Novels by J.O

Six months later...The wind in North Dakota had a bite to it, but the sky stretched wide and endless, like a soft blue promise.The air smelled fresh, a little wild—like new beginnings.I stood by the window of our small off-campus apartment, cradling a chipped mug of hot cocoa between my hands.The windows fogged slightly from the warmth, and outside, the trees shivered, shaking loose the last stubborn golden leaves.Behind me, I heard Noah moving around—the heavy thud of books hitting the floor, the low, sleepy curses as he dug through his bag.It made me smile.“Your Psych book’s on the table,” I called out without turning.There was a beat of silence. Then the familiar sound of his bare feet padding closer.The next thing I knew, his arms were sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him.“You’re magic, you know that?” he murmured into the curve of my neck, his voice low and rough from sleep.I laughed softly, leaning into him, feeling the solid weight of his chest agains

Cameron’s presence hit me like a slap.For one terrible second, I couldn’t breathe.The blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything else.Then I was on my feet before I even knew it, my chair screeching loudly across the marble floor.“What the hell, Mom?!” I shouted, my voice sharp and broken at the same time.The room went deathly still.Noah reached for me quickly, his hand brushing my wrist, his voice low and urgent.“Elena... don’t. Calm down.”But I couldn’t.I shook him off hard, blinking against the hot sting behind my eyes. My chest heaved as I looked at my mother.She just sat there, unbothered, like the commotion in front of her was nothing more than a breeze.I pointed a trembling finger at her, my anger spilling out faster than I could control.“You planned this,” I hissed, my voice breaking. “You had an agenda when you invited us. You set us up.”A sick, bitter laugh threatened to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it back.My mother didn’t flinch.Didn’t blink.Di

I paced the room while Noah tried on the last suit. My feet moved without meaning, a slow circle around the scattered ties and open boxes.He stood near the mirror, tugging gently at the dark jacket, adjusting the collar like it was choking him.He looked… perfect.Sharp suit. Fresh haircut. Clean lines. My heart ached just looking at him.But his eyes—those told a different story.Nervous. Stiff. Scared.“You okay?” I asked gently.He gave a short nod, jaw tight.I stepped closer, folding my arms. “It’s just dinner.”He looked at me in the mirror. “It’s dinner with your mother.”His voice was flat, but not cold. Just tired. Like he was already carrying too much and this was one more weight on his back.I didn’t blame him.“She’s not going to bite,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it. Then I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back.“She doesn’t

Noah froze the moment the words left my mouth.“My mother wants to meet you.” I said again.His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide like I’d just told him I was pregnant with triplets or something. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stood there, blinking like someone had knocked the air out of him.I couldn’t help it—I nearly laughed. The look on his face was priceless.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said, smiling gently.He blinked again, his brows pulling tight. “I just… why now?”His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t even talking to me, more like he was trying to solve a puzzle out loud.I could see it—the way his mind was spinning, trying to make sense of it. His fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to run them through his hair. His lips moved like he was still calculating something he couldn’t quite figure out.I stepped closer, my bare feet soft against the floor, and cupped his face in my hands. His skin was warm. Familiar. Mine.“It’s just dinner,” I whispered.The

I woke up to the chill of an empty bed.Noah was gone.The pillow beside me was cold, like he’d been up for hours.My chest felt heavy. A slow ache started to bloom there, right behind my ribs. I stretched beneath the blanket, trying to shake it off. But it didn’t help. I knew exactly why I felt like this.I had to tell him.About my mother. About the invitation to dinner. The one that had been sitting in my phone like a bomb I was too afraid to open.But I didn’t know how to say it. It felt… wrong. Strange. Like pulling him into a world he’d finally escaped. And yet, it mattered. Maybe not to him, but to me. Because things were starting to feel real between us, and if we were going to survive this—us—then I had to be honest.I sighed and pushed the covers off me. The floor was cold beneath my feet, the silence in the room louder than it should’ve been.I pulled on one of Noah’s sweatshirts hanging on the chair. It still smelled like him—woodsy and clean, like pine after rain.I padde

I woke before the sun.The sky outside was still dark, painted in shades of grey and blue. The kind of quiet only early morning knew.Elena was curled up beside me, her hand resting lightly on my chest, her breath warm against my shoulder. Her face was soft in sleep. Peaceful. Safe.For a moment, I didn’t move. Just watched her. I let myself feel the weight of her trust—how far we’d come, how close I’d almost lost her.But something inside me twisted. A heavy knot I couldn’t shake.Like I’d left something undone. Something important.I needed to close that door before I could fully stand in the one she had opened for me.I moved slowly, careful not to wake her. I slid out from beneath the blanket, freshened up, and got ready to leave.On a piece of scrap paper, I scribbled:Be back soon. Needed to close a door.I folded it and left it by her phone.I stood there for a moment, staring down at her sleeping form. My heart tugged, wanting to stay. Wanting to forget the past and just live

