If This Was a Movie (Evergreen Park #2)

Chapter 37 – Jules

THIRTY-SEVEN

JULES

We drive home and put Sophie in bed in near silence, both of us lost in our heads.

After Claire got settled, I watched the Donovans do what I’m learning they do best: handle a crisis. Tom grabbed her bags and brought them into the house while Sutton, Sloane, and Nate gently and kindly ushered out the remaining guests at the party.

I stood with Sophie, trying to keep her both entertained and distracted while staying out of the way. When everyone was gone, Claire and the rest of the Donovans sat in the living room to hear her story. I tried to sneak out and clean up while they handled family business, but Shauna gave me a very stern motherly look and told me, “You’re a Donovan now, Jules, like it or not. Sit down.”

Then, Claire began her tale of arriving in California and it being a mess from the start. Her boyfriend, Paul, wasn’t there to get her from the airport, spent nights out late, never telling her where to go, and even when she told him she was lonely and she knew no one there, he simply shrugged off her concerns. With each word, I watched Nate’s jaw get tighter and tighter, hearing about how his baby sister was mistreated.

Finally, Claire gave Paul an ultimatum: either she gets treated better or she leaves. Unfortunately, it seems he chose door number two, leading her to come back home to Evergreen Park where she promptly broke down about seemingly losing everything.

Now we’re on the couch, a movie playing, but I’m barely paying attention. I’ve made my decision, and even though I know Nate is going to argue with me, I need him on board.

“Claire will need the cottage,” I finally say.

“What?” Nate asks, confused as he looks over at me.

“Claire needs the cottage. I’m going to move back home tomorrow.”

“No, you’re not,” he says. “The city won’t let you.”

I give him a look.

“Hank from approvals talked to me at the party. According to him, my place was approved last week. I can move back into First Position at any time.”

Nate’s jaw goes tight, and even though he has both arms wrapped around me, he tightens them as he groans to the ceiling.

“Fucking Hank and his big fucking mouth,” he grumbles, and I laugh.

“When were you going to tell me?” I ask.

“Never.” I glare at him, and he rolls his eyes. “After Christmas,” he says begrudgingly.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was done?” I ask, my fingers moving to push his hair back.

“Technically, it wasn’t. It still needed paint.” I remember him coming home two days ago with paint dried on his hands and instinctively knowing he finished my place then but didn’t tell me to keep me close for as long as he could manage.

“You know what I mean. It was safe to live in a week ago. Or longer.”

He sighs deeply before taking a long moment to answer. “Because I knew the second you knew, you’d be moving out.”

“Well, yeah…” I say, because he’s stating the obvious.

“And at that point, you were still in your denial zone. So moving out of the cottage would mean moving out of our lives.”

I bite my lip, knowing he’s not wrong, feeling a bit guilty over it. “But I’m not there anymore,” I say softly. “And I can’t live behind your house forever, Nate.”

He groans, looking at the ceiling. “Is it a crime to like having you close?”

I give him a soft, sweet smile, putting a hand on his cheek.

“No, Nate. It’s not a crime. I get it. I love being close to you guys.” He reaches over, grabbing my hand and squeezing before I speak again. “But it’s time for me to move back home.”

“No, it's not,” Nate says, but he sounds more like a grumpy kid. It reminds me that once I get through to Nate, I’m going to have to get through to Sophie, who is going to be even more of a force to reckon with. I decided it might be better to play a little dirty, shifting until I’m straddling him. His hands instantly go to my ass, and I smile.

He has to know I can’t live in the tiny cottage forever. I have all of my things at my place, it’s close to my work, and I love the little home I built for myself.

“Nate, your sister needs a place to stay—” I say, trying to bring logic into the conversation.

“She can stay with our parents!”

“Nate,” I say, giving him a chiding look. “She’s going through a lot. She needs something familiar. And I need to go to my place. Lessons start up soon, and I’ll have to be there for those.”

He glares. “But I want you here.”

“And I will be here, Nate. Just not…all the time.”

He looks at me, weighing his options and clearly understanding that they are slim. Then his face shifts, like he’s made a decision, something I’m suddenly nervous about.

“Sleepovers.”

“What?”

“We get sleepovers. Four nights a week.”

I scoff out a laugh. “Nate, four nights a week is over half the week!”

“And?”

I let out a sigh and roll my eyes. “How about we start at two?” It sounds reasonable to me, but I should know Nate is anything but reasonable.

“Three. And when you’re here, you sleep in my bed.”

“Nate—”

“I wasn’t going to push it, you sleeping in my bed because you’re close, which means you can stay late and come over early. But if you insist on spending four nights a week across town?—”

“Five,” I say with a laugh.

He ignores me, continuing. “If you insist on staying four nights a week away from me, I get you in my bed. I get to hold you.”

The idea of that is utter bliss—Nate holding me all night or waking up wrapped around him. But there’s other things to keep in mind.

“But Sophie—” I start.

“Sophie isn’t going to notice, Jules. Right now, you’re here before she wakes up, and you’re here until she goes to bed. Where will it be different?”

I scrunch my nose because he’s not wrong. That’s been my argument with staying at the cottage and insisting I go back to my bed each night. But he’s right: If I’m here when she wakes and I’m here when she goes to sleep, where is the difference?”

“Two nights,” I whisper, placing my forehead on his and smiling.

“Three, and we work up to four.”

As much as I love this new and improved version of us , common sense tells me we should move slow. I should give Nate and Sophie time to be themselves without my hovering everywhere. I should give Nate room to really think about when and how he wants to incorporate me in this little family. Right now we’re in the honeymoon phase, and even though I’m secure in this relationship of ours, I’m worried about moving too fast and Nate having some kind of regret.

“Two,” I whisper, my lips now grazing his. “And you have to break the news to Sophie.” I’m testing my luck, I know, but it’s worth a shot. I shift my hips a bit, hoping I can use anything at my disposal to sway him.

“Oh, hell no,” he says with a laugh, pushing me back so there’s a gap between us now. “I know what you’re doing with your womanly wiles. You’re not going to trick me.”

I give him a very fake gasp, putting a hand to my chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t play cute with me,” he says, then grabs my chin, resting his lips on mine before pulling back. “Three nights a week.” Then he flips us until I’m on my back on the couch, Nate hovering over me. He looks so fucking handsome like this, happy and smiling, broad shoulders holding him up. “That’s my final offer.”

My hand reaches up, grazing over his cheek, and I can’t believe we’re here, a year later, joking about making deals on how many nights he can convince me to stay here.

It’s real, true Christmas magic.

“Deal,” I whisper, and then lean up to press my lips to his, taking my prize.