream you’d had. Either way, you push it aside to open the door.

“Jesus, you look like shit,” Maria chuckles as she pushes herself inside your house, carrying a heavily packed tote bag. 

“Thanks, it's a new look I'm trying,” you turn away from her to head to the kitchen for a glass of water as she makes herself comfortable.

“Well I’m sure Joel would love it,” she smirks, seating herself at the kitchen table. You blush at the thought of the man you’d been dreaming of moments before. 

“God, last night was…” you shake your head, “did I embarrass myself?” you ask with a wince. Maria snorts a laugh.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I think you made… quite the impression. Or at least, that's what Tommy said,” she begins to unpack the bag she brought. Inside is the biggest breakfast sandwich you’ve ever seen and some coffee grounds. You’d told Maria you needed more just yesterday, and her thoughtful ass just had to get you some. You almost rolled your eyes at the level of thoughtfulness.

“Wait… Tommy? Did he talk to Joel? What did Joel say? Does he… what does he think of me? Did I embarrass myself? Oh my god, Maria, he probably thinks i'm crazy,” you rant, waiting for her to interrupt you. She watches, almost too amused to stop you.

“Yes, yes. Tommy talked to Joel... which I’m not happy about, by the way!” she pauses to give you a look, but you groan, urging her to continue. “Okay, okay. He said… he said something about you being ‘special’. Tommy thinks he’s a goner,” Maria scoffs and moves to the old coffee pot you have on the counter to make a fresh pot. 

“Oh… thats… wow,” you can’t quite find the words you’re looking for. You feel like a blushing schoolgirl. 

“Yeah, well…” Maria pauses, both of her hands on the counter as she thinks. She turns back to you. “Just… be careful, yeah?” you furrow your brows at her words.

“What do you mean? I’m a grown adult, I think I can handle myself,” you feel yourself getting frustrated at her words, as if she doesn’t have any confidence in your own abilities.

“I know you can handle yourself. You’re an independant badass, we’re all aware,” she raises her hands in defense as you give her a small smile. “I just mean… It's Joel. Tommy told me some things about him… things he did before he came here, and-” you cut her off.

“Alright, I don’t need to hear this. Maria, seriously, we all did things to survive! I’m definitely not somebody to judge,” you lower your head, flashes of pre-Jackson floating through your head.

“I know, I’m just saying. Be careful, alright?” you nod before grabbing your sandwich and sitting at the table.

“Alright,” you take a bite of the sandwich and let out a moan. “Fuck that’s good. Okay, so what else did Tommy say?”

-

Joel forgot what a hangover felt like. He’d vaguely remembered the head-pounding nausea of his youth, but a memory is nothing like the real thing. The real thing was much, much worse.

As he lies in his bed, thumb and pointer finger pinching the bridge of his nose, he recounts the previous night. He remembers the vitriol spewing from that man's lips and he can't help but mentally thank him for facilitating your encounter. He remembers the bottle of pinot noir, particularly the way it tasted on your tongue. He smiles to himself, the unfamiliar butterflies in his stomach unsettling him as much as exciting him. He needed to see you, and soon. Maybe if he got the courage to leave the house.

Before he can make up his mind, his doorbell rings. With a groan, he stands from his bed. Damn knees. After taking a moment to steady himself, he makes his way down the stairs. He glances at his coffee pot, noting the lack of coffee grounds. He softly curses to himself, realizing he’ll have to figure out how to get some. Tommy had given him a tour of the town when he first arrived to officially settle in, but he’s realizing just how little he’d absorbed. 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he swings open his door to see you. You, with your shy smile and your bright eyes. You wear a loose-fitting flannel, and jealousy tugs at his gut as he thinks about who’s flannel that could be. Butterflies soon replace the jealousy as he imagines that it’s his own. His own, meaning he could probably take it off himself. You open your mouth to speak, cutting him off from his thoughts.

