Page 59 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Actually, it’s kinda hilarious, and one day, it will make for a great story among friends.” He clears his throat. “So, there was this one time a witch brought me to her lair, and we got trapped.”

“Hardy har har.” I roll my eyes, but it’s not like he can see it. I grab his hand and pull him up the stone steps. “Can you try the latch with your infinite strength?”

“Ah, think I have the magic touch?” he asks.

I guide his hand onto the latch. “Push in, then pull down.”

He reaches over me, infuriatingly calm, and does what I said.

It clicks, and the door glides open like it’s been waiting all morning for him.

Early morning sunshine pours down the steps. We stare at the open door, then at each other, and he grins.

“Don’t,” I warn.

He wiggles his fingers. “Magic touch.”

I lift a brow. “Actually, kinda agree with that.”

Jamie takes a step forward, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me. “We survived.”

“For now,” I tell him, wrapping the robe tighter around my body.

He grabs his belt and clothes, then properly redresses. I tiptoe into the library, and the clock says ten minutes past eight. Water rushes upstairs through the old pipes, which means someone is in the shower.

“Stay here,” I whisper, planting a hand in the middle of his chest. “Do not move. Do not touch anything. If someone comes in, act like a ghost.”

“And haunt them?”

“Be invisible.”

I slip out of the library and move down the hall. Charlie is at the end, sitting, like he’s been expecting us. He looks at me. He looks past me, at the library doors. Then he opens his mouth and lets out the loudest meow of his nine lives.

“Traitor,” I whisper.

Scooping him up mid-second-meow, I carry him with me like a furry alarm. I move into the kitchen, holding him tight.

Josie is at the counter in her pajamas, hair in a bun, scrolling her phone with a coffee in one hand. Three feet behind her, draped over the chair, is Jamie’s jacket. Black and expensive.

“Morning,” she says without looking up. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. What about you?” There was hardly any sleeping last night.

I kiss Charlie on his head and set him down. He takes off running back down the hallway, meowing.

“What’s his deal today?” she asks.

“He’s in a mood,” I tell her, pouring myself a cup of coffee, trying to act as normal as possible. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since six. I’ve been on ghost patrol all morning.” She says it like it’s normal. “I was waiting to hear from him again.” She finally looks up at me. “But I heard nothing. Not one creak.”

She has no idea her ghost spent the night twelve feet under, drinking French wine with me.

I take a long sip of coffee to keep my face out of the conversation. “Maybe he moved on?”

“Potentially.” She narrows her eyes at the ceiling as if it might confess. “Before we open the shop, I’m swinging by the carnival. The food trucks and booths open today, and I want to check out the funnel cake situation. Nothing like fried dough, covered in powdered sugar, for breakfast.”

“Oh, yeah. You should stop by the Chamber of Commerce and get the application for the pie contest.”