Page 132 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Joking,” I say, opening the door for her.

We’re quiet on the way down, listening to some progressive rock station on satellite radio. My mind is running a million miles per hour as I take the switchbacks. When we’re close to the bottom, my phone starts dinging with notifications. I reach for it and silence it.

My phone keeps ringing, and I stop at the turnoff at the bottom of the road.

“Answer it,” she says. “They keep calling over and over.”

I put it in park and answer on speaker.

“Where are you?” David, the chair of my board, asks before I can say hello. He spent eleven years standing up for me in rooms when nobody else bothered.

“Good morning, David and everyone else listening.”

Somebody else clears their throat, so there are at least a few of them in the room at seven in the morning, New York time.

“This is out of hand, Jamie.”

“What is? Me being friends with someone?” I glance at Blaire, who sits back, wearing a devilish grin, as I lie.

“You’re not just friends,” Bart says.

“Excuse me. We are just friends. The pictures prove there was a slip of judgment. That is it.”

“That’s what your PR statement should’ve said. The gossip sites and what’s being said is too much. A rumor is spreading about a Cross curse. Are you aware of this?”

That makes my heart race.

“Her bewitching you. Putting love spells on you,” David says.

Blaire shrugs.

“That’s nonsense. We are friends. I’m allowed to have them. I will see you in November.”

“We need to put this fire out,” David says.

“Then be firemen and do what you have to,” I tell them, then hang up.

Her brow lifts. “Be firemen?”

“Fuck them,” I tell her, leaning over to kiss her.

She grabs my shirt as our tongues slide together. It gets heated way too fast. I’m insatiable for her.

“Shit, I want you so bad,” she whispers. “Take a shower with me at the manor. Give me something to think about all day.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

I pull out onto the road. Everything that surrounds us is brown: the trees, the grass, the building. Pumpkins are everywhere, and so are the tourists. I reach over for her hand. It’s an invitation, and she takes it. We’re carefree in ways I’ve only wished for.

“I could never just be your friend,” I admit as I take the back roads to the manor.

“Sure you could,” she says confidently. “I’m friends with a lot of guys who want to fuck me.”

“Not anymore,” I say.

“Aw, don’t get jealous. There’s only one man in Pine Haven I want.”

She squeezes my fingers, and I grin.