“Here,” you stretch out your arm. Joel notices, for the first time, a mug of black coffee in your hand. His mouth opens a bit as he gasps softly, hoping that you didn't hear. “It’s a bitch trying to get coffee grounds around here, but I figured I’d share my stash,” you shrugged, still holding the mug out with an awkward smile. He reaches for it, your fingers grazing as he grabs the warm mug.

“Thanks,” he replies shortly, taking a small sip and rolling his eyes back into his head. “Jesus, that's good,” he chuckles softly before taking another sip.

You watch him drink, his throat bobbing as he sips. His lips glisten with the coffee, and it takes all of your willpower not to taste them yourself. You look down to the white t-shirt he’s wearing, tufts of hair poking out of the top. His flannel pajama pants make you giggle- he looks like someone's father. Someone's sexy father.

“Something funny?” he raises his eyebrow before taking another sip, savoring the bitterness he’d missed so dearly.

“No, nothing it's just… you look cute when you wake up,” you blush, eyeing the way his hand rests on his hip. His shirt rides up under his hand, the small sliver of skin like a car crash you can’t stop looking at.

“Cute? I look… cute?” Joel raises his eyebrows more, if even possible. He can’t recall a woman ever calling him cute. Certainly not a woman he was… interested in. 

“You know what I mean,” you nudge his arm before pulling your hand back, crossing your arms so as not to touch him more than you already had. Joel didn’t really know what you mean.

“Well, you do, too. Look cute, I mean,” he scratches the back of his neck, studying the freckles on your face. The way they move when you talk and smile. You’re gorgeous and it makes Joel realize just how out of his element he is. He feels himself grow cold, ice freezing over the warm puddle you turned his heart into. “I have to, uh,” he points his thumb inside, desperately thinking of an excuse to get away from you so he could calm the beating of his heart. He fails to think of one.

“Oh,” your face falls a bit but you quickly plaster a smile on your face. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” you turn on your heel, the warmth of embarrassment creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. 

Jesus, what were you thinking? This man has a daughter and at least 10 years on you. Those things didn’t matter to you whatsoever, especially now, but they probably mattered to him, right? You shake your head as you approach the stables, ready for a day of work. As much as you love human interaction, you really loved working with the horses. They obviously can’t judge you, so you tell them all of your problems as a way of working things out. 

You approached Jessa, a filly born about a year ago. She was completely brown except for a few white spots on her head and around her ankles. You call them her boots. 

“What am I gonna do here, Jess?” you frown, opening her stall and taking a seat on a milk crate next to her. She whinnies softly. “I know, I know, I’m crazy, right?” Jessa huffs. “We were drunk, Jess. It was a mistake, I guess,” you stand, pet her head, and leave her to see Joel standing awkwardly at the front of the stables. Your heart drops at the possibility of him overhearing you. He fidgets before speaking up. 

“I’m supposed to meet Tommy,” he murmurs, looking anywhere but you.

“Oh. What for?” you ask, noting the accidental edge in your own voice. Joel's eyebrows pinch together at your tone.

“Uh, patrol. Training,” he clears his throat. “About, um, earlier,” he starts, taking a small step closer to you. Before he continues, Tommy enters. 

“Well, hello there, lovebirds,” Tommy strides through the stables confidently, a stark contrast to his brother. He ruffles the hair on your head and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes at his brotherly nature. You choose to ignore his nickname for the two of you, opting to help them get their horses for patrol.

“So, you trainin’ him?” you ask, reaching to grab the saddles from the wall. Joel doesn’t miss the way your shirt rides up. 

“Yeah, gettin’ the old man ready to start pulling some weight around here,” he smirks when Joel visibly rolls his eyes. 

“Ah, well, good luck out there,” you smile and hand Tommy the reins, ignoring Joel completely. Tommy raises an eyebrow but chooses to stay silent, thanking you and leading Joel to the gates.

-

Joel was never a smooth man. Even in his prime, he didn’t date much. It's not like he had much of a prime, what with having Sarah so young. He wouldn’t have traded her for the world, but it's a simple fact. Joel was out of his element. He’s kicking himself from the second you walk away. How did he fuck up so badly?

