Alive At Night (Wildflower Series Book 1)

I WOKE UP TO a text from Julian, and I smiled into my pillow—two events I never thought would happen.

JULIAN: Can you meet me at Georgia’s before work?

Georgia’s? Why?

JULIAN: I need help with something. And you said it’s your favorite.

I’d told him that Georgia’s was my favorite bakery once. Once. And he had been making fun of me during the entire conversation. How did he possibly remember that?

What time?

One glance at the clock told me that I’d already slept longer than usual, and if I planned on making a stop before work, I should leave soon.

JULIAN: I can be ready whenever.

Since when did you become an early riser?

JULIAN: Since I had a pretty girl to impress.

I stared at my phone for at least a minute, telling myself that none of this was real. Even after everything he’d said last night, this felt too much like fiction.

JULIAN: I’ll see you there at 8.

Sure, it’s a date.

As soon as the text entered cyberspace, I cringed and began sending a follow-up message.

Well, not a *date* date. Just a planned time and date to meet you at Georgia’s, of course.

JULIAN: Of course.

JULIAN: Our first date isn’t going to be a rushed bakery visit that ends with eight hours in an office. I have better plans than that. For both the date and the after-party.

You do, huh?

JULIAN: Don’t act surprised. You heard me last night.

JULIAN: See you soon, Juni.

See you soon.

Oh, and Julian?

JULIAN: Yes, Juniper?

The flattery is unnecessary. You don’t have to do that.

JULIAN: Oh, it’s necessary. Been holding my tongue for far too long.

This time when I turned my head into the pillow, I screamed.

And then I sprinted to my shower. I had less than an hour to figure out what I would wear, and I would need every minute of it.

I took the daily event of getting dressed very seriously. Working as a woman in a male-dominated field meant that presentation was as important as anything else. A staggering number of people in this world wouldn’t listen to a word out of my mouth unless they liked the lipstick on it.

However, even though I knew I should dress a certain way to be taken seriously, I struggled to do it. Office attire for women—all those pantsuits and sharp blazers—seemed like another way to perpetuate the idea that professionalism was akin to masculinity. But I found that wearing dresses with soft lines did nothing to undermine my credibility as a lawyer. I was still damn good at my job.

Today was more than just dressing for the job, and scouring my closet for the right outfit had never been more important.

A race against the clock later, I walked into Georgia’s wearing one of my favorite long-sleeved wrap dresses beneath my winter coat. Julian, who was already in line, smiled when he spotted me, and I stomped my feet a little on the inside mat to knock the snow and slush off my heeled boots.

Joining him in line, I returned his smile, feeling a little shy. I didn’t know how to do this, how to be around this smiley version of Julian. But luckily, he took the lead, putting a hand on the small of my back and leaning down to murmur about the menu.

“I was thinking we should bring something in to share with our colleagues today. But I wanted your opinion on what would be best. Thoughts?”

He wanted…what?

When all Julian did was continue to give me his pleasant smile despite my confusion, I whispered in his ear. “You hate when I bring in treats.”

Julian shook his head, his smile twisting. “I hate when I have to share your attention,” he corrected. “I think it’s adorable and generous that you like to buy treats for the office. Decide what you want to bring in today, and I’ll get it.”

My mouth opened and closed, unable to process what he was saying.

“Hurry up, love.” Julian gave me a little nudge as we moved closer to the counter. “It’s almost our turn.”

“The turnovers,” I blurted out. “I’ve always wanted to try those.”

“So you’ll have one, too? Right?” Julian asked.

“I—yes.”

“Good. I want it to be something that you like as well.”

Without another word, Julian stepped up to the counter and ordered more apple turnovers than anyone ever needed in one morning. And not only that, but he got the big ones. Not the small ones I’d been eying up, but the massive ones that no one could actually eat in one sitting. And then he ushered me up to the counter beside him and asked what I wanted to drink.

“Oh, I don’t really like coffee,” I assured him, trying to push the question aside.

“You don’t like coffee?” He stared at me. “You get coffee for everyone all the time, and you don’t even…” Sighing, he broke off and ordered me a hot chocolate.

We walked out of Georgia’s a few minutes later with our hands full of pastries and hot beverages.

