Not anymore.
Today, I’m looking forward to spending my time with family and friends. I have so damn much to be grateful for, especially the woman who’s asleep in my arms. I smile, thinking about Julie, who carved herself into me without even trying.
I tighten my hold on her.
Eden would’ve adored her. She would’ve seen what I see—how Julie doesn’t give a damn about my last name, my bank account, or the skyline I used to worship. She would’ve loved her for giving me back the one thing I thought I’d lost forever … a sense of home.
Julie stirs, mumbling something incoherent, then tips her head back with a sleepy smile. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too.” I kiss her temple.
A half hour later, we’re wrapped in blankets on her condo balcony, peppermint cocoa warming our hands while the Cozy Creek Thanksgiving parade begins on Main Street below.
It’s ridiculous and charming—exactly like this town.
A giant inflatable pumpkin bobs between two pickup trucks. Kids in construction-paper pilgrim hats wave from the back of a hay wagon. The high-school marching band stumbles through a holiday medley, horns blaring just off-key enough to make Julie snort.
I glance at her flushed cheeks and see the sparkle in her eyes. “You know, we only have one last thing to check off the naughty list.”
Her head whips toward me. “You want to do thatnow?”
“When else will we have another opportunity?”
“Christmas,” she tells me.
“Do you want to wait until then?” I ask her.
“Nope.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I smirk, dropping to my knees and sliding between the balcony wall and her so she can still watch the parade. I slide her pajama shorts and panties down. She adjusts the blanket on her shoulders, then glances down at me.
“You’re sure?”
“Hell yeah. Enjoy it, sweetheart.”
She gasps when my tongue slides over her. Her hips jerk forward, and her knuckles go white against the railing. I can hear the parade noise of people cheering, horns in the distance, and the rumble of engines. The only thing that matters is how sweet she tastes on my tongue.
“Tell me what you see,” I mutter. My breath is hot against her, and my fingers open her thighs wider.
Her voice breaks. “Th-the—oh?—”
Her head tips back, her throat working as she forces herself to keep watching the parade. “The Cozy Creek Elementary cheer squad is wearing matching sweaters …”
I suck her clit between my lips, humming approval. Her body jolts, her knees already trembling.
“What else?”
Julie’s laugh cracks into a moan. “N-Nick—the Boy Scout troop is in a float that’s built like a giant turkey.”
I thrust my tongue inside her, and she bites her lip.
“Keep going,” I whisper.
Her voice is hoarse now, half breathless, half daring. “The … oh … don’t stop … the middle school marching band. They’re playing ‘Jingle Bells,’ but … oh my … they’re completely off-key.”
I drag two fingers along her soaked slit, circling before pushing inside, curling just right. Her words stumble, dissolving into gasps.