As he shuts the door, he turns to see Ellie at the kitchen table, watching his every move.

“When the hell’d you get here?” he starts, eyeing down Ellie who is currently staring him down with wide eyes.

“Like 20 minutes ago, you walked right past me,” she shrugged and took a bite of the granola bar in front of her. She speaks before swallowing “the fuck was that, by the way?” she questions. Joel grimaces.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth. S’impolite,” he walks past her to sit on his couch, mug of coffee in his hands. He studies the mug, ceramic and plain for the most part, aside from the brown owl on the front. He wonders if he’s going to give it back to you. 

“That was Maria’s sister, right? The one from last night?” she smirks at the shock on his face.

“How the hell’d you-” he starts before she cuts him off.

“Come on Joel. First of all, the front porch? Not exactly a private venue,” she starts, shoving more of the granola into her mouth. Joel groans in annoyance. “Second, my friend Dina told me she saw you guys at the Tipsy Bison. She said there was totally some chemistry,” she laughs.

“Friend? Who is she? Can I meet ‘er?” Joel perks up at her words, excited that she has a friend, but also trying to get out of the conversation they’re having.

“Yeah, she's really cool. I met her at movie night, she- wait, no you're not getting out of this!” She stands from the table to join him on the couch.

“There is no ‘this’. I’m pretty sure she wants nothing to do with me now,” Joel traces his fingers over the grooves in his mug. Your mug. Ellie rolls her eyes.

“What do you mean? Y’all were totally getting it on,” she laughs, as he shoves the side of her arm, trying to hide his smirk.

“Y’all? What’re you, a cowboy?” he huffs a laugh. 

“Learned from the best,” she gives him a cheeky grin. “I think… maybe you should talk to her. Adults are so dumb, like, half of the world's problems could be solved by just talking to each other,” she furrows her brows for a moment. “Well, except for the whole ‘infected’ thing. That’d probably take a bit more.” Joel can’t help but laugh at her train of thought. 

“Maybe I will,” Joel pats her knee and stands up, setting the mug in the sink. He’d probably give it to Maria to return to you. 

He didn’t plan on trying to talk to you again. He’d just screw it up, he thought. Images of you were scattered throughout his mind all morning, and he was kicking himself for his lack of social skills. Before he could kick himself anymore, he saw you. He’d had no idea you ran the stables. If he’d known, maybe he could have prepared himself. Maybe think of a few words to say. Instead, he was his usual, awkward self. 

The patrol goes how he’d expected it to. Tommy notices he’s quieter than usual, which is saying a lot. The route they took was empty except for a small group of runners that they took out with ease. Joel just wants to be in his bed, asleep. He doesn’t want to have to think. He’s afraid he won't be able to get back as soon as he’d hoped, Tommy leaving him alone at the stables to return the horses. Tommy had said something about ‘getting home to the old ball and chain’ that made Joel roll his eyes, but he relented nevertheless. 

His heart pinches in worry when he doesn’t immediately see you. He figures it's for the best- the horses are already in their stalls, and maybe he can just sneak out without checking in with you. He’s about to do just that when he hears raised voices coming from your small office. He quietly walks closer to the door, trying to listen in.

“I told you, I’m sorry!” he hears a male voice echo under the door, and it’s familiar. He wracks his brain to figure out who it was.

“Justin, I told you it’s fine! I don’t care! I’m sorry, but I’m not interested anyway,” he hears your voice now, smooth as silk. His heart skips a beat.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know me, baby,” he feels disgust at the male voice now, recognizing it as the man from last night. He fights every urge inside of him to not burst inside that room right now. 

“Hey, get off me!” he hears you yell. His fight to suppress his urges is completely gone as he hears you in distress, slamming the door open to the sight of you pinned against your desk, this ‘Justin’ guy grabbing your wrist with a bruising pressure.

“The hells goin on here?” Joel asks, chest heaving.

“None of your business, old man. We were just… talking, right?” Justin smirks to you. Joel notices the fear in your eyes and his heart cracks a bit.

