I turn her television on, the volume low, and put on a random Christmas movie before snooping in her fridge. She doesn’t have much. Some eggs… toast, butter…
There’s a noise from the bedroom as I get the coffee going. I hear Juniper moving, hear her curse and groan. And as she appears through the open door, I smile.
She’s positively disheveled, and it’s glorious.
Her sweater is hanging off her shoulder, underwear riding up her ass. Some of her hair is matted to the side of her head, and her makeup…fucking hell. Her smeared mascara is stunning.
“Good morning, darling,” I say.
Juniper stops dead in her tracks, body jumping as if she didn’t expect me to be here. She quickly brushes her hair off of her face and peers my way, brows narrowed.
“Jax? What—Oh my god, is that the sun?” she asks upon looking outside.
I chuckle. “I did saygood morning.”
“Oh… Holy shit. What… It’s past sunrise. I missed my walk?—”
“Walk?” I ask like I don’t already know.
“Where’s Pack?” she asks, suddenly panicking. “Pack?! Oh my god, did I leave her at?—”
“Juniper, take a breath,” I say, dropping everything to go to her.
“Shit, did I pass out? What happened? Why?—”
I pull her toward me and kiss her softly, ceasing her rambling. She exhales into me, her fingers stretching up my chest like the kiss was exactly what she needed to pause. As we part, she stares up at me with sleepy eyes, and I brace my hand against her cheek.
“Nick has Pack. He’s taking her on a walk. We brought you both home after you passed out at the bar last night. Fed Pack. Cuddled her. Fed your very fluffy cat. Nick made sure she gotlots of cuddles, too—I’m not sure what it is with him and cats, but theylovehim.”
Juniper squints. “And the bar?”
“Locked up. Everything is back the way it should look. No cum stains,” I reply.
“You… You two fed Pack? You cleaned up after us and brought me home?”
I lift a brow, skeptical of how impressed she seems to be. “Your standards are in the trash, love. You’re not a raccoon.”
She closes her eyes and laughs softly, head shaking. “God, Nick told me something similar a couple of days ago.” She runs her hands through her hair and tugs at the roots. “Sorry, I guess I’m just not used to it. How did you find the key?”
“Plant pots are a little obvious,” I tell her.
Oreo jumps onto the back of the couch and purrs as she rubs her head under Juniper’s hand. Juniper reaches over and lets the feline stretch on her chest, her eyes still in a daze like she’s trying to remember what happened.
I pinch her ass, causing her to yelp, and start to go back over to the stove so I can begin breakfast. However, the next thing I feel is her hand on mine. She draws me back in her direction, slips her palms onto my cheeks, and kisses me. It’s a slow, surprising kiss that makes me forget what I was doing. I pivot into her and take her by the waist, by her neck.
When we part, I hold her there to search her face for any answer.
“Thank you,” she finally whispers.
I shake my head at her. “You don’t have to?—.”
“I don’t care. Thank you.”
My thumb stretches across her cheekbone, and I kiss her again.
“Get used to it,” I say.
A soft smile graces her lips, and I can’t help when my own rises in return. “Come on. You can be the first to try my horrendous cooking.”
