#fall fiction

Playfully rolling your eyes, you finished chewing, “You could have seen it up close and personal if you did the trend with me but you preferred the gym.”

Joe would do very little trends with you, he enjoyed the ones more where you danced and he got to watch from behind…also he liked the ones where he got to show off his strength.

“I mean…with all that movement back there I wouldn’t mind another rep.” The bun wearing man licks his lips, pushing back from his elbows, “And that dress mmm…”

You’re wearing a skinny strapped two printed mini dress that definitely showcased your cleavage and clung to your waist nicely as you explain, “i was filming date night outfits.”

Joe hums again, caressing his facial hair as he starts making way around the counter, which made you step to the other side, earning you a taunting grin, “We can consider what we’re about to do a date night if you want?”

Clapping your hands together, you wagged a finger at your husband who immediately made you his prey, “No, Joe! I have to pick the kids up at four.”

He checked the watch on his wrist, while you tried to tip toe backwards, “Uh, uh, where you going?”

“I got to get back to work.” You tried to convince.

Joe chuckled to himself, “I know we both got something that the both of us can work out…and our main problem is still having seats open at the table so why not fill them up?”

He then charged at you with laughter that boomed from his chest, tossing you right over his shoulder. Honestly you thought five kids was enough but if you asked Joe, he didn’t feel like there needed to be any limits.

“Joe!” You squealed after he slapped a hand to your backside and gave it a nice wiggle after it bounced back against his hand, “We don’t have time—

“We’ll make time. I need to see more of them outfits after I’m done with you…but this one might be my favorite.” He admits as he easily walks with you around the house in search of the bedroom.

Sighing you claw at your husband’s back as he felt you trying to slide out of his hold, “Don’t you tear this shit, Joe. I mean it. The other one you messed up is still on back order.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be alright.” He says, kicking the bedroom door closed before sliding you face to face in his arms, still holding onto you, leaving you to initiate the kiss after staring into his loving eyes.

It was safe to say, this date night outfit got a dick stamp of approval.

[JEY] —

the theme was: thanksgiving, you were already stressing out about some fits to wear a week before the big festivities, whereas Jey was more relaxed about it all. Don’t get it wrong, he likes to show out but he didn’t see the need in stressing over things weeks before they transpired. He would pick what he was wearing the week of or a few days prior.

However he didn’t mind helping you pick out what to wear either. Just based off the first outfit, you showed off as you approached from around the couch, there was amusement in Jey’s dark eyes.

He sings, “Okay, purple rain! Purple rain!”

Immediately your smile dropped as Jey continued grinning at you.

“What?”

Jey licked his lips, pressing his elbows into his knees as he surveryed you in some Metallic purple boots and a lilac blazer dress. It didn’t look bad…he just didn’t think it gave what it was supposed to give.

“Why you wearing purple? Aren’t you supposed to go for darker tones? Mustard yellows, chocolate browns, tans? I heard the color for this season is wine or something along those lines.” Jey explains, as he trails his eyes up the length of your legs.

Your arms are folded now, “That’s boring!” You start, while Jey raises his brows to peek at the wine tortoise colored set on your nails, which you folded behind your back, “I wanted to switch it up with the dark tones and do something fresh.”

Jey slowly nods his head, while he caressed his beard, “I get that ma but you did say the theme was thanksgiving and this got prince written all over it.”

He’s laughing again and it’s working your nerves.

“…It sure does smell like hater in here.” You sass, making Jey scoff.

“What’s with the attitude? You asked me to give you my opinion and this is just the first fit right? Let me see the other ones…as long as they ain’t all purple.” Jey mutters that last bit but you caught it.

Scowling you say, “No, I don’t think i will! You’re not going to get the privilege to see the other options since you just tried to drag me. I didn’t know we had Tyra Uso in the building.”

Jey snickers, not believing that you were this pressed over him not feeling the first outfit for the theme. He never said it was ugly or anything like that, the colors were off if you compared the blazer and the shoes but it still somehow worked. He just didn’t see it for thanksgiving but you were not trying to hear it.

Maybe he should have cut back on the laughing but he stood by his Prince comment. You chuck the gingerbread cookie pillow right at his face on your way out of the living room.

“Aye! There ain’t no need to get disrespectful, alright?” Jey was on his feet now, reaching over the couch in attempt to latch onto your wrist but you side stepped him.

He wasn’t the only athlete in this house!

“Y/N, you can’t be seriously pissed at a jokey joke?!” Jey held onto the edge of the couch as he watched you retreat around the corner to head back to your office/second closet.

Just as he heard the door creaking you yelled, “I’m going to get the opinion of a true fashion head instead because my husband is the worst!”

And with a slam of the door, Jey just shook his head to himself at how sensitive you wanted to be today, letting out a small laugh to himself, followed by a sigh, he plopped down on the couch just to be notified that you were on tiktok live, talking to your supporters instead.

Of course Jey tuned right in.

[TERRY] —

“Ol’ heffa!” You hiss, tossing more clothes behind you.

Terry dodges a heel that could have caught him right in the face but ends up catching a balled up jumpsuit? That was closer to hitting his face.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You spin to the voice, hands on your hips, and half dressed.

“That heffa.” You balled up a fist, while Terry got closer to you, eyes wide as he glanced at the mountain of clothes that decorated the floor.

“I see you’ve been spending too much time at the salon with the aunties.” Terry attempted to joke, while you appeared as if you just wanted to swing on something or someone, “Alright…take a deep breath for me.”

Peering up into his spring green hues while he rubbed at your bare shoulders, you followed his coaching of breathing before letting out a groan.

“I told you I didn’t like our neighbor to the left but she personally handed me this grand invitation to her Christmas gala, like she does every year.” You begin to tell your fiancé.

Terry slowly nods, not understand what the issue is but keeps quiet, knowing you’ll tell him.