“Um… right, yeah. It’s fine, Joel,” you say, unconvincingly. You widen your eyes to urge him to leave. As if he ever would. 

“How bout we all go home, yeah?” Joel asks, taking a step closer. Justin takes this as a threat, releasing you to turn to face Joel.

“And what if we don’t want to, huh?” Justin crosses his arms. Joel looks down at him, grateful for the 2 or 3 inches he has on him.

“Oh, I think you want to,” Joel says sternly. Justin takes this as an opportunity to push his shoulders, slamming him into the wall behind him. Joel is taken off guard, but he can’t help but chuckle. “You didn’t want to do that, kid.”

“Seriously, man? All this for some bitch who doesn’t even put out?” Justin smirks as if he’d won the argument. Without skipping a beat, Joel's fist is in his face, knocking him to the ground. You yelp, jumping out of the way.

“Fuck, dude!” Justin yells from the ground grabbing his bleeding and possibly broken nose. Joel shakes his hand, stretching his fingers. His knuckles fucking hurt, but its hard to focus on that when he sees the way you’re looking at him.

“Get the fuck out,” you robotically say to Justin.

“But- h-he-” he tries to speak.

“I said get the fuck out!” you raise your voice, pulling him off of his feet and pushing him out the door. Joel watches him like a hawk as he leaves, ready to punch him a million more times if he needed to. The two of you stand in silence for a few moments  before you decide to speak up.

“How was patrol?” you ask, fidgeting with your hands. He huffs a laugh, taking you by surprise. “What?” you smile slightly.

“Nothing, it's just… after everything that just happened, you’re asking me about patrol?” he looks into your eyes, noticing the heat in them. He’s sure he has the same look in his own.

“Are you… okay?” you ask, ignoring his question. 

“You’re asking me if I’m okay?” he asks, incredulous. You nod, with an mmhmm. You bite your lip and Joel isn’t sure if it's the adrenaline or if he finally grew some balls, but he surges forward and in a single step, he has your face cradled in his hands. 

“I-is this… okay?” he whispers against your lips, feeling your hot breath on his own. You nod before reaching up to clutch his flannel in your hands, pulling his lips to your own. Joel unwittingly moans into the kiss. He fucking moans. He’s almost mortified. Almost. When you moan in response, he’s only urged on further, slowly walking you backwards until your ass is pressed against the desk. He taps the side of your hip, motioning for you to hop up. You separate for all of 3 seconds, settling  on the desk, when his lips are back on yours. 

You whine into his mouth, spurring him further. He fiddles with the bottom of your flannel, itching to rip it off but maintaining some restraint. Before he can think too deeply, you reach out to the bottom button of his own flannel. 

“S’this- this ok-kay?” you ask between breaths. 

“More’n okay, darling,” he smiles softly, leaning down to kiss your neck while you work on the buttons. You giggle at the sensation. “What?” Joel asks with a small smile.

“It’s hard to… focus… when… ahhh,” Joel reattaches his lips to your neck with a smile. He feels like a teenager again, kissing his crush in secret. It’s thrilling to him, really.

You’ve never been more turned on in your entire life. You thought that dream had made you insanely wet, but Jesus, this was something else. You do finally manage to get his shirt off, leaving him in a white t-shirt. He continues to fiddle with your shirt, causing you to pull back for a moment. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering if he did something wrong. You whip your shirt over your head, leaving you in only your plain black bra. You wish you’d worn something lacy and pretty, but considering there wasn't a Victoria’s Secret nearby, you weren’t that upset. 

It’s been a very long time for Joel. Though he was out of practice, he was pretty sure he remembered what to do. He certainly didn’t have a hard time showing how much he wanted you, his erection painfully strained against his pants. Women liked that, right? But, you weren’t just any woman. You were… something else. At the sight of you in just your bra and jeans, Joel knew he was done for. And your smile, that damned smile… it felt like worship in a world without faith. 

You wanted more, so you took it. Reaching to the hem of his white t-shirt, you lifted to pull his shirt off so that you’re skin to skin. The first thing you notice is how fucking warm he was. The next thing you noticed was his scar-riddled chest. You trace them softly with your fingers, the raised skin smooth against you. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as you observe his body. 