From the very beginning, I knew I wanted Sam and Mason’s story to be more than just a love story. I wanted fire and tenderness. I wanted you to feel the ache of longing and the softness of forever, all in one breath.This book was my first attempt at blending intense passion with deep emotional connection. A love that burned yet healed. A story where the smut wasn’t just for spice, but for depth, for the kind of intimacy that tells you two people aren’t just in love… they belong to each other.💍 Thank you for riding with them to the very end.This book is now COMPLETED. But their love? That will always live on.With all my heart, Thank you.O.J🖤

SAMANTHATWO AND HALF YEARS LATERAzalea was crying again.Not loud, just that soft, broken little whimper that tugged something primal in my chest.The kind of sound that made me blink twice, sit up too fast, and whisper, “Shh, mama’s here, sweetheart,” even though I’d barely had three hours of sleep.Technically, I was already awake.I hadn’t really slept. Just laid there listening to her little tosses and sleepy sighs, wrapped in my favorite robe, the one Mason bought me when I was six months pregnant and miserable and swollen and convinced I was going to explode.He’d held it up in the store like it was some sacred relic. “It’s like hugging a cloud,” he said. “And you’re not allowed to exist without comfort, baby.”He was right. It was cloud-soft. Still smelled faintly like lavender detergent and something else, something warmer, deeper. Like home.I padded across the nursery barefoot, lifting Azalea from her crib and holding her to my chest.She settled almost instantly, just like

Before I upload the last chapter, I just want to say this... From the deepest, rawest, most emotional part of me… Thank you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for staying. Thank you for choosing this story. When I started writing this book, I honestly didn’t expect much. It wasn’t your typical fairytale. There were no perfect meet-cutes. No flowers-in-the-rain, cliché movie moments. Just two broken people, meeting in the middle of chaos. And still… You read. You stayed. You felt the pain, the love, the obsession, the healing, and you didn’t look away. I cried to my friend just yesterday. Because I didn’t think anyone would care this deeply. But you all proved me wrong. You showed up. You supported. You reviewed, commented, shared. You made me feel seen as a writer. As a person. You gave this messy, emotional, imperfect love story a place in your hearts. I wish I didn’t have to stop here. I wish the story could go on forever. But every book has its ending. And thi

SAMANTHAI couldn’t move.I was frozen, utterly, completely frozen, staring at Mason down on one knee like I was dreaming or hallucinating or maybe just not breathing.The entire room glowed with soft golden light. Candles flickered gently on every table. Roses curled across the floor like someone had sprinkled a fairytale.And there he was, my Mason. My impossibly beautiful Mason. In a black suit, hair slightly tousled like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times. Eyes locked on mine. Holding a velvet ring box like he was offering me the whole damn universe.My whole world blurred at the edges, like the air around me had shifted, slowed, become something too fragile to touch.Was this real?Were we really here?After everything we’d been through? All the highs, the wreckage, the heartbreak, the impossible love that refused to go away?“My God…” I whispered, my hand flying to my mouth. “What? Mason?”My knees wobbled beneath me. My throat closed up. I reached blindly for Macey’s

MASONI slammed the door to my hotel room shut with more force than necessary and immediately yanked off my tie like it had been choking me for the past twelve hours. It probably had.The suit jacket hit the arm of the couch. I didn’t care where it landed.I collapsed onto the cushions, body aching, brain fried, but somehow still wired like I’d downed five shots of espresso and taken a lap around Manhattan.Two days in New York. Nonstop meetings. Fake smiles. Endless nodding. And then… this.I looked down at the thick envelope in my hand. Inside it was the deed to the house I just bought.A modern beauty in Rye, tucked between trees and silence. Close enough to the city, far enough from the noise. The kind of place where the grass stays green and the neighbors’ wave and babies learn to walk on hardwood floors and sunlight spills through every window.A home.Our home.My assistant had offered to handle the furnishing… said she had a guy who could do the whole thing in a week. Clean, qu

SAMANTHAI slid my phone out of my coat pocket and refreshed our chat for the third time in five minutes.Still nothing.No new texts. No “miss you” voice note. No snarky reel about something stupid that reminded him of me.Just silence.I hated that I was like this, wired into him like an addict. It wasn’t healthy. I knew that. But knowing something doesn’t stop it from being real. I missed him with this sharp, stupid urgency that curled inside my ribs and refused to let go.Mason and I talked all the time. Every day. Practically every hour. It had become our rhythm. Good morning texts. Midday check-ins. “What are you eating?” “Do you miss me yet?” “Send me a photo.” We never ran out of reasons to stay connected.But today… it had been quiet.Too quiet.And I wasn’t handling it well.I tucked the phone back into my pocket with a sigh, trying to focus on where I was—walking across campus, boots clicking on the pavement, my bag slung heavy on my shoulder after a long meeting with my lec