“How did you know I liked hot chocolate?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“Maybe I would have preferred tea.”

He raised a brow. “Would you have?”

“No,” I mumbled, staring down at my hot chocolate nestled between my mittens. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian smile. “You shouldn’t have bought all that,” I added.

“Why not?”

“It’s too much, Julian.” I sighed, suddenly feeling guilty as I remembered Noah’s words from last night. “I know you’re saving money for Gianna’s tuition.”

“I am,” he agreed. “But you’re just as important to me, and I thought you would like it. It’s just breakfast. My finances are not something you need to worry about, Juni.”

I ignored the swirling heat in my stomach.

Important to me. He said I was important to him. Just as much as Gianna? That couldn’t be true.

“They’re just pastries. They’re not important.”

“I didn’t say the pastries were important. I said you were.” He opened the front door to our office building, letting me walk inside first. “Now, why don’t you go share them with people.”

I had to push down the urge to continue arguing with him about it. This was silly, all of it. And yet, I smiled. Because I did love this part of the day, connecting with everyone before they got too caught up with the stress of the job. And if I were honest…the food? It was an excuse. I wasn’t always the best at knowing how to start a conversation or meet new people. But “Hey, I brought doughnuts. Do you want one?” worked every time.

Sure, it was bribery. But it also made other people smile, and I liked that.

I liked making other people smile.

I liked that Julian was smiling.

We were quiet on the elevator ride up to our floor, and when a ding sounded to indicate we had reached it, I glanced over at Julian.

“This was nice of you,” I said. “Thank you.”

He nodded, a look of ease on his face. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Julian acting so relaxed. I could get used to it.

Pulling off my mittens, I shoved them in my coat pockets before stepping out of the elevator. Julian seemed to think my available hand was an invitation and grabbed it as we strode across the lobby. My mind began racing into overdrive as I overanalyzed that simple hand-grab. But there wasn’t any time to make conclusions about it because Julian started to slow his steps as we approached Tyler at his reception desk.

Tyler gave us a wary look as we neared, and I had to swallow a laugh.

“Morning,” I said cheerily, setting my hot chocolate down to open up the box from Georgia’s on the counter. “Want a turnover?”

Tyler looked from me to the box to Julian and then back to the box again. “Sure,” he said slowly. “Thanks, Juniper. They look delicious.”

“They’re actually from Julian,” I said, flashing a grin up at him. He squeezed my hand back.

“Thanks, Julian,” Tyler amended, his eyes darting between us again. Confusion was written all over his face, and honestly, I understood. I was still trying to catch up to what was going on, too.

“I’m going to find Cameron,” I said once we walked away from reception. “Ever since I introduced him to their muffins, he loves Georgia’s.”

A bit of wariness entered Julian’s gaze at the mention of Cameron, but he nodded. “Okay. You don’t need to tell him they’re from me, you know. That’s not the point.”

“I know.” I shrugged. “But I think he’ll get a kick out of it.”

Julian rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Later that day, there were two emails in my inbox that caught my attention. I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn’t seeing things because the first one was from Greg Kennedy. How he’d gotten my work email, I had no idea. But it was a congratulations on my new job, which was a little strange considering I was already a few months into working here and Greg and I didn’t have that kind of relationship.

I deleted the email and moved to the one I was more interested in—the one from Julian.

Because Julian and I had spent most of our time at Gardner working on different cases, we didn’t often exchange emails. For the most part, that lack of interaction had been a saving grace. But now things were different.

I glanced over my shoulder to find Julian typing away on something else and wondered what the hell this was.

I barely got to the end of the first sentence of the email before I pushed all my snacks away so I could fully concentrate.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Draft for HR – Please Review

Juniper,

I’ve drafted this email for human resources. Please let me know if you find it satisfactory or if you would like me to make any changes. It will remain a draft until you want me to send it. If you ever want me to send it.

Yours, Julian

With my heart in my throat, I read the rest of his email, which detailed how Julian and I shared a relationship that we wished to disclose to HR. It was short and to the point, but it made my pulse race.

I spun around in my chair to face him. “Julian…”

I struggled to find the words. His movements were slow as his gaze met mine, simmering with something that made my insides melt.