“She threw a jab at us, Terry!” You exasperate, “‘It’ll be nothing like your Christmas party last year, no itchy ugly sweaters and full glam for the greater good. You know what that’s like right?’ She had the nerve to say that to me?! She basically called us tacky like I won’t MINK her brain into a slushie! She don’t know who she’s messing with, T. My mom told me to cast the demon out and my auntie told me to ring around the Rosie that hoe but I heard your voice in my head instead.”

Terry felt a smile tickling its way onto his full lips, “Oh yeah?”

“Told her we’re not attending this year, we will donate to the foundation because that’s what it’s truly about, to help support HIV and aids, not acting like it’s a fashion show.” You respond making Terry nod his head at you taking the high road, “Then I took her invitation, put it in a blender, dumped it into a mason jar, with a red ribbon and put into her mailbox for her barely twenty-one year old boyfriend of the month to bring in for her.”

Terry dropped his head followed by the closing of his eyes, “You didn’t.”

“I told you I didn’t want to move to the suburbs but she keeps messing with me and I refuse to be shaded or bullied. I get along with pretty much everyone, except for her minions and that—

“Heffa?” Terry finished for you, which you pointed into the air with a dip of your head.

You knew your man would just get it.

“They’re just trying to get up underneath your skin since we’re the newbies in town. Don’t let them win.”

Tilting your head to the side you say, “Did you not block our neighbor across the street in with the truck because he kept blowing his leaves across the street into our yard? Even stood in front of his car after he tried to drive over his lawn to get away from you?”

“I don’t recall that.” Terry grinned at you while you stared at him in disbelief, “You just gotta teach people how to treat you.”

“Exactly! And if she keeps it up, I’ll cancel Christmas real quick for her.”

Terry laughs, pulling you into his chest to sooth you, “Relax, Tasmanian Devil. I got something that might uplift your spirts though.”

Gift giving was something Terry often did. It was always, “I saw this and thought of you,” and it could be little trinkets or snacks or anything that you enjoyed. He never missed with whatever he brought home.

It’s his black tux that he planned to wear to a friend’s wedding that was happening the day before Christmas Eve. He pulled it up from the bed and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face now.

“I’ve been in here nearly all day trying on dresses for Crystal and Sherrod’s wedding and you’ve been holding out on this info?!” You touch the protective bag that contains the suit, “Try it on while I get the wine and the ones.”

Terry chuckles as you start to scurry out of the room, “And for my services of modeling this for you, can I help pick your fit since you seem to be having a hard time?…which shouldn’t be with all these damn clothes you got.”

“Be quiet, Terry. You better be lucky I’m not a bridesmaid, or else you and your little friend to the left might see hell.”

Terry gives you a side eye, “She ain’t a friend of yours so she ain’t a friend of mine.”

“And that’s one of the many reasons why I’m marrying you,” you sigh dramatically while Terry just shakes his head at you, shooing you out of the room, to start unzipping the suit.

When you return with two glasses and a bottle, you make yourself comfortable, glimmering legs crossed over the other while you cheered Terry on in his all black attire.

He sips at the red, carefully putting the glass back down on the nightstand and decides to change back out of his clothes, not wanting to mess anything up, although you both had weeks to go before your friends’ wedding, he still wanted to take precautions, not wanting to cause any more stress to you as well.

“What about this?” Terry questions, pulling up a black lace piece, “We’ll be coordinating.”

You were leaning on one of your elbows and laugh, “I could do a red lip but…If I wear that dress, we probably wouldn’t be attending the wedding.”

It still had a tag on it too.

“Just adds more excitement to spreading love that day and later…” he winks at you, while you feel your body getting hot, even half dressed.

Terry holds it up by the straps with both pointer fingers, “…Get up, it’s your turn to show me why you’re a million out of ten.”

You smirk as you sit up, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Don’t I know it,” His eyes followed your movements with ease, as you plucked the dress from his hands, leaning up to let your nose brush against his, and just when Terry was ready to put his hands on your hips, you quickly slipped out of reach and circled around him.

It was his turn to lounge on the ottoman in front of the bed, enjoying his view as you got dressed up for him.

[CANE] —

“The fuck you got on?!”

“Now Lorenzo.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I know you better correct that bass in your tone.”

“And what’s gon’ happen if I don’t?” Cane quizzes, pushing off his knees on the edge of the bed to fold his hands underneath his armpits.

You side eyed him and he had no problem matching your energy.

After a tense silence you sigh, “Stop being extra and rate my fit!”

Cane scratched at his brow as he mumbles, “Was that not what I was just doing?”

You huff, “Your delivery is whack.”

“No, that outfit is.”

Your mouth drops open, as you looked over your shoulder at the mirror behind you before turning fully to look at what you put together. You sported a suede brown frayed jacket, a blue and white pin stripped blouse underneath that was left unbuttoned enough to show cleavage, baggy light-wash jeans, pointed toe boots, a multi colored silk scarf tied over your head, and a suede tote bag to go with it.

“What’s wrong with it? The theme is: bonfire in The West or Midwest.”

Cane sucked his teeth, “We’re in New York, cowboy Carter, in case your ass forgot.”

“Not for long!” You sing song, already excited for where you were spending Christmas.

Christmas’ in the city was of course special but the both of you desperately needed a vacation and Cane already hinted that Christmas would be your next vacation together. He just didn’t tell you where yet or even what to pack, although you kept pushing for some details, he kept that information on lock.

“I ain’t going nowhere where we might turn up buried alive for the buffalo to feast on, that includes: Utah, Nebraska, or at that cult bullshit Kanye likes to chill at.” Cane informed while you rolled your eyes.

“Wyoming, babe.” You sigh before posing in the mirror, “I’m not jumping to those areas particularly but i know I look good and nailed it.”

Cane snorts with a shrug of his shoulders, “If you say so.”

“You still didn’t tell me what you don’t like about it.”

Cane blinked at you, as you turned back around, posing as if that was going to change his mind. “For one I don’t like that jacket and that stupid ass scarf. So you lose points for that. You’re better off wearing my durag than that.”

Scrunching up your lips you respond, “You don’t get the theme. If I wanted to do streetwear then maybe. This is western with a touch of chic, babe. Keep up.”

