Page 164 of Flirty Fall Fling

Across the street, a man wearing a baseball hat and a tweed gray coat shoves a duffel bag in the back of a vintage black Mustang convertible, parked at the curb with its flashers on. He’s tall. Broad shoulders. Familiar. My heart names him first.

When he turns, I meet his blue-green eyes.

The world around me fades away, and I’m brought back to the first time he ever walked into my shop.

“Blaire?” he asks, tilting his head, looking at me like he’s seen a ghost. He walks toward me. “Blaire. Sweetheart.” He laughs. “I manifested you.”

Our lips crash together, and I grab his face, making sure this is real and I’m not imagining him.

“Are you trying to disappear? Where are you going?”

“To find you.” With his hands in my hair, he pulls my mouth back to his again.

Suddenly, we’re back in the harbor again. We’re in the hay maze and howling at the moon.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers against my mouth. “So fucking in love with you, and I can’t deny it anymore.”

Now I’m crying. “I’m in love with you too.”

“I’m relieved.” His thumbs wipe my tears away. “The fling ended November first. And it did. I want more than that, Blaire.”

“Move in with me,” I say. “At the manor with my roommates and a cat who adores you. I don’t want to wake up without you next to me again.”

“Fuck yes,” he says without hesitation. “Patterson gave me his place on the ridge so we have another escape if we need it.”

I’m giddy.

“What happened to your phone? And the foundation? I thought you were erasing yourself. I thought I’d made you disappear.”

This makes him laugh. “That’s not possible.”

He kisses me again, and when I pull away, I see the flash of cameras in the distance.

“The paps,” I say.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the car. “Want to go on a little road trip?”

“Right now?” I ask.

“Everything I’m taking to Pine Haven is in the trunk.”

“I need to stop by the hotel and grab my bag, but yes,” I tell him.

He closes the trunk.

“Is this your car?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking like a fantasy.

“Can I drive it?” I hold out my palm.

The keys are tossed in the air, and I catch them in my palm. His grin goes wolfish as he opens the door for me, and I drop into the driver’s seat.

“Promise to treat her well?”

“Promise,” I say, and he shuts the door, then climbs into the passenger side.

Once he’s buckled, I push in the clutch and gun it.