To you — yes, you — sitting here, reading this final page… thank you. From the very first word to this last moment, you’ve been on this journey with me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that means. You’ve laughed with me, cried with me, held your breath during the heartbreaks, and smiled through the soft, quiet moments. You let these characters... their flaws, their pain, their love, take up space in your heart. That’s not something I’ll ever take for granted. I won’t lie to you, there were so many moments I wanted to give up. There were days when the views didn’t come in, when it felt like nobody was reading, when I questioned everything. I wondered if my words mattered, if this story was worth finishing… if I was good enough. And yet, something kept me here. You kept me here. Every comment. Every read. Every quiet moment you spent curled up with these chapters. Even if you never said a word, even if you simply showed up — you gave my story life. You gave me hope. Thi

JESSICAI woke to the faint, steady beeping of a monitor and the distant hum of voices somewhere outside the room. Everything smelled faintly sterile, clean and sharp—and for a second, I couldn’t remember where I was. My throat felt dry, my body heavy, and my mind foggy… until I turned my head and saw him.Liam.He was slumped forward in a chair beside my bed, his head resting on the mattress, his hand locked tightly with mine like letting go wasn’t an option. His dark hair was a mess, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and he looked… exhausted. But even in sleep, his grip was strong. Unyielding. Like he was holding me to this world.My chest tightened, a rush of tenderness spilling through me. God, I loved him. More than I’d ever had words for.I shifted my fingers slightly, brushing them through his hair, and whispered softly, almost afraid to break the moment.“Hi, baby…”His head jerked up instantly, like my voice had pulled him out of whatever restless dream he’d been in. The second

JESSICAI was huge. Not just pregnant. Not glowing. Not “blooming,” like everyone kept saying. Just… huge.And yet, somehow, I’d never been happier.For the first time in months, I’d finally forced myself to slow down. No work emails. No deadlines. No guilt. Just me, my swollen ankles, my out-of-control hormones, and the little miracle kicking relentlessly inside me. I was days—maybe even hours—away from meeting our baby, and the thought both terrified and thrilled me.Married life with Liam had been nothing short of sweet chaos. Messy, unpredictable, perfectly imperfect chaos. If I had to do it all over again; every fight, every tear, every late-night panic attack where we weren’t sure we’d make it—I’d do it in a heartbeat.Because it led me here.To him.To us.Yes, we started off rocky. There were nights we barely spoke, mornings where the silence was heavier than words, and moments where walking away almost felt easier than staying. But somewhere in the middle of the heartbreak

JESSICALiam lifted me again, carrying my dripping body back to the bed like I weighed nothing. My skin was still damp from the bath, tiny goosebumps blooming everywhere, but his body — his arms, his chest, his breath was warm.He laid me down gently, his gaze locked on me like I was the only thing in the world he saw. That stare of his — dark, steady, possessive — made my pulse pound so hard I could feel it between my legs.When the towel slid over my collarbone, his lips followed. One soft kiss. Then another. Then a slow drag of his mouth over the curve of my shoulder, heat trailing everywhere he touched.“Liam…” I whispered, my voice shaky, catching halfway through.“Mm?” he hummed against my skin, his breath hot there, the vibration sinking straight into me.“You’re…” I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. “You’re doing too much.”He stilled briefly, lifting his head, one brow raised, smirk tugging at his lips. “Too much?” His gaze drifted down me slowly, deliberately, like

JESSICAThe sand was cool beneath my bare feet as I spun lazily by the bonfire, the hem of my dress brushing my calves. The air smelled like salt and champagne, music thumping low from the speakers, people laughing and shouting around me. My cheeks were flushed, my skin buzzing, and for the first time all day, I felt… untouchable. Weightless.I tilted my head back, letting the soft wind tangle my hair, when I felt it — that familiar burn against my skin.I didn’t have to look. I already knew.Liam.I found him leaning against a wooden pole near the tiki bar, arms crossed, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease. He wasn’t laughing, wasn’t drinking, wasn’t joining in. He was watching me.And God, the way he watched me — like the chaos around us had blurred into silence, like the world had narrowed to just me and him. That gaze of his stripped me bare in a way words never could.Our eyes locked and held. The heat between us stretched, silent and heavy, until my chest felt too tight t

LIAM My hands were clenched so tight around the edge of the altar that they’d gone numb, but I couldn’t make myself loosen my grip. It was the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing stopping me from falling apart. I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think of anything except the one thought that had been clawing at the back of my mind for the last hour: What if she doesn’t come? I’d told myself I wasn’t going to think like that. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t spiral. But standing here, with the weight of every single pair of eyes behind me and the sound of the ocean crashing softly in the background, panic kept curling around my throat like a vice. I forced myself to breathe — deep, steady, even breaths — but my chest felt like it was caving in on itself. The air was warm, thick with salt and sunlight, clinging to my skin. And still… I was cold. A hollow, creeping kind of cold that settled deep in my stomach. My heart was hammering, a wild, uneven rhythm, slamming