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Plain and simple, there was no looking at Julian without wanting him. But I forced myself to just pause and take this time to gaze at my current reality.

A little over a month ago, I spent between six and seven days a week in a windowless part of my office at June Magazine. I worked unpaid overtime every day in order to complete my superiors’ assignments, I went through my ritual of sex with Vanilla Jeff in his cluttered office, and my idea of vacation was thirty minutes at a coffee shop with Lia.

Now I was in Biarritz, France, in the most beautiful hotel room I’d ever seen overlooking the stunning Basque coast. To top it all off, I had Julian Hoult winding down with me after a long day out. Just watching him get ready to sleep was fascinating. Just sleeping in bed with him was fascinating. Seemingly everything about that man made me feel better, happier, more hopeful, and while I had been doing a great job of it up to yesterday, as I watched Julian now, I couldn’t deny it.

I was falling.

Hard.

I didn’t feel anything close to secure about it, but it was happening, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop it anymore.

“Hey,” I smiled as he got in the shower with me. I laughed as he gave a crooked grin and leaned his tired body into me for several seconds. I giggled, closing my eyes as he kissed my neck. “You’re almost there,” I murmured. Tomorrow was our last day before going home. Somehow, it felt like forever ago that we were in New York.

“Thank you, by the way,” Julian said when he pulled back. My eyes followed my hands as they ran over his solid pecs then slowly down the ridges of his abs.

“For what?” I asked softly.

“Making this trip easier for me.”

“I hardly did anything with the Roths this trip.”

“I don’t mean in regards to the sale,” he said, taking the little round of soap and running its smooth surface along my side. “I mean just… being here. In Biarritz. It’s not usually an easy trip for me.”

I blinked, water trickling down my hair and into my face. How had I not even considered that? This resort I was having the time of my life in had begun as a home – the one he’d built to bring back Lucie.

Of course it hurt to be here.

“I didn’t even think about how hard it was for you to come back here,” I murmured, frowning at myself.

“It usually is, but it wasn’t this time. I barely recognize this place when I’m here with you. It just feels like another beautiful French city when I get to see it through your eyes,” Julian said earnestly, oblivious to how incredibly sweet I found his words. He looked up at me and grinned. “That said I hope you didn’t enjoy your time here too much, because I have no intention of ever coming back once we’re gone.”

“I can always come here alone,” I teased.

“It would be a waste to let you go somewhere alone,” Julian said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re so beautiful when you see something for the first time,” he answered straightaway. “I wouldn’t want to miss all those faces you make.”

I grinned wide. “Are you trying to make my cheeks hurt?”

“I’m not. But I’ve become pretty dependent on seeing that smile, so whatever makes you happy, I’ll keep doing it,” he laughed, letting water trickle over his head as he leaned in to kiss me.

At night, I drifted off to sleep while Julian sat next to me in bed, looking over some notes. He asked if I wanted him to move into the sitting room so I could turn the lights off to sleep, but I said no. I felt way too much at peace lying there with him reading next to me. I loved every second of it, even in my sleep.

I didn’t even mind that I woke up around two in the morning to find him still up, and still reading, though his material had changed since I was last awake.

“What’s that?” I asked, my voice cracking from the grogginess. Julian looked down at me and frowned.

“Hey. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t. I just stir here and there,” I murmured, eyeing the pressed flower stationery in his hand. “Is that from Lucie?” I whispered sleepily. My lips curved in a smile when Julian took my hand and nodded for me to crawl up against him. Only when I had my head resting on his chest did he softy answer.

“It’s the last letter she sent where she wrote that she missed me, and she still didn’t understand why she couldn’t see me.”

“How long ago is it from?”

“About two-and-a-half years ago. She had just turned six. She’s thanking me for the birthday presents in this,” Julian said, running his thumb over the paper.

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