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, looking up to meet his eyes. He laughs softly.

“You’re one to talk,” he says before taking your lips against his again. He feels spurred on by your words and actions- he now has no doubt now that you want this as badly as him. 

“Take my pants off, Joel,” you smirk, unbuttoning them yourself to give him a head start. He laughs before pulling them down the rest of the way leaving you in your underwear and bra. He reaches his hand forward, mouth slack as he presses his hand against your core, palming you over your underwear.

“Mmmmmfuck,” you moan, head bobbing onto his shoulder.

“This alright?” he asks, restraining a moan at the dampness of your underwear.

“Please, keep going,” you grind into the palm of his hand.

Without hesitation, he traces his hand up your mound, purposely putting pressure on your clit, before reaching the hem of your underwear and sliding his fingers under, finally feeling you. He moans at the wetness collected between your legs, amazed at how turned on you are from him. He collects that wetness and brings it up to your clit where he rubs in painfully slow circles. You buck your hips into his hand, and he chuckles- its low and gravelly, his own arousal preventing him from putting on a steel front. 

“Fuck, darlin’ you’re so wet,” he whispers into your ear. You can barely hear him, your own heartbeat thrumming in your ears. As you’re about to speak, he slowly slips a finger inside you. You let out a loud moan, biting your lip to stifle the noise.

“S’okay baby, make some noise for me,” his movements maintain their place as he drops to his knees. You stiffen.

“J-Joel, what’re you doing?” you pull at his hair so he looks up at you. It gives him goosebumps. 

“What’s it look like I'm doin’, sweetheart? Need’ta taste ya,” he licks his lips as he looks at your core, knowing he’d never see anything as beautiful as this again in his life. You freeze at his words.

“Oh, you don't have to…” you look away from him shyly. He stands at this, hand still moving between your legs.

“Oh, I want to. Please, baby, I want to,” he says to you, pleads almost. Guys had never asked to go down on you before, and you’d never pushed for it. It was nerve wracking- you considered telling Joel this. But the look on his face was enough- you can’t help but relent. 

“Mmhm, okay,” you nod and he smiles, sinking to his knees again. 

He doesn’t even notice the way his knees creak or how uncomfortable the hardwood floor is on them. He just needs to taste you. The moment his mouth is on you, he moans. The vibrations cause a jolt of lightning up your spine. 

“Fuck, s’good,” he says against your thigh before kissing it and diving back in. This time he lifts one of his hands to slip a finger inside, the sensation causing you to lift your legs to rest on his shoulders. You hoped you weren’t squeezing too hard, but the thought was fleeting as his free arm shot up to wrap around your thigh and pull you closer.

The familiar sensation of your core tightening and your vision blurring hit you like a truck. No man had ever made you come before, and certainly not within less than 10 minutes of seeing each other. The orgasm swells to a peak, your thighs clenching on either side of Joel’s head as he moans into you. The aftershocks hit almost as hard as the initial shock, and you don’t realize it's over until the overstimulation of Joel sets in. He was still going absolutely crazy, drinking you in like his life depended on it.

“Ah, fuck,” you hiss at the oversensitivity and he immediately pulls away to ask if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” you laugh. “I’m perfect, actually. Jesus Christ,” you laugh again as he stands, pulling you to the edge of the desk so your clothed core is pressed against his jeans, leaving a dark spot over his crotch. “I’ve never… done that,” you confess shyly.

“Done what?” he asks, cocking his head.

“Been eaten out. And also, I guess, have a man give me an orgasm,” you giggle, mind loose. His expression hardens.

“Wait… what?” he looks at you, concern in your eyes.

“I mean, no guy has ever wanted to before. It’s no big deal,” you shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Baby, it is a big deal. Because how any man could deny that… there has to be something wrong with him. A big deal of something wrong with him,” Joel laughs with you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Can you please fuck me, Joel?” you ask with a cock of your head and a pout on your lips. Joel almost trips in trying to take his pants off and you can't help but giggle.

