Chapter 33: That's Not Fair

Kai closed the office door behind her and froze. James was already sitting there, arms crossed, the storm in his eyes impossible to ignore. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but the command in the room was unmistakable.

“I told you to be in here ten minutes ago,” he said evenly, though the steel in his voice sliced through the air.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

“Don’t bother,” he added, standing slowly. “I watched you carry crate after crate down to the parking lot fridge. You promised me you’d take it easy. First day back, and you’ve already broken that.”

Kai leaned back against the door, arms folded in what she hoped looked like defiance. “The café doesn’t run itself.”

He stepped toward her. “No, but the café will keep running—with or without you killing yourself over it.”

The tension snapped taut between them. She knew that tone. Her brat instincts immediately wanted to push back harder, but her body? Her body remembered exactly what that voice meant.

“And don’t give me that look,” he continued. “You knew I’d be watching. You’re mine, Kai. You don’t get to promise me rest and then treat your health like an afterthought. Not when I’ve spent the last four weeks making sure you could get back on your feet.”

“You don’t own me,” she whispered, not nearly as firm as she wanted to sound.

His smirk was slow, dark, and dangerous. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know better.”

She hated the thrill that rolled down her spine.

Then—his voice softened, unexpected in its warmth, but no less intense. “Let’s try something else. If you had a magic wand… and could make anything happen for this café, for D.A.R.E., for your vision of all of this—what would you wish for?”

Thrown by the sudden shift, she blinked. “I—what?”

He stepped around the desk, leaning back against it, watching her. “You’ve got two massive dreams running in parallel. This business. And making a real difference with those kids. What do you need to make it work? If the universe bent to your will for once—what would it give you?”

Kai swallowed. The sincerity in his question burned deeper than the scolding. Her bratty fire flickered lower, replaced by something more vulnerable, more honest.

She walked around her desk and sank into the office chair, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’d want… a full compliance team that gets us. Not just ticking boxes. People like Susan, who understand we’re not just mass-producing cookies, but building something personal, ethical. A regional manager, maybe two, to take the pressure off the café managers.”

James nodded slowly, listening. “And for the youth?”

Her voice dipped. “I want trauma-informed trainers. Counsellors who actually care. Programs that don’t just punish but protect. And more funding—hell, I want laws changed.”

He let her spill. Every word. Then, when she trailed off, he spoke again, low and serious.

“I’m not just asking for business reasons, Kai. I want to know how to help you. And I will help you… but I won’t stand by while you ignore your limits. If you keep pushing like today, I will take you over that desk and give you the punishment you’re practically begging for.”

Her cheeks burned. She looked away—only for a moment.

“That’s not fair,” she murmured.

“It’s not supposed to be fair,” he replied. “It’s supposed to be real.”

She shivered. He didn’t move. Just watched. Waited.

Finally, she exhaled. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll stay in the office,” she muttered. “Do paperwork. Not lift anything heavier than a pen.”

“And?”

She rolled her eyes. “And I’ll take a real break before close.”

“Good girl.”

The words shouldn’t have lit her up the way they did—but God, they did.

James stayed with her the rest of the day, making himself perfectly at home in her office—half guard dog, half smug overlord. Every time Kai reached for something she had no business lifting, he cleared his throat. Loudly. And then gave her a look so pointed, it could’ve pinned her to the floor.

“You know, I’m not actually made of glass,” she muttered at one point, trying to reach the top shelf where she swore her last pack of invoices had disappeared.

“No, but you’re acting like you’re made of steel. And you’re not that either. Sit down.”

She grumbled. She rolled her eyes releasing a huff as she sat back down in her chair.

James looked like he was enjoying himself way too much.

By late afternoon, she was properly sulking. He’d kept her in check without lifting a finger, using only his voice, his stare, and the slow, deliberate way he watched her. She wanted to hate it. She didn’t.

He took her out for dinner just to make sure she actually ate—choosing the restaurant, ordering for her, and catching her fork when she tried to snatch it back to reclaim control.

“You know I can do things by myself, right?” she said, glaring over a mouthful of pasta.

“Oh, I know,” James replied casually. “I’m just deciding how much sass earns a spanking and how much earns something more creative.”

Her whole body flushed, and he didn’t stop looking at her while he sipped his wine.

Later that night, after dinner and another round of Kai insisting she was “fine,” James followed her into her room with a look that said he wasn’t buying it.

“You’re walking like a ninety-year-old war veteran,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

“It’s nothing,” she lied, already limping toward her dresser. “I just overdid it a bit.”

“I told you—” he stepped behind her, lowering his voice, “—you were supposed to take it easy.”

“I am taking it easy,” she said through clenched teeth, hunching her shoulders to stretch them.

“Mm.” He ignored that and reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders, thumbs digging in expertly. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need—” Her words cut off in a gasp as his fingers worked their way into the tight muscle at the base of her neck.

James didn’t wait for permission. He knew her well enough to know when need outpaced pride.

Kai sagged forward slightly, her knees threatening to buckle as her entire body registered the bliss of finally—finally—letting someone else take care of her. The way his thumbs circled, firm and slow, grounding her inch by inch, broke something open.

He leaned in close to her ear. “Get on the bed. Shirt off. Now.”

She obeyed, not because he asked—but because her body was screaming for more of that relief. She peeled off her top, unhooked her bra, and climbed onto the bed, laying flat on her stomach.

James rolled up his sleeves, moving over her like a shadow of purpose. The massage started with her shoulders, then flowed down her spine in slow, reverent strokes. He didn’t rush. He worshipped—each muscle, each inch of skin a testament to how hard she worked, how much she carried, how stubbornly she refused to let anyone help her.

When she was boneless beneath him, fully melted into the mattress, he let his hands drift lower—skimming along her ribs, the curve of her waist, then guiding her gently onto her back.

She looked up at him, hazy, disarmed. James knelt beside her, dark eyes drinking her in.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, brushing his thumbs along her sternum.

He dipped his head down, taking her nipple into his mouth, slow and deep. His tongue circled, teasing and reverent, while one hand anchored her hip and the other traced gentle patterns across her stomach.

Kai moaned, arching into him.

And then—

The door burst open.

“Hey, Kai, did you want—OH MY GOD.”

Sara’s voice cracked halfway between a scream and a laugh. James’s head snapped up, mouth still very much attached to Kai’s breast. They both froze.

Sara’s eyes went wide. “I—wow. Okay. Yeah. I’m leaving now. Carry on. Or, like—don’t. Or—shit.”

She slammed the door shut.

Silence.

Kai slapped a hand over her face. “I am going to die.”

James chuckled low in his chest, kissing her collarbone. “You’re definitely not.”

“She just—you were—”

He hummed, lips moving lazily across her skin. “She should’ve knocked.”

Kai groaned.

James looked up with a lazy grin and a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Just means next time, we lock the door.”