“You wouldn’t normally wear that shit.” He argued, yanking on one of the fringes, making you stumble forward.

Whacking him with your bag you debate, “Maybe not but if there’s a code, you know I’m gonna body it. Just wait until I get you into some cowboy boots, then you’ll understand.”

“Some what?” Cane felt his own face scrunching up, “You ain’t never catching me in those corny shits.”

“If we’re heading to Utah for Christmas—

“It damn sure ain’t Futah and stop fishing, I’m not telling you shit until December 1st.” Cane told you, making you suck your teeth and stomp your feet.

He laughed at you, loving to see you squirm.

“So?” You urged him to give a score.

Cane went silent, taking his time to see the effort you put in. Although he liked to give you crap, he knew his girl could dress. He wasn’t a fan of this style but he already pointed out what he did like from the outfit.

“…I give you a solid six.”

“A six?!” You exasperated, “you’re supposed to always say a 10 outta 10.”

“I would be lying.”

“Wooow.” You tossed the bag on the bed next to Cane, tongue pressed into your cheek, slightly annoyed.

Your boyfriend chuckles at you, pulling you by the hand so that you’re positioned right in between his knees, “I ain’t say you weren’t cute…just that this ain’t Texas.”

A crooked smile plays on your lips then, as you grip cane’s face, “We’re going to H-Town?!”

“Did I say—

Cane starts but is cut off by your kisses full of excitement, which would soon turn heated.

He was fine in that moment letting you believe whatever you wanted.

[BARRY] —

Barry had to do a double take as you strutted around his trailer, searching for something.

“Aye.”

Your head snaps up as you’re on your knees, looking underneath the kitchen table. “Hey Bear, didn’t hear you come in. Have you seen my swirl hoops? Otherwise I’m just going to have to put my Dr. Pepper ones in.”

You’re bending over again and Barry can’t help but to be a peeping Tom. You’re dressed in a dark pinstriped denim corset, and a white flowy skirt that did not leave much to the imagination when you’re down on all fours. You always did say if anyone could see your birthmark, then that means your bottom half was probably too short. However that didn’t apply if you stood upright!

He didn’t know what earrings you were talking about, at all and he didn’t even care.

“Where you goin’ in that?” Barry ignored your question with a question of his own.

Bouncing back on your feet, you spin, skirt twirling as you did so, sitting on the nook chair to slip your feet into your shoes, “It’s girl night, I’m going out.”

“Oh word? I thought you said that brat girl summer shit was over.” Barry slouches on the couch, exhausted from his day at work.

You laugh, “It’s not just a trend, it’s a lifestyle.”

Barry snorts, “Yeah, whatever that means. You look good as hell, though.”

You smile at him in thanks, heading to the back to swap the one swirl earring for your signature Dr. Pepper earrings that you made (along with other styles) and sold online instead. Barry is behind you, leaning in the doorway as you peek at him in the mirror.

“Can I help you?” You tease while Barry shamelessly runs his eyes over the back of your thighs.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m sure you can. By cancelling your plans to hang out with me instead.”

“Oh no.” You whip around after latching onto the bathroom spray, “Kie already said you would try and pull this in the group chat after the pics I sent. Which is why I hoped I would be gone before you came in. You did this last month and I’m not folding this month so control yourself.”

Barry can’t help the dimple that pokes out as he keeps his arms folded, “I ain’t hear much complaining from you then, baby doll.”

“We deserve a girls night, don’t ruin this, please!” You kept the spray aimed right at your boyfriend, almost sitting on the pedestal sink.

Barry wouldn’t be selfish, although he definitely envisioned what the both of you could get into in this cramped bathroom. The both of you heard the horn beeping obnoxiously but the both of you kept your eyes on each other instead.

“Fine, I’ll let you go.” Barry says, “You gotta give me some lovin’ first.”

Turning your eyes into slits you cautiously step forward, making sure the bathroom spray is pressed into his chest, as you leaned forward to smooch his lips.

Of course Barry let the quick kisses last for only a few seconds before he really latched his hands onto you. He let his hands roam all over your body before pulling back to the point there was a bit of saliva that separated you.

“Have fun but don’t you dare let nobody up on what’s mine, you hear me?” He let go of your jaw and licked at the corner of your swollen mouth, “Well don’t just stand there, go on, get!”

With a slap of your ass, which made you jump, you side stepped your boyfriend who had a smug grin on his face, knowing that he would be on your mind while you’re hanging with your girls.

It was all part of the plan.

Cleo was surprisingly in the driver’s seat of Kiara’s pathfinder and as soon as you got into the passenger side, the girls all peered at you.

“Girl!” Kiara starts.

Followed by Sarah who was sitting on the floor behind the driver’s side appearing a little ill as she motioned to her mouth, “You got a little—

You shushed them with a finger up in the air while you pulled on the drop down mirror, “Not a word.”

Which erupted snickers between your friends before Cleo turned the music up.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ──

Morgan rolled her eyes so hard it was a wonder she could still see. “Oh, I understand perfectly. I'm just going to feel pretty stupid explaining to the ER nurse that my teenage daughter got heatstroke for the sake of her Instagram grid.”

Before she could continue, a shriek of laughter that sounded like no good came from the living room. “Elliot! Please watch Chloe - she’s trying to feed the dog crayons!”

Elliot froze mid-crayon handoff. “In fairness, he looks hungry, Mom. Chole is just problem solving.”

“Yeah, well, who is going to solve my empty wallet problem after the vet bill?” Morgan muttered, intercepting the dog before he could swallow a cerulian blue.

She mussed Elliot’s hair. “Unfortunately, they don’t accept smiles from cute little kids as payment these days.”

Morgan knelt on the floor and put Chloe into her car seat, while the dog nudged the box of crayons nearby. The baby was far too delighted with this.

“Oh, don’t act so proud of yourself,” Morgan said, strapping her in. “You’re an accessory to attempted canine poisoning.” But that only made Chloe squeal louder. “Yeah, yeah, you won’t be so happy when I have to press charges!”