“Oh, you won't be laughing soon, darlin’” he chuckles before pulling his cock out from his underwear. It’s huge, obviously, because why wouldn’t it be. It’s the biggest you’d ever seen, and you can't help but lift your hand up to grab it, stroking it to the tufts of hair at the base. “Won’t be lastin’ too long if you keep that up,” Joel grimaces with a hiss. You smirk as you grab him and lead him to your entrance, pressing the tip to you.

“Start slow, okay?” you ask, worry filling your gut. It had been awhile, and with a man as well endowed as Joel, you couldn’t help but have some worries. 

“I promise,” he chuckles before pushing it in, just the tip. The two of you gasp in harmony, your arms shooting to wrap around his shoulders. “Y’okay?” he asks, bringing his hand up to your cheek. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, “keep going, please.”

“Okay, baby, I gotcha,” he pushes himself further, and before you know it, you can feel his tufts of hair against you as he bottoms out. He’s breathing heavy and ragged as you lean up to capture him in a kiss. He tries his best not to move, to let you adjust, but his restraint is like a rubber band about to snap. Before it does, he feels you move closer to him, urging him to start moving. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He begins slowly, moving his hips back and forth. You squeeze him perfectly, your wetness allowing him to move with ease. His hands moved to your hips, then your breasts, your face- he was all over you. It took everything in you to keep your eyes open, but the eye contact he was making was worth it. When he wasn’t kissing parts of you, he was watching you. Whether it was your eyes, your lips, or your breasts, he was watching you. He only closed his eyes when he blinked. You were used to guys digging their faces into your shoulder and finishing in 30 seconds. Everything about Joel was… so much more.

He flattens his palm on your stomach above your mound, feeling himself inside of you. Slowly, he moves his hand up your chest to squeeze your nipple. You unexpectedly gasp and arch your back, urging him to continue. His other hand snakes from your waist to your clit as he begins to rub in circles.

“Need’ya to finish with me, darlin’” he whispers in your ear.

“O-okay. M’close,” you manage to squeak out, his hands doing so much to you. 

“F-fuck,” Joel lets out a groan as he tries to maintain his pace to get you off. The second he feels you clenching around him, however, he speeds up. As he’s about to come, he quickly pulls out and spills onto your stomach, chest heaving as he leans over you. He wishes he’d had a camera to capture the view in front of him right now

You’re breathless and sweaty beneath him when you come to. His length lay on your stomach, twitching as he came down. The two of you remain this way for what feels like an eternity before he stands up fully, grabbing a box of tissues from your desk and proceeding to clean you up.

He reaches his hand out to you and you take it, hopping off of the desk. Grabbing the discarded clothes from the floor, he motions for you to lift your arms over your head so he can slide your flannel over you. Only it's not your flannel, but his. He doesn’t comment on this as he puts your flannel on himself, the usually oversized fit you’re used to fitting him perfectly

You reach up to fiddle with his hair, the curls messy atop his head. His lips part but he stays silent, watching you bite your lip in focus.

“There,” you smile. “Better.” 

Joel isn't sure what to do with his hands now, the soft ticking of a clock on your wall filling the noise. He feels heat creep up the back of his neck when he recounts what you’d just done. In public.

“Coffee?” you ask, playing with the hem of your new shirt.

“Hm?” he snaps his head to you, daze broken. 

“I said ‘coffee’? Like, the drink?” you giggle.

“What about coffee?” he asks. He knows you’re probably inviting him over, but he just wants to hear you talk. 

“Ugh, just come home with me, Miller,” you laugh and grab his hand, leading him out of the stables. 

“Hey, I’m Ellie,” she introduced herself. She looked to Joel, whose eyes hadn’t left you since you walked over to the table. She nudged him with her elbow, muttering a small “Joel”  before he came to his senses.

“Oh, I’m, uh, Joel,” He said, nodding again. 

“Nice to meet you Ellie, and ‘uh Joel’,” you smiled before sitting down across from him. Joel looked down, embarrassed that he stuttered in front of you. What the hell was happening to him? 

