Page 71 of Flirty Fall Fling

“I hope you have a better day,” I say instead, knowing her frustration really has nothing to do with me.

Her jaw works like she’s chewing on glass. I think she might say something back to me, but instead, she walks away and disappears in the crowd. I let out a breath, wishing my heart would stop racing.

“The nerve of that old biddy.” Josie is fuming. “Who does that?”

“She’s still upset that her husband fell in love with Flora,” Doris Jean says, settling back into her chair. “Don’t let her steal your shine, sugar.”

I smile and give Josie a hug, and then it’s back to business. My hands shake under the table as I think about what Maren said. It’s something I’ve heard people say since I was a kid.

“You ruin every man’s life you touch.”

Jamie has his curse, but I’m starting to believe I’ve got my own.

Around four, the line at my wagon dies down. I go inside and clean up, knowing I’ll get another rush right before dark.

“Incoming,” Josie says, letting me know someone is making their way inside.

The wagon shakes as heavy footsteps move up the stairs. The curtain moves to the side, and I forget to breathe when I see him.

Jamie. He ducks through the doorway with messy, windblown hair. The room fills with the scent of cedar and cinnamon. The curtain closes behind him, and then it’s just the two of us. The sounds of the carnival and tourists fade away.

He sits in the chair directly in front of me, not saying a single word.

“Welcome to Charmed Cauldron,” I say, keeping the script I’d give anyone else. “We’re going to do a three-card personal reading today.”

His eyes leave mine and trail lower with no apology. He studies my mouth, my bottom lip bitten raw all day, down my body, like he’s peeling off my clothes. There’s no rush as he memorizes me. By the time his eyes return to my face, my skin is burning from my toes to the top of my head.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows exactly how my body responds to him from a single glance.

“Shall we get started?” I ask.

His eyes narrow as he reads me. I shuffle the deck.

“Why did you leave?” he asks, and I can tell he’s pissed.

I deal three cards face down, and he reaches under the table and puts his hand on my thigh.

His fingers slide up, taking the hem of my skirt with them. He stops high on my thigh. My breath goes ragged because a single touch from him undoes me. I grab his wrist, and he raises one eyebrow. I don’t move his hand away, and he notices.

I flip the first card. A man with a little pack stands at the edge of a cliff, face tipped to the sun, one foot already over nothing. “The Fool,” I whisper, having seen this card a hundred times. “New beginnings. The Fool has left everything familiar behind him, and he’s traveling into the unknown.”

His thumb strokes once along the inside of my thigh, and I swallow hard.

“The cliff means …”

He nods.

“The cliff means risk. But look at his face. The Fool isn’t afraid of the fall. But he should be because change is coming.” I get through it. Barely.

“Mmm.” His thumb moves, and he waits.

Next, I flip the Nine of Cups, and it shows a satisfied man sitting with his arms crossed in front of cups arranged like trophies.

“This is one of the best cards in the deck. The wish card.” My adrenaline rushes. “The thing you want most is already on its way. This is a wishes granted card.” I swallow. “Complete satisfaction.”

His fingers slide higher, and one knuckle grazes between my legs. The lace is soaked through.

“Always wet for me.” That sentence is filthier than any paragraph he could’ve said because it’s true.