“There’s no pressure, Juniper,” he said softly. “We don’t need to send it. I just wanted you to see that I’d prepared it. That I’m so fucking serious about this.”

He misinterpreted my speechlessness as concern, but before I could correct him, Julian switched the topic, pulling out a stack of papers from beneath his briefcase.

“We also need to talk about how we want to move forward with Grayson. After the information I’ve shared with him, he’s interested in pursuing the case. And that means officially approaching Gardner Law about representing him. He wants us, specifically, to do it.”

Oh, look. Another thing I didn’t know how to respond to. Today seemed to be full of those.

“He’s a celebrity,” I said, saying the first words that came to mind. “It’ll be high-profile. They’re going to want one of the partners to represent him. Not…us.”

Meaning not two associate attorneys fresh out of law school.

“They definitely will,” Julian agreed. “But Grayson tends to get what he wants, so we should get our shit together just in case.”

A bit of panic rose in my throat as I thought of just how much shit we needed to get together if we were going to do that. “Tonight, maybe?”

Julian and I hadn’t looked at Grayson’s case in a few weeks because we’d been, well, avoiding each other.

“Sure. How about we work at my place?” he asked casually. “I’ll cook us dinner.”

“You can cook?”

“Moderately.” He chuckled. “I know what you like. I’m sure I can whip up something.”

I shook my head in disbelief before Julian once again added to the whirlwind.

“Cameron and I were going to grab a drink at the Bellflower after work, though,” he said. “If you want, I can cancel. Or I’d love it if you joined us before we head to my place.”

I twisted to face him. He was relaxed in his chair, one leg crossed over the other as he pretended that what he’d said was no big deal. But just like all the other “little” things he’d done today, it definitely wasn’t.

“I don’t want to intrude,” I said. I meant it, too. My intent had never been to burst my way into Cameron and Julian’s relationship. I was more than aware that I didn’t belong there, just like I didn’t belong between Noah and Julian. I liked Cameron and Noah a lot, but mostly, I’d wanted to annoy Julian. Maybe get his attention. Just maybe.

Either way, that was no longer necessary.

“You wouldn’t be.”

“But Cameron—”

“Already asked if you would be joining.”

“He did?”

Julian raised a brow as if to say, Are you really that surprised? But I was, I really was.

Julian didn’t say anything else. His gaze started to trail down, lingering on the bit of cleavage I’d decided to show off with this dress today. When I cleared my throat, his eyes snapped up to mine. If he was embarrassed or ashamed that he was caught, he didn’t show it.

No, he was too busy watching me hungrily. Barely concealed desire flashed behind his hazy gaze, and I tried not to let my thoughts get the best of me. I tried not to remember what he said last night or what we’d done in this office. Not right now, anyway.

“We’ll meet up with him after work,” he said, putting an end to the moment as he gave his attention back to his computer.

I put a hand to my chest, trying to suppress what was happening inside it. But it was no use.

The office was hot the rest of the afternoon, stiflingly so, and it was a relief to get outside at the end of the day. That silly little expression had returned to Julian’s face, and it stayed even as we walked into the Bellflower, grabbed drinks at the bar, and found Cameron sitting in the back.

We sat, and Julian’s hand slid onto my knee beneath the table. He squeezed it before running his fingers under the hem of my dress teasingly. His touch vanished a moment later, and my skin tingled. I tingled—everywhere.

“Well, would you look at that,” Cameron said, his cheeky grin wide. “He’s smiling.”

“He’s been doing it all day,” I laughed, trying to sound normal after what Julian just did beneath the table.

When I’d brought Cameron an apple turnover this morning and told him that Julian and I had picked them up that morning together, he hadn’t looked surprised. Well, maybe a little bit. But not nearly as much as I’d been expecting, considering how much of our arguing he’d listened to over the last few months.

Ignoring his friend, Julian sat back in his chair, his expression unwavering. I bit down on my lip while watching Julian take a sip of his cocktail. God, the relaxed confidence in every one of his movements made my insides scream. Julian had always been attractive, but this version of him was new. And I liked it.

His eyes flicked to mine, catching me staring. His lips curved even more.

