Page 17 of Flirty Fall Fling

We move back into the kitchen.

“Okay, but you do have a point,” Josie says, making herself another glass of cranberry juice.

“Not even entertaining the idea of seeing that man. He’s an asshole,” I tell them. “He doesn’t take my talents seriously and thinks I’m a joke.”

“Well, if you want to trade places, let me know,” Josie says.

“We’re meeting at seven,” I say. “Want to fill in then?”

Her eyes widen. “And tomorrow, you’re telling us everything.”

“You realize that’s in less than thirty minutes?” Winter asks.

“I do. I’m basically ready. Working myself up to being around him for a few hours. But I should go.”

“Details. Tomorrow,” Josie tells me.

I grab my witch hat and slide on one of my aunt’s velvet robes from the coat rack by the front door, hoping it gives me the strength to survive the next ten hours with Jamie. If that’s even really his name.

When I step outside, the cool air blows my hair from my face. Main Street glows amber. Most of the boutiques that line the sidewalks have transitioned their display windows to welcome in the fall.

The Charmed Cauldron sign is bright in the growing darkness. Underneath it, there’s a tall figure. It’s Jamie, and he’s completely relaxed. He leans against the brick, one ankle crossed over the other, with one hand buried in his pocket and the other holding his phone. The expression on his face is like there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

Our gazes lock, and that familiar pull returns. The undercurrent is threatening to take me under. It’s so intense. Part of me believes I should turn around and refund his money. But I can’t walk away from this man. Not to mention, I need the money to fix the roof.

It’s just ten hours, not a lifetime.

The street falls away, and I envision that symbol at the bottom of those two cups again.

A thrill rushes through me, and it scares me more than any curse he believes he has. Or maybe it’s a joke, and he’s seeing how far he can push.

He smells like cedar and cinnamon.

The universe is cruel for sending me this man.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, too low for him to hear as I close the distance between us.

“You’re late.” He smiles when he says it, keeping his voice low.

“As long as you aren’t.”

I pull my keys from my pocket and unlock the door. The bell gives a jingle, and when he’s through, I lock us in. I don’t turn on the overhead lights as I move through the store. I check to make sure he’s following me. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he silences it.

I lead him past the shelves of potions and good-luck charms, through the same door that’s covered with beads.

“Did you tell your boyfriend you’d be with me tonight?” he asks.

I glance down at the phone vibrating in his pocket. “Did you tell your many girlfriends you paid fifty thousand dollars to hang out with me?”

Laughter releases from him. “You’re feisty.”

“I’m honest. Something you’re not used to.”

He shrugs. “I’d disagree. You haven’t met my family.”

I make a face. “Actually, I don’t like the energy radiating off of you. I have to clear it before we can begin.”

I move to the shelf for my anointing oil, and it’s not here. I close my eyes, blinking hard, hoping it will magically appear. It doesn’t. It’s a sign that we can’t do it here.