They were just about ready to go when Morgan realized she had no idea where she’d left her keys — she rifled through her purse, the diaper bag, the couch cushions. She looked in the freezer, because – why not? Weirder things had happened - when a knock came at the door.

To her surprise, Adam Karadec was standing there – neatly dressed, perfectly coiffed - looking infuriatingly calm and composed amid her domestic hurricane. And dangling in his hand? Her keychain.

“Morning,” he nodded. “You left these in my car after I dropped you off last night. I thought you might need them.”

Morgan’s shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh my God! Thank you! But wait—how did I get in the house last night if you had these?”

Ava’s voice floated into the room. “You came in with me. I was taking out the trash -remember?”

Morgan frowned. “Right. That’s me! IQ of 160, a photographic memory, but apparently no recollection of walking in my front door.”

Adam’s mouth twitched.

“Anyway,” she said, shaking off the thought. “You're a lifesaver. Can I get you a cup of coffee to thank you? I’m making another pot — but warning – it’s industrial strength.”

He hesitated before stepping inside. “Sure, I’ll take my chances.”

Five minutes later, he was leaning against the kitchen counter, coffee mug in hand. He was the picture of serenity as mayhem unfolded around him...

Ava FaceTiming a friend about her outfit. “It’s a farm, Ava, not Milan,” Morgan hollered.

Chloe was throwing cheese puffs at the dog, who was far more pleased than he had been with the crayons.

And Elliot – who had taken it upon himself to explain the entire process of pumpkin farming - “…and if the soil pH is too low, the vines can’t absorb nitrogen efficiently, which is why farmers rotate their crops every two years. It’s basic plant biochemistry.” Adam nodded, doing his best to pretend that he understood half of what he just heard. “Good to know,” he smiled, glancing toward Morgan – he knew exactly where this came from.

He took it all in with the same nonchalant, observant stance he’d use on a stakeout - grateful those skills were coming in handy. “You know,” he mumbled under his breath. “I’m really going to appreciate my quiet, spotless apartment today.”

Morgan glanced at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said, not sure if she was amused or irritated. “So this is what your days off look like?”

“Mock all you want, Karadec,” she teased. “But someone has to keep the world populated — and since it’s clearly not going to be you, I’m just doing my part.”

He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that settled in his eyes. “It’s chaotic, but… you’re doing a good thing - giving them a solid sense of fall spirit.”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed inquisitively. “Are you trying to say something nice to me, Detective?”

He held up a hand. “Just an observation,” he said. “You’re a good mom, Morgan.”

She faltered - was she rendered speechless? She was thinking of something witty to say when her phone buzzed and Ludo’s name appeared. Saved by the bell!

“I... I’ve got to get this.”

She began pacing the floor with the phone pressed to her ear. “Oh no!” She said, face falling. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.... No, no, it’s fine. Do you need me to bring you anything? I can stop by. OK. Feel better.”

She hung up and blew out a breath. “That was Ludo. He’s sick. I guess the pumpkin patch will have to wait for another day."

Ava appeared in the doorway, defiantly dressed in her flannel best. “What? Why?”

“Because,” Morgan said dryly, “once your boyfriend gets here, you’ll forget any of us exist, and I’m not about to brave that much nature and chaos with Elliot and Chloe alone. I’ve got two arms, one brain, and exactly zero death wishes.”

Ava frowned. “Well... your partner just said he had the day free.” Ava turned to Karadec. "Why don't you come?" She was all smiles and puppy eyes; the “Pleeeeeease...” was fully implied.

Adam nearly choked on his coffee. “I— I didn’t say that.”

Morgan smirked. “Relax, Detective Lysol! Ava - Even if he wanted to come along - Karadec isn’t exactly built for this kind of mission. Too many kids, too many germs — I’m pretty sure he’d have to go into detox for 3 weeks after – and honestly – I need him on the job.”

Elliot’s lip began to tremble. “Mom! But you promised!”

Karadec looked from the kids to Morgan, silently weighing something in his mind. “I’ll probably live to regret this,” he mumbled. “But, if I can handle crime scenes, I think I can handle—what’s this place called?”

“Tanaka Farms,” Morgan said cautiously.

“Right. If I can handle a triple homicide, I can handle Tanaka Farms.”

Morgan blinked. “You’re serious? They’re very different dynamics, you know.”

He set his mug down and took the keys out of her hand. “I can’t let the kids down.” He shrugged, his voice softening. “Can’t let you down either. But one thing — I’m driving.”

“Why are you driving?” she asked, semi-offended.

“Because I’ve seen how you take corners.”

“Hey!” Morgan yelled, crossing her arms defensively. “I drive perfectly fine! I was married to a driving instructor, you know!”

“Annnd... you’re divorced now. Tell me,” Karadec turned to her with amusement. “If I ask Ludo, would he say your driving contributed to the split?”

“Very funny!” She smirked, throwing the diaper bag into Karadec’s arms. “Fine. You drive then -  but you’re taking this, too!”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the road. Adam at the wheel, Morgan riding shotgun, and four kids with a duffel bag full of snacks in the back.

“OK, who picked this playlist?” Adam grumbled when a far-too-peppy pop song blared from the speakers.

“I did!” Ava chirped from the third-row seat beside her boyfriend. “You don’t love Sabrina Carpenter, Detective?”

“Who?” Karadec winced.

Elliot pointed at Chloe, who was clapping and squealing to the beat. “Chloe likes it! See?”

Adam adjusted his sunglasses, giving Morgan a side look. “I studied this at the academy. This is psychological warfare.”

Morgan grinned mischievously. “Welcome to parenting. Trust me, the LAPD’s got nothing on this.”

A few seconds later, something squishy hit Karadec in the temple as he drove - the look of horror that fell on his face as the slimy substance dribbled down his cheek could not be described.

“Did someone just throw applesauce at me?”

Morgan tried — and failed — not to laugh.

“It’s not too late to bail, Karadec.” She said before reaching over and cleaning off the side of his face with a Kleenex. "We're only fifteen minutes from home."