“So he’s your brother, Tom?” you asked. Tommy wasn’t a fan of the nickname, but as his wife's younger sister, you felt it was your place to get on his nerves. 

“That would be right. Though the old man’s got about 10 years on me,” he joked as Joel shook his head.

“Hm. Y’all got good genes,” you laugh, throwing a wink Joel's way. He avoided eye contact.

“No, no no. That is not happening,” Maria told you as you raised your hands in defense. Joel and Tommy looked confused. “She has dated a family member of every one of my boyfriends,” she said. Ellie laughed.

“The fuck is this, sweet home Alabama?” Ellie laughed before Joel nudged her. You had to come to your own defense.

“Hey, hey, it wasn’t like that,” you said, Maria gave you a look, “it was only two! Just Jeff and Chris! Oh, well then there's Brian, but it was his second cousin so does that really count?” you asked. Ellie giggled to herself. 

“Well, whatever the case, you don’t gotta worry about that. I don’t think Joel’s exactly smooth with the ladies,” Ellie said, mumbling the last part. Joel nudged her again- she thought she might start to bruise. 

“Oh shit, remember that one time, back in the day, at that bar in town? Ahh, what was it called… well, anyway, Joel met this girl there and-” Tommy started before being cut off by Joel. 

“That is enough outta the two of you,” he silenced them before giving you an apologetic look. Tommy and Ellie laughed to themselves before the topic was changed. Small talk consumed the table, and breakfast ended fairly quickly. There was a mention of gathering at the bar in town that night- Joel was strongarmed into going by Tommy. Though it wasn’t exactly a scene for kids, Ellie wasn’t going to go. She’d rather die than watch a bunch of old people get wasted, as she so lovingly put it to Joel. 

So, here he was, standing in front of his mirror, pinpointing every single one of his flaws to himself. His flannel was clean, at least- maybe too colorful? And his hair- maybe he’d have Maria cut it before- no, no, it’s fine. Why does he even care how he looks? He hasn’t cared for a good 20 years- probably much longer than that, actually. But when Ellie wolf-whistled at him as he made his way down the stairs, well, he’d be lying if he said that his confidence didn’t get a little boost.

The bar was a short walk from his place, and luckily he made it there at the same time as Tommy and Maria. They made their way inside and to the bar, where a few others were already sitting. Joel took notice of you sitting on the opposite side of the bar, next to a man about your age. He realized now just how out of his league you were. You were younger than him, prettier- what could he give you that a younger man couldn’t? He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he still felt disappointed.

He didn’t notice you glance over in his direction, your pupils dilating as you breathed in the sight of him. Shit, did he look good. His hair was nicely combed- did he use gel? His shirt looked nice, tucked into his jeans. You could tell he put in the effort. It’s been a while since you’d seen a man put in the effort. You’d been so busy staring at him that you’d forgotten about the man next to you, who hadn’t stopped talking the entire time. 

“And I haven’t spoken to him since,” the man next to you finished speaking and you snapped back to reality.

“Oh, hm, that’s interesting,” you said, stirring your drink.

“Oh yeah? Who was I just talking about,” he asked.

“You, uh, you were…” you started, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Jesus, you weren’t listening to me at all,” the man said, standing up from his seat with a huff. “Man, bitches like you just waste my time,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his as he walked past.

“Excuse me?” you asked, standing from your seat.

“You heard me!” he turned around. “And to think… I was gonna give you a chance with me tonight,” he said, shaking his head. Joel laughed at this from down the bar, drawing both of your attention. He didn't even realize he had laughed until the man asked “What's so funny?”

“Oh, well, I just find it funny that you think it's you giving her a chance. That’s all,” he shrugged before turning back to his beer.

“Man, fuck you and your bitch,” he said, making his way toward the door.

“Hey, watch it,” Maria said to him, noticing the commotion. Joel stood with a fire in his eyes. Tommy placed his hand on his chest, holding him back from doing something he may regret. 

