October

A pleasant burn spread through each muscle of mine, and I drew a lungful of crisp autumn air as Jim and I rounded a corner and ran to the marina.

“You okay?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. His bicep flexed under his black shirt that clung to his torso, and I slowed without realizing it, eyes roaming his arms.

Jim smirked, coming to a halt. “Let's have coffee so you can take your time looking.”

“How cocky of you.”

He slid an arm around my shoulders and jostled me into him, laughing with his lips against my temple. “I'm flattered, cute little thing. Looks like I still got it.”

After planting a kiss on my forehead, Jim strolled to a coffee shop where we usually had breakfast after our morning run. I took a table by the window overlooking the docked yachts, and Jim went to place our order.

A few minutes later, he put a cappuccino and a chocolate muffin in front of me and sat in a chair opposite mine.

“So, what are your plans for today?” Jim asked, bringing his black coffee to his lips.

I washed the bite of my muffin down with the cappuccino and rested the cup on the white ceramic platter. “Work. I'll have to skip class today. Otherwise, I won't meet the deadline for the article. You?”

“No meetings. Just a rehearsal for our next show. Do you think we could drive to Alfie’s in the afternoon?”

I reached across the table and ran my fingertips over Jim’s jaw. “Why? You want us to have some alone time?”

Whenever we felt overwhelmed with our schedules and commitments, we escaped the chaos of the city and spent a day or two at the Victorian. It'd been a while, though, because the renovations reached their final stage, and workers were at the house all the time.

Jim angled his head and trapped my pinkie between his lips, biting it. “Always. But also, everything’s ready. I promised Hudson I'd check what his team did.”

“Okay.” I smiled. “We could cook in the new kitchen. Or buy something on our way there.”

“Sounds great.”

The door opened, and a young couple strolled in.

Jim glanced at them and took my hand in his. “Dec will take you to the office, okay?”

I groaned. “Baby.”

“I'll pick you up after work. You'd have to leave your car there if you drove.”

The reasoning was logical, but there must’ve been more to it. Jim’s protectiveness reached a new high after my trip to New York back in July. I blamed it on the long distance we weren't used to, but the trend continued when he returned home. Dec took me to classes and the office with suspicious frequency, and Jim insisted it was for my comfort’s sake.

He kissed each finger of mine and released my hand. I finished eating my muffin, downed my coffee, and waited for Jim to be done with his breakfast.

As soon as he paid the check, we exited the coffee shop and strolled home, enjoying the calm moments together before the craziness of the day started.

***

By the time I finished writing and proofreading the article about the children's book fair I attended, only a few people remained at the office. Jim wouldn't pick me up for another thirty minutes, and I settled at my desk with the manuscript of my novel to pass the time.

I lost count of the drafts it took me to finally have something I was proud of. Mr. Davis and I still had our now monthly sessions, focusing on the second book I was editing. His suggestions, paired with what I learned in my degree, made shaping my manuscript into the book I'd want as a reader easier, and lately, he'd been hinting at me trying to look for an agent.

I wasn't opposed to the idea, and the research I did told me I'd likely be rejected a handful of times like every author I loved was before they landed the desired deal. I was ready on the one hand and extremely unprepared to let people know I wrote on the other. Jim and Harper loved my book, but even if they didn't, they'd never offer the harsh critique a random reader might.

I leafed through pages, pausing to reread the sections I edited the most. One of the scenes in the middle still didn't feel quite right, but I failed to come up with a better way to word things no matter how many times I'd looked at it.

“Ava.” Virginia’s voice rose outside my office, followed by a knock on the doorframe.

I rose to my feet, gathered the pages of the manuscript, and put them on top of the stack of folders on my desk. “Come in.”

Virginia marched into the room, already clad in her red coat, holding a matching purse. “What are you doing here? You've been at the office since morning; go get some rest.”

“Jim’s picking me up in a bit,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. “I'm just passing the time.”

“I see.” Virginia pushed a strand of her black hair aside with her manicured fingers as if her perfect pixie cut needed fixing and cast a glance at my desk — the part of it I hoped she wouldn't lay her gaze on.

She stepped forward and cocked her head, studying the first page of my novel.

My cheeks aflame, I scooped a bunch of gel pens up from the desk and shoved them into my pencil bag.

“The Secret of the Misty Morning by Ava Morris,” Virginia read. Her eyes cut to mine, and she tapped her crimson nail on the snow-white page. “This right here. You write.”

I managed an unconvinced nod, and my boss extended her hand, reaching for the pages. “May I?”

“Sure.” I pushed the word out of my dry mouth and went on to tidy my desk to avoid looking at one of the women I admired the most perusing my imperfect creation.

“I want to read it. No, I need to read it.”

The agenda I’d grabbed slipped out of my hands and landed on the white keyboard. “Um…I mean, you could if you want to.”

She kept turning pages, her forehead creased like each time she was engrossed in a task. “A glass of red wine, some classical music, and this…sorry, husband, what a perfect plan for a Friday night. Done.” She gathered the pages and pressed the thick stack to her chest. “Thank you.”

Thank me? I'd laugh if the nerves weren’t seizing my insides. Instead, I grabbed my purse and my phone and nodded toward the door. “Jim will be here now. Should we?”