Her fingertips tenderly grazed his skin as she wiped away the offensive substance, lingering for just a beat too long, and the air became heavy.

Karadec swore the car went still. Everything – the kids, the music – all dissolved into a warm, ambient haze that he couldn’t explain, much less understand. As he tried to will himself back to the present, there was only one question on his mind – was it just him? Or - by some chance - did she feel it too?

He didn't know, but next to him, Morgan was wrestling with the very same question. Sensing the tension, she pulled her hand back, and Karadec cleared his throat, though nothing could stop the tender smile on his lips.

“If I had half a brain," he said quietly, so only Morgan could hear. "I’d run. But clearly, I’m more deficient in the brain department than I realized.”

Morgan’s mouth curved as she looked out the window. “Oh, your brain’s just fine, old man — most of the time, anyway. I mean – it’s not as good as mine, but...”

“Morgan...” he deadpanned.

She turned to him with a knowing smile. “We can talk about your brain another time – honestly, I have some pointers for you. But your heart?" She paused. "Your heart’s a lot bigger than you let on. I know that now.”

“Well, let’s keep that between us,” he grinned, eyes on the road. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Then you’d better bribe Ava not to post any pictures of you today,” Morgan said, unbuckling her seatbelt as they pulled into Tanaka Farm’s parking lot. She reached into her bag and held up a garish orange knit cap shaped like a pumpkin. “Because the minute the world sees you wearing this at Tanaka Farm, that carefully curated tough-guy rep of yours? Gone. Right out the window.”

Karadec was genuinely horrified. “No. I have to draw a line somewhere,” he insisted. “I’m not wearing a pumpkin hat.”

Morgan lifted Chloe out of her car seat, hoisting her onto her hip. “We’ll see,” she winked.

“Morgan…”

But Morgan only grinned over her shoulder as the kids tumbled out of the SUV, their laughter echoing through the lot. “Come on, partner. Let’s go make some fall memories.” 🍂

(To write the day at the pumpkin farm, or not to write the day at the pumpkin farm? That is the question. Lol)

I did! Part 2 - the day at the pumpkin farm - can be found here.

“…anyway! Sorry for holding up your line.”

It was a whole bunch of nothing without saying anything yet you could read between the lines. You deleted the voicemail, not checking to see how many minutes the message was in the first place. Sipping at your herbal tea, you sat in silence for a moment before you got a notification that your driver was waiting for you downstairs.

Time to get the bag.

As a businesswoman, your job was to get shit done and be professional. Some already referred to you as a lioness, taking the silent strike approach when it came to deals. You were thrown into this meeting last minute since your partner decided to back out of it. Talks about this experiment was in the works months ago and you knew he would give it up once your company was officially reached out to since science and the environment was never his “thing.”

It was too boring for him!

Your assistant gave you the run down of what the potential client(s) were trying to accomplish and always the punctual one, you had at least fifteen minutes to get the gist of this major project in full.

“Three out of the seven of The Tornado Wranglers came all the way out here to New York,” You greet as you wait for them to approach the head of the table, “Welcome to Apexi Co.”

Tyler sends a wide grin your way, clasping your hand with both hands, “Ma’am, thank you for meeting with us and so last minute too.”

The trio were informed that they would be meeting with someone else due to “creative differences,” but never dropped any names.

Kate’s eyes were wide as she flicked Javi’s shoulder from behind, “isn’t that…”

Javi hummed out a, “Uh huh.”

Kate’s success with her project was huge but Javi’s idea for this next new thing, required a lot of money and needed an investor. They had one with Kate’s but Javi knew that business needed to keep booming. So he came up with his own idea, that was crazy but brilliant.

Once gaining their friendship back, Javi encouraged Kate to see what could happen with the cow-boy with the grinch laughter lines, Kate couldn’t help but to wonder what Javi’s love life was like. She learned that there was one girl in the service that he commonly hooked up with but apparently he was too stuck on Kate and dealing with grief to dive into a meaningful relationship.

That is until he met you.

It’s been some time since Kate and Javi reconnected. She suspected there was someone else and as soon as Javi spilled that there was? It was over before she and the rest of the wranglers got to meet you.

All because Javi had a pattern of going back to the past.

Kate saw pictures though and even browsed your socials to see that you brought a lot to the table. Not to say that the old vet he was back involved with, didn’t…Kate just never saw the military life for Javi in the first place. She’ll say that!

He got caught on the balcony of your apartment, late at night on the phone with the girl from the service.

It wasn’t as simple as you think and it wasn’t just talking.

“…and these are my partners, Javi Rivera and Kate Carter.”

Your eyes held a flash of something in them before it vanished. You were never one to show your cards but nonetheless, a smile was on your lips as you shook both hands.

“Please have a seat.” You gesture to the empty seats.

Javi felt as if he could just melt into the floor, being in the same presence as you after all this time.

A lot can happen in two years.

A elbow to his side, makes Javi snap his attention back to you. You have a brow quirked up while your eyes slowly blinked, awaiting an answer.

“I’m—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Javi clears his throat, lightly rubbing at the facial hair he was now sporting.

A smile stays on your lips, “Certainly Mr. Rivera. Since you are the lead of this project, would you mind telling us how this differs from…Kate’s project?” You peek at the notes, although you had a photographic memory.

Javi glanced at Kate who dips her heard at him in support. He turns back to you and you listen as he goes into depth passionately about the use of androids that would be able to track the change in weather in states that are most affected by tornados. Javi slides over the mock-up design to your view, “They will be able to alert everyone much faster than a simple warning siren. Depending on what they’re programmed for, I have two versions: one that will also go into the tornado to decrease its intensity in a quicker manner than Kate’s project and then the other version will tend to those who need to be escorted to safe zones and assist in the clean up after.”

The room goes quiet, as the three watch you scribble some notes down.

Javi licks at his bottom lip, waiting in anticipation for whatever else you had to say. He watched nervously as your assistant leans towards you, with you whispering in their ear.