“I wonder why,” Cameron muttered into his own drink, pulling me out of my Julian-daze. “A good night last night, huh?”

I’d picked that inopportune moment to take a drink of my Aperol Spritz, and I nearly choked on it.

But Julian popped the cherry from his drink into his mouth and smoothly answered, “You could say that. The part of it at Juni’s place, at least.”

Cameron’s eyes widened, and I smacked Julian in the chest for putting ideas in his friend’s head.

“Not like that,” I hurriedly added. “Not yet.”

When Cameron’s brows raised, I nearly bit my tongue off. Shit.

“Not yet?” Cameron repeated with a tilt to his lips. His reaction made it more than clear that he was enjoying this conversation a little too much. When I refused to open my mouth again, his attention shifted to Julian. And, of course, I took that as an opportunity to also look at Julian. I’d take any opportunity I could.

Julian smirked lazily back at Cameron as his tongue toyed with a cherry stem in the corner of his mouth. His eyes slid to me.

“Not yet.”

Going to Julian’s apartment with alcohol—even just one drink’s worth of alcohol—coursing through my veins was likely a bad idea. But I was having a hard time tearing myself away from today. And we really should look at Grayson’s case.

With one step through the door, I realized Julian had decorated since the last time I stood here. A few family portraits were on the wall and bits of simplistic art and nice cozy touches. A candle, a blanket, a few throw pillows. Nothing over-the-top and all very monotone as far as a color scheme, but it actually looked like an adult lived here.

Julian’s eyes raked over me as I stood awkwardly in the entryway to his apartment. He took my coat from me without saying a word, hanging it up before stealing one more look and breaking the silence.

“I’ll go find something more comfortable for you.”

“Comfortable?” I called after him.

“Your clothes,” came his muffled reply.

I didn’t bother telling him that dresses were by far the most comfortable article of clothing that I owned.

Julian returned a moment later. I expected him to return with some of Gemma’s clothes—like he did the night we went to the New England game. But the clothes he tossed at me when coming back into the room were distinctly Julian.

After sneaking into the bathroom to change out of my dress, I returned to the living room wearing sweatpants and one of his old high school football sweatshirts.

Julian did a double take.

“Damn,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw as he took me in. “Looks good on you. I always knew it would.”

“I can’t believe you hung on to this sweatshirt,” I said with a light laugh.

“You think I would have ditched it before getting to see you in it?” Julian shook his head. “Nah.”

Laughing with unbidden glee, I did a little twirl for him in the middle of his apartment, showing off my new look.

“I could really get used to you doing that for me,” he said, his voice lowering into something that felt intimate, that brushed against my skin. “You did it that night in the hotel, too. One of my favorite fucking moments.”

“I still have your shirt,” I admitted, ignoring how my racing heart kept trying to force its way into my throat. “From the wedding. When you let me sleep in it.”

“Keep it,” he insisted. “I like to imagine you wear it sometimes.”

Refusing to admit that I’d definitely worn it to bed again since the wedding, I bit down on my grin.

“Do I get to keep these, too?” I asked teasingly, gesturing at my outfit.

“If you want,” Julian answered, even though I wasn’t at all serious. “You look damn good in my clothes.”

I let the moment linger, sweet and perfect, before I cleared my throat.

“We should get to work.”

He nodded, although I thought I saw a flash of disappointment. “Why don’t you pull up our notes while I start dinner. Do you want a drink? Glass of wine?”

“Maybe just one,” I agreed. “I already had that drink at the bar.”

“Look who’s suddenly being reasonable about their alcohol intake,” Julian said with a chuckle.

I tried to tame the flash of embarrassment as memories of the wedding tried to take over. “Well, I still have to make it home.”

Julian shrugged, walking into the open-concept kitchen to grab a wineglass from a bar cart in the corner. “Or you could stay.”

“Stay?”

“Stay.” His eyes rose slowly. The glasses clinked on the granite countertops as he set them down. His voice dropped again. “I want to be around you constantly, Juniper. You can have the bed to yourself, I don’t care. Just…stay.”

It was hard to say no to that.

It was hard to say no when he was showing me that he wanted me.

Morning.

Noon.

And night.