Virginia’s phone rang when I shut my office door behind us, and she waved at me, pressing the cell to her ear, my manuscript firmly in her grasp as she sauntered toward the elevators.

Leslie and Kim had already left. Luckily, a text from Jim lit my phone screen, and I wasted no time taking an elevator downstairs.

“Hey.” Jim kissed my lips as soon as we both sat in his car. “Sorry for making you wait. We couldn't get the solo right, and it drove me wild.”

“You weren't late.” I yawned, fastening my seatbelt. Jim caressed my knee before starting the car, and I closed my eyes as soon as he drove out of the parking spot.

***

The nap on our drive to Alfie’s was the best remedy for my tiredness and nerves. I felt rested now as Jim and I explored the unrecognizable interior of the Victorian.

We chose to preserve some pieces of Alfie’s furniture, but now they were in a much better shape, restored and polished to perfection. Tiny rooms on the first floor gave way to a spacious sitting area with armchairs and a sectional opposite the fireplace. We could glimpse the kitchen through the arched doorway, and the dining area was big enough for a huge family gathering or a party with friends.

“How about celebrating the New Year's here?” Jim asked, wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind. “It’ll be nice to spend time with everyone, and the house has plenty of bedrooms.”

I rested my head on his shoulder. “I like that. Plus, it snows here.”

“Yeah. If I hadn't promised my parents we’d spend Christmas with them in Westmore, I would’ve invited them here.”

I turned my head and pressed my lips to his jaw. “Show me the rest.”

Jim chuckled. “Okay. Close your eyes. I have a surprise.”

Climbing the stairs of the Victorian with Jim’s hands covering my eyes wasn't an easy task. We stumbled more than once, and by the time we reached what I imagined to be the attic, I was slightly out of breath.

The door creaked, and I heard the click of a light switch. “Welcome,” Jim said, removing his palm.

It was already dark outside, but in the room, everything was light — the white walls and the long desk in front of the window, the floor-to-ceiling shelves, and the two armchairs where I couldn't wait to curl with a book.

“I wanted you to have your space to write. And read,” Jim said softly. “If you need anything else, I have time tomorrow, and we could look at stuff.”

“Oh my God.” I whipped around and circled Jim’s neck with my arms. He laughed when I peppered kisses over his face and squeezed my waist, rubbing his thumbs over the curves.

“I'm happy you like it.”

“Like it? This is the sweetest, the most thoughtful thing anyone could've done for me.”

Jim winked. “I had an ulterior motive, cute little thing.”

Before I could ask what, he slid his hands lower. “You on that desk with your beautiful legs spread for me.”

“Sounds like a plan for later,” I said, leaning in for a kiss. “But first, food.”

***

We ate the reheated takeout in the new kitchen and took the wine glasses to the porch, where we settled on a loveseat. Jim covered us with a blanket, and I curled against him as he caressed my hair, sipping his wine.

“I need to know something,” I said.

“Anything.”

“Why do you insist on Dec taking me to work and classes?”

Jim’s deep sigh echoed in the quiet. “Baby.”

I traced patterns on his chest. “We promised to be honest with each other, remember? We said we’d communicate.”

“And we are.” Jim rested the glass on his bent knee. “I’m just calmer this way, okay? Back in July Dec saw a black vehicle outside our apartment complex. I remembered when one almost ran you over, and…”

I cupped his jaw. “Jimmy…that’s ridiculous. Months have passed. If anyone wanted to do anything, they would’ve done so by now.”

“I’ve seen enough shit happen to the people I care about to take anything suspicious lightly, Ava. Call me overbearing, but you know there will be more shows and more days on the road. Dec is someone I trust, and—”

“Okay,” I whispered. “If that gives you peace, okay. Just give him time off when we’re both in the city.”

He took a drink of his wine, nodding. “Except when you’re working late and have to walk home when it’s dark. How was work, by the way?”

The image of Virginia holding my book appeared in front of my eyes, replacing the trees in Alfie’s garden. “I think the article is good," I said. And Virginia asked to read my book.”

“For real?” Jim arched a brow. “That’s so cool. I’m happy for you, baby.”

I gulped down the rest of my wine and left my goblet on the small table we’d put for when we had dinner outside. “I don’t know if it’s cool. She’s such an avid reader that someone's draft might not live up to her expectations. And she’s my boss. It’s awkward.”

“Hey.” Jim pulled me into his embrace, and his warmth instantly enveloped me. “You’re just jittery. You’ll have to let others read your work at some point, you know? And it’s safe to say you did everything you could.”

“I think so, but I’m nervous.”

Jim kissed the corner of my mouth. “Don’t be.”

I inched closer. My chest pressed against his, and his hands weaved into my hair as our lips touched with urgency. The kind of calm I only felt with Jim spread through my body, melting the remaining tension.

We kissed until the desire to touch each other without barriers became unbearable.

One more kiss was all it took for Jim to carry me to our renovated bedroom.

***

I woke up the way I fell asleep — with Jim hugging me, his legs and mine intertwined beneath the sheets. I rubbed my eyes and grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

It was barely after eight a.m., but a text was waiting for me. I opened the chat.

Virginia: I stayed up all night, and your characters are to blame. You’re ready to query.

It's the New Year's in the next one. I guess you've been wondering what Ava's dad is up to...