“I’ve reviewed the video that was sent over of you giving a test run of your project. Very impressive. The android that was delivered just last night is being analyzed as we speak.” You inform, “Congratulations…we’ll give you a trial run for two months to see your progress. If successful, you’ll be fully funded by Apexi co.”

That almost felt too easy.

Even with the hugs from Kate and congratulatory squeezes on Javi’s shoulder from Tyler.

“Good luck.” You tell Javi on your way out.

Which sent him right to the restroom, sick over not you agreeing to take on his project, but the fact that he was seeing you after leaving a rambling voicemail on your phone. If you listened to it, you gave nothing away. Your business suit was on and that only made Javi miss you more.

He’s holding onto his stomach, when he leaves the restroom, looking around the modern appearance of the company but he knows Tyler and Kate are waiting for him downstairs outside. Javi tries to shake off the nerves and start walking again but not without spotting you by the elevators, typing away on your phone.

It was now or never.

“Hey uh…I appreciate you deciding to take us on, considering…well you know.” Javi speaks from your left.

Blinking, you shift and say, “Considering that you emotionally cheated on me with an ex? You can say it you know. I’m not going to crumble to the floor at the mention of what happened. Plus it’s a great business opportunity and I know how to keep personal business separate…if you’re successful in this you won’t be dealing with me much anyway.”

“What if I want to.” Javi finds himself saying, his honey haze hues peered at you.

Your head tilts to the side, catching the hint, “I’d say your shit is outta luck then if you think this is going to develop into something more.”

Javi feels as if his heart was a balloon slowly deflating. “I…don’t know if I ever apologized.”

“You did.” You dip your head, “and life went on. I’d like to ask how life’s going with her but…I can already tell just by what you’re trying to pull here.”

“I’m not trying to pull anything I just…can’t get you outta my head.”

“That’s unfortunate for you.” You say with a furrow of your brow, trying not to be condescending but it still came out that way, “And also not my problem? You made your choice.”

You’re both entering the elevator, just the two of you with the doors closing you both in. It was suffocating for Javi, who rubbed at the slight ache that formed in the back of his neck, just listening to you be so closed off with him.

So cold…but what did he expect?

Javi hated to admit it but it was his truth, “She’s not you.”

“I know.” You exhale before turning your head to meet Javi’s saddened eyes, “And I know your heart…at least I thought I did. Listen to me when I say this, so that I’m clear. This will strictly be a business relationship…I finally fell out of love. As for you? Look at it this way, this will all just be another project for you to figure out, right?”

A ding is heard, before the doors are open and you walk out first, slipping some shades over your eyes as you blend into the crowd. At this point Javi knows there’s no need to chase after you, he screwed up what was once good for something that should be temporary.

There was nothing else there but lust with his old fling.

And now?

There were no ties to you either, you would make sure of that.

Which is as good as nothing, if you asked Javi.

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“What’s wrong?” Armando repeated, “Where were you huh? You weren’t there at the press meeting—

With a dramatic sigh you interrupted as you picked up a utensil to stab into the kale salad, “You mean the press meeting where they slaughtered you for the fuck shit you’ve been pulling? Why would I need to be there for that?”

Armando raised his brows, “You’re my lady, did you forget? You’re supposed to be beside me whenever I speak to the public, why are you acting brand new?”

Covering your mouth as you let out some laughter, you finished eating your portion of an appetizer, “That’s the thing, I’ve been by your side and when I don’t want to? I won’t be. I had better things to do today. It’s that simple.”

Armando’s eyes went to everyone else at the table, to make sure that he wasn’t hearing things. It shouldn’t be a shock to him, neither of you two were strictly by the book and marched to your own drums, just ask the people of the state who were not a fan of you two, they automatically felt like Armando was and still is a crook. Then there were those who felt like you could do better.

The opinion of sheep in some cases, right?

He was just a businessman that got shit done.

Like it or not.

“A First Lady’s obligiation is to be involved in social affairs. That’s just one of many.” Armando states which makes you tilt your head to the side, laughing once more.

He should be the last one preaching to you.

“Sure and my obligation today was to prioritize self care.” You inhale as you return back to your plate of salad, “I’m glad that I don’t have to beg for your attention, since you apparently miss me so much that you care more about how the public is labeling you. That’s something you should have thought about before you picked the streets over your queen, no?”

Armando immediately knew what you were getting at. It was tossed at him by one of the journalists who outed that the woman Armando was seen spending many outings with behind your back, had been talking about their quality times together for the right price. Fresh off the press, it was something you were aware of at 2 this morning which was sadly confirmed by Dorn over the phone before it hit news.

You had no issue collecting your things around 5 in the morning, when you could have slapped Armando awake but you couldn’t bring yourself to be blind sided. It was suspected every time Armando extended his trips in Key West. You can’t fix stupid and choices have consequences. This has all come to a hilt and this is exactly what the people wanted, to see you upset so why bother trying to save face when you already knew the truth?

“Maybe we should let you two have this conversation in private?” Theresa, Marcus’ wife speaks up, already placing her handkerchief on the table.

Shrugging your shoulders you say, “We’re all a family here right? What happens in the palace stays in the palace. Except…not with what’s her name? Dinah. Thee aspiring photo journalist who comes from a lineage of racist assassins…I know her family is having a field day with this one. How many nights did you let her stay in one of these rooms or better yet, our bed?”

“It was never our bed.” Armando snaps, making Marcus widened his eyes, and lightly scratch at his ear at what his new nephew let slip through his lips.

This time you cackled with your head thrown back.

Armando glared at you, “I don’t know what you’re laughing at because ain’t shit funny.”

Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you nod in agreement as you stared over at your husband in the dim dining hall, “You’re right. It’s hilarious because I just realized I can’t be bothered anymore.”

This is what November’s are for. Saying no to things that no longer have use to you. Getting rid of things to allow the growth to start all over again.

So why was this man playing in your face?