“Whatever,” the man dismissed himself and left the bar. You were embarrassed- you didn’t mean to cause a scene, but god was that guy an awful storyteller. Staring at Joel was much more interesting. 

Things had calmed down a bit after a few minutes, but you hadn't moved from your position on your barstool. Slowly sipping your drink, you pondered simply going home. That was before you felt a presence on the stool next to you. You looked up to see Joel there, his brown eyes boring holes into your own. 

“Well, hello there partner,” you said, offering him a smile. He normally wasn’t fond of people making fun of his accent, but it was cute when you did it. God, was he really calling another person cute?

“Hey, Y/N. Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten involved, and-” you cut him off by placing your hand on his arm.

“Don’t apologize. It was sweet, what you said. Not many men do shit like that anymore,” you said, removing your hand from his arm. It felt colder now.

“Shit like what?” he asked, waving down the bartender for another beer.

“Shit like… I dunno, being nice to women?” you wondered aloud. It was the unfortunate truth- but the Miller boys must have something special in their DNA.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that darlin’,” he said. He didn’t mean for the darlin’ to slip out, but it only felt natural. 

“Yeah, well, you’re a breath of fresh air,” you replied.

The two of you sat there for a few hours more, simply chatting. Tommy and Maria left a while ago- not that you'd noticed. You also didn’t notice that you were the only two people left- at least not until the bartender cleared his throat. The two of you awkwardly shuffled to the exit, Joel putting your jacket over your shoulders as you stood outside the bar.

“Well, I had a really great time tonight,” you told him.

“Me too,” Joel smiled, looking at his feet. What was he supposed to do now? God, he was so out of practice. Invite you back to his place? Well, Ellie was there, so probably not. Hug you goodbye? Kiss you goodbye? No, god no, that's way too fast! Or was it? Life isn’t the same way it used to be. Dating isn’t the same. Lord knows Joel hasn’t gotten the chance to really experience either in a while.

“It’s nice out, isn’t it?” you asked, looking at the stars. “You have a porch, right?”

So here you were, sitting on a couch on Joel’s porch with a bottle of wine between the two of you, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in years. You were inches away from him

“So, tell me… why do you always go after your in-laws? Is it some sort of… thing?” Joel asked. He would be horrified at the thought of asking someone this sober, but he was one too many glasses in and he was curious.

“No! No, nothing like that. It just seems to work out that way, I dunno,” you blushed, taking another sip.

“I guess that works out in my favor,” Joel says, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” you turned to him only to realize your faces were inches away. You could smell the wine on his breath as your eyes flickered between his own and his mouth. The two of you leaned closer- really, as close as possible before Joel speaks.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, licking his lips.

“Shut up,” you said before placing your hand on the side of his face and leaning in, closing the gap between your mouths. Your lips slotted perfectly into his as they moved rhythmically with each other. His hand began to reach for your waist as you pulled at his hair, deepening the kiss. Your tongue flickered on his lips as you set the pace, speeding up your feverish kisses. He put both of his hands on your hips, and with a hop, you were on his lap, straddling him. It just felt so natural- your hands in his hair, his hands brushing the skin under the hem of your shirt. They were warm and callous and really big. You really would have fucked him right then and there.

“Hey, yo!” you heard from across the street. Maria. Next, a whistle from Tommy. You jumped off of his lap, quickly, as your sister ran up to the porch and grabbed you by your arm. “What the fuck Y/N?!” she yelled, dragging you off the porch.

Joel watched as you staggered away- the hem of your shirt was bunched and he could see the skin his hands were on just moments before. His mind was hazy as he observed you. You looked back at him and gave him a wink before Maria dragged you home. 

“Man, I’m gonna be in for a treat tonight,” Tommy complained, half-jokingly as he sat next to Joel on the couch. “What the hell was that?” he asked Joel incredulously.“I don’t really know. That was her,” Joel said- it didn’t make sense to Tommy, as he assumed Joel was just a mumbling drunk. But that was her, that was you, and Joel decided at that moment that you were something special- something he can't lose.

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