It did sting because it felt like your time was wasted, with a man that should have loved you better. If he wanted to play around, he should have just said that instead of trying to make you out to be a fool. Shouldn’t have even married you if he was going to later second guess your time together. Maybe that wasn’t Armando’s intentions but you just didn’t have the energy to do too much back and forth tonight.

The both of you got into this position of power because of Armando’s mother mainly. Isabel and her husband, Benito—although Mexico City natives—had strong ties to Miami but with their power was also handed down to Armando. It turns out that this was what they were training Armando so hard for as a kid. It was an ugly business, gritty and brutal with the way it turned out but with the way the government was forever changing? Thanks to Benito who had connections with the (dirty) American government, Armando was next in line regardless and knew if he didn’t take his shot, he would miss out on this big opportunity and he wanted nothing more than to take you right with him. Once upon a time, Armando couldn’t picture anyone else ruling this state with him.

Power can make you do questionable things and Armando unfortunately fell into that.

“What does that mean?” Armando quizzed.

“It’s means you’re not as calculated as you think you are,” you pointed the fork in his direction, “And I’m going to move on. Consider this a lesson learned.”

Armando tightened his jaw at your words, “I should have known that you’ve been working against me.”

“No, no. Don’t try and spin this.” You express, “I’m the only one that gets to point fingers. I loved you through your flaws, which is why I don’t love you any less after you’ve been shitting where you shouldn’t eat. You don’t know who to trust and I’m your wife. We’re supposed to be some sort of a union but I guess we’re not. Doesn’t that sound problematic to you?”

Armando scoffed as he let his back rest against the extravagant chair, “What’s problematic is you secretly plotting against me.”

Kelly can’t help but to step in, although Dorn attempts to firmly squeeze her thigh underneath the table, a signal for her to not get involved but she shoves his hand off her, “Look Armando, I’ve been working with you for a good while on this term and your paranoia is out of this world. We can blame your mother for that sure but you got to work through that shit at some point man. You got in your head and now look at you, about to lose your wife. Someone you loved enough to want to spend an eternity with just to let this presidency get to you. It’s clown behavior, I’m just saying.”

“Well nobody asked you, Kelly.” Armando muttered with a strong side eye.

“I don’t care.” The dark haired woman sassed, “I’m not going to be the one enabling you. You’re a dumbass.”

That made you smile.

Kelly scrapped her chair back, looking at all the faces that sat at the table, “And neither should the rest of you, especially you two.” She stared hard at Mike who raised his brows at Kelly’s usual bluntness and Marcus who raised his hands in innocence, “I know where I’m going once you don’t win a second term.” She finishes, looking at Armando one last time before giving you a sharp nod and taking her exit.

Armando stared after her in disbelief, although his usual blank facial expression shielded that well. Yet when he settled his eyes on Dorn, who looked torn, since the two managed to build a solid friendship and partnership—it was actually Armando, Dorn, and Reggie that were the main faces of his term.

“Sorry man,” The blond found himself apologizing but Armando just shrugs his shoulders, knowing Dorn had no true aim on leaving—at least he didn’t have that conversation with Armando.

Wait a minute…

Armando tightened his gaze on you, “You mind telling me what Kelly is getting at?”

It was your turn to shrug your shoulders, “Not everyone can be yes men, ladies, or people. People want balance, I wanted balance. You couldn’t even give me that because you value chess over love and it’s really sad.”

The tone you were taking with him, speaking so at ease with a wicked smile at the corner of your lips, and the glint in your eyes did not feel warm. There was a chill right underneath it. The longer Armando searched your eyes, he started to feel his heart race.

And not in a good way.

“Oh those gears are turning now aren’t they, Mr. Soon to be Ex-President?” You grinned.

Armando stands up so fast that he knocks the chair he was sitting in back, “You can’t be fucken serious?!”

Giggling, you dabbed at the corners of your mouth, “Why wouldn’t I be? Always best to be a few steps ahead right? That is what you once said. And I have you to thank for that, so, thank you. Thank you for making me realize what’s worth my time since I’m not yours. Are you ready to be my First Gentleman?”

Armando felt his eye twitch at the ball you just dropped. “Did you know?” He turns to his father.

Mike shakes his head, “No ‘Mando I didn’t but can you fault her?”

“So you’re taking her side?!”

Christine speaks up so her husband didn’t also raise his voice, “Honey, I know you’re upset but let’s turn it down a notch and just hear each other out.”

Before Armando can say more, you shake your head, “I don’t have anything else to say quite frankly. I’m running and if I don’t win then that’s fine too but as long as you don’t get a second term? That’ll be even better. Too much stress isn’t good for the baby.”

All the older adults whipped their heads to you at this news.

“What did you just say?” Mike splutters out.

Christine and Secada both shared a deep frown.

Marcus said, “I know I’m in no position to ever speak on a woman’s body…were you not just sipping on some fizz?”

You scanned all the faces in the room, and the amount of times Armando caressed his facial hair made you think he was about to pass out.

“Ah, I had y’all going didn’t i?” You winked, which visibly made everyone relax, “Can you imagine? Me trying to take over the world while carrying a heir? Real queen shit but…hopefully Dinah doesn’t pop back up talking about a bundle of joy of her own within the next few days because I might just actually have to bury your ass, and pretend you went missing, I don’t know.”

You said all this with a smile that made Christine share a worried glance with Theresa who couldn’t blame you. Reggie quietly finished his meal, wanting to finish it all before they all got kicked out but it’s not like he would have said much in the first place but he was definitely listening. He was the only one who knew what Armando was up to with Dinah until you approached Dorn to gather information (hack into Key West’s cameras and common areas Armando would be at out there) that was slowly about to released into the world.

“Don’t joke like that.” Armando muttered, palms flat on the table.

You blink, “Why? You took this marriage as one.”

Armando shakes his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so we’re gaslighting now? Were you or were you not involved with another woman?” You interrogated.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Armando tried to tell you, he wasn’t physical with Dinah at all but if he looked back at it, it was still a form of cheating.

“Screencaps say different. Yapper Dinah says different…but no stress…maybe there will be a divorce or open marriage if that’s more your speed…I’m not sure what I’m feeling just yet though. TBD?”

Armando clasped his hands above his head, low lidded eyes settled on you as he tried to control his breathing, “Are you loca?”

“Nooo! Don’t say that.” Mike immediately shook his head already aware that was the wrong thing to say, shifting his gaze from a collected you and his iritated son.

Marcus also tried to intervene, “Nope.”

Instead all at the table watched you give off another round of laughter. This was not a good sign, it sounded chaotic and everyone can sense you were over it.

Resting one arm along the table and resting your cheek against the knuckles of your other hand you respond, “I could show you but I’ll let the universe do her thing, baby.”

With that you take your entree plate and start to leave the table but not without saying over your shoulder followed by a wave, “Thanks for coming to dinner everyone, my apologies for my late arrival but most importantly, I’m sorry Arman wasn’t the best host. Have a great night, I know I will.” You sing-song, feeling giddy at tonight’s plans.

Armando began to walk after you but Mike was already up and on his feet as well. He latched onto his son’s shoulder, “Aye, you gotta eat this one. Let some steam off before y’all can have a civil conversation, without us being your audience, ya know?”

“You might need some witnesses just in case she murder yo ass.” Marcus attempted with a chuckle, just to be slapped on his chest by Theresa, “Ow! Y’all all heard what she said right?”

“Shut up, Marcus.” Theresa tells her husband before Mike can.

Armando felt his eyes close once the guards shut the door behind you. You being out of his life out of something so one sided, was frustrating and not only that? Now you wanted to run against him during the next election? Then on top of that, you were considering ending this marriage and being so at peace with it too? That didn’t sit well with Armando.

So yeah, he was stressed.

“You know, you screwed up right? When a woman is that calm over your mishaps…that means deep shit.” Secada tells Armando at the front door of the palace, who huffs and rolls his eyes, “Hey as your SecDef who did just see you get your ass handed to you, again, I’m just stating the obvious and trying to help.”

“If I wanted your input, I would have asked.”

“Don’t take it out on me.” Secada affirms, “Usually your defense is better than this which already tells me, whatever you got yourself wrapped into with Dinah, is clearly messing up your judgment and now there’s consequences.”

Armando waved his hand along, still holding the front door open, “Tell me something I don’t know, General.”

Secada placed her hands on her hips as she now stands outside, “…Sitting on top of the world can be lonely, Aretas. Look at your mother—hell just talk to Mike. Don’t let that be your story when you truly have someone who only wanted to be loved by you and has loved you in return.”

“…Heard you.” Is all Armando says with a dip of his head, and Secada can tell that he was taking that part of her words in.

With a final hug of the night to tía Theresa, Christine, and a unwanted one from tío Marcus, Armando shares another somewhat lengthy chat with Mike on not pressing the issue anymore but after Armando remembered that you were trying to go out tonight, that went in one ear and out the other.

He wasn’t shocked to not find you in the primary bedroom, searching one of the ten rooms, finding you on the east wing, tucked far into the palace and out of sight. Armando knew you were in there based on the music vibrating from the door and a bowl you had resting outside the door on a tray.

Armando knocks hard, knowing you should be able to hear him over the bass. You take your time, coming to the door now dressed in a corset, mini skirt, tall boots, and hair in a claw clip. There was no shame in Armando’s game as he drank you in with his eyes, damn you looked good, but that was not the point.

“Where you goin’?”

“A girls night out on the town and that’s all I’m saying on that.” You announce with your chin up in the air before spinning to head back into the room, “Are you going to try and hold me hostage in here? If so, then you’re really asking for a fight.”

“No,” Armando lifted his shoulders with his lips pushed out a bit, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t go out tonight though.”

With a long sigh, you picked up your necklace, placing it in Armando’s palm so he could put it on you. “Well…we can’t always get what we want, right? It’s just like auntie Whitney said, it’s not right but it’s okay, I’m gonna make it anyway.”

Once clasped you turned back to face your husband. Your fingers went to his forehead to smooth out the lines there, “Stress brings wrinkles.”

“Kelly keeps telling me to get Botox…just in case, although my melanin should work in my favor.”

You snort, “Your body your choice, baby. Anyways! I’ve got to run, don’t wait up.”

It was Armando’s turn to grab your wrist, which you halt although you wanted to snatch it right back. However you kept your breathing steady and slowly faced the brown eyed man, questioning what he wanted silently. Something the both of you commonly did, socializing with just your eyes.

“…I hope you’re not for real thinking about ending things?”

Brushing a strand that fell into your eye, thanks to tilting your head to the side you say, “is that really a conversation you want to get into tonight? It’s been a long day.”

“Mine’s longer.”

He was the damn president after all.

“Ah yes, a competition with my unfaithful husband.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

How else could he have meant it?

“What is it exactly you want from me?” You question Armando, “To yell, scream, or cry? All the above? Drag your name through the press so you really end this term in a dumpster fire? That’s not me, never has been and I thought you knew that. I’m just done…probably numb? If I look into your eyes long enough, I can feel my heart wanting to race because I’ve really adored all parts of you until now. Then there’s this stronger side of me that says, maybe I’ve had enough too and just waited too late to see that.”

Armando can feel you fading from his grasp but he only had himself to blame for that. He cleared his throat, scratching at the side of the bridge of his nose as he followed you down the hallway before speaking up, “I think we still owe one another a final convo…once we sleep on it.”

“Okay, Arman,” is all you say texting away on your phone to let him know you heard him but still dreaded that, you knew the most important part of that talk would be the election because over the last few years, that became more important than your marriage, “Goodnight, don’t let the thoughts bite.”

And he stops following you, letting you disappear from his sight.

In bed, Armando lays on his back staring up at the ceiling constantly checking his socials, skipping over the constant talk of his fuck ups with Dinah being put on blast, ignored her texts, and searched for you, to see what you were up to.

Ultimately he would be the one up all night stressed over you.

And if you really chose to think about it, that would be fine by you.

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