Chapter 15 #2
I should be more nervous than I am because I don’t do things like this. But if Jamie wants to know if I’m capable of making him jealous, then fine, I’ll play. I want him to have a taste of the medicine I nearly choked on yesterday.
When I come down the stairs, I tell the girls I’m having a solo night and going out for drinks.
“Hot damn.” Winter waggles her brows.
“I’m planning to have fun tonight,” I say with a wink.
“Obviously.” Josie whistles. “Please find a hottie and go home with him.”
“I might. It’s been a while.” I laugh, happy for the encouragement. I rub my red lips together and flip my dark hair over my shoulder. The black dress hugs my body, giving just enough cleavage to entice. “Don’t wait up for me, girls.”
High Spirits on carnival opening Friday is packed with more people than I expected.
The jukebox is going, and there’s a herd of out-of-towners in brand-new flannel, buying rounds.
I spot Jamie the second I walk in. He’s sitting in a corner booth, a baseball cap low on his head, and he’s drinking whiskey.
Our eyes catch for half a second, and he tips his glass a quarter inch.
I walk up to the bar, standing beside a guy who’s in his late twenties.
He’s cute. He smiles at me and then offers to scoot over, giving me his seat.
I take it. The seat he gave up faces the long mirror behind the bar, which gives me a direct view of Jamie.
I can look at this man straight on and watch Jamie without turning my head an inch. The universe always seems to provide.
“Cole,” the guy says, offering his hand.
“Blaire.”
His grip is warm, and his smile is kind. Up close, he’s even cuter with freckles across his nose.
In the mirror, Jamie takes a sip of whiskey.
“So, Blaire, let me guess.” Cole tilts his head. “You’re not here for the carnival.”
“Just came to get a drink and meet some new people.”
“Perfect. Me too. Can I buy you a drink?” He flags the bartender.
“What are you having?” I ask.
“Bourbon.”
The bartender glances at me.
“I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Love that,” he says, tapping his glass. “I’ll have another as well.”
“Are you from around here?” I ask.
“Nah. My buddies dragged me up from Denver to check out the ski resort for the winter since Xander expanded across the mountain. Have you been up there? They’re all drinking at the resort now. I’m kinda tired of being surrounded by douchebags.”
“I completely agree.”
In the mirror, Jamie seems like he’s enjoying the show. He’s cocky and comfortable. We’ll see how long that lasts.
My drink arrives, and I turn toward Cole, knees angled in his direction, chin propped on my hand. “What do you do in Denver?”
“I’m a firefighter.” He mentions it with fake modesty.
I touch his forearm. “Really? You save lives for a living?”
He laughs. “I have before, but it’s not something I put on my résumé.”
He’s good at this. He asks what I do, and I tell him I’m a witch. Instead of making a joke out of it, he leans in, like things just got more interesting.
“Prove it.”
I take his hand in mine and turn it over. I don’t need the mirror to feel Jamie’s eyes burning into me. I trace one line with my fingernail while Cole stays very still.
“This is your lifeline.”
It’s deep and long, wrapping wide around the base of his thumb.
“Does it tell you when I’ll die?”
I chuckle. “No. That’s just a myth. It tells me you live full throttle. You burn energy like it’s free.”
He smirks, tilting his head. It’s flirty. Too flirty. “That’s true.”
“You take a lot of risks.” I tilt his palm toward the bar light, and there it is—a clean break in the line, healed over with another line running beside it. “Did you have an injury at some point? Something major?”
Cole’s face softens. “I had a football injury sophomore year of college. That’s why I …” He stops. “How is that in my hand?”
“You’d be surprised what else is here.” I move my nail up to the top of the palm, the line running beneath his fingers.
“This is your heart line. Yours starts under the index finger, which means when you commit, you give it your all. You’re a keeper, Cole from Denver.
But see this here?” I press the little linked islands in the line, and he leans in close.
“You fell in love once, and it went wrong for you. It was devastating.”
He doesn’t say anything in response. That’s how I know it’s true.
“You’re good at this,” he says.
I shrug. “And to think, this isn’t my specialty.”
People hold out their hands as a joke and go quiet as soon as I say something that resonates with them.
“What is this one?” He points at it.
“This is your fate line.” I trace the vertical crease climbing the center of his palm. “Self-made. You picked your work because it fulfills your soul. It suits you.”
Then I tip his hand a last few degrees to the fine, short marks on the edge below his pinkie. The whole picture assembles itself, and I look up at him.
“There’s a woman you’re trying to forget, and you almost asked her to come this weekend, but decided against it,” I say.
The intuition is really flowing tonight.
He exhales. “We work together. It’s very complicated.”
“It’s really not.” I fold his fingers closed over his own fortune and pat his fist once, like I’m keeping his secrets. “It’s not too late. Have your last little hurrah before you commit. And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Wow,” he says, a little hoarse. “You’re the real deal.”
I flip my hair over my shoulder. “I am.”
“Blaire.”
Cole looks at me and leans forward. I move an inch, but don’t let his lips touch mine.
I smirk, holding his chin in place. “There’s no rush.”
He laughs. “You have this vibe about you. It’s … intoxicating.”
“I’ve been told that a time or two.”
I down the rest of the bourbon, and Cole orders us another round.
Our bodies are close, touching. In the mirror, Jamie’s smirk is gone.
His sleeves are rolled to his forearms, and his eyes are locked on me.
The drink he had sits empty on the edge.
His jaw is set firm. That was the line for him, and, damn, do I know that feeling.
But honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to get under his skin.
The moment puffy vest touched his arm, I had to walk away.
Cole leans closer. “Okay, real question. Can I get your number? I’m here all weekend. I’d love to take you out.”
“Oh, you want me to be your hurrah?”
He leans in, running his fingers through my hair, and whispers in my ear, “I can be yours too.”
I pull away, and in the mirror, Jamie rises slowly and sets cash on the table. Then he walks toward the door with his shoulders set. My phone buzzes against the bar.
Jamie
Game over. Outside. Now.
“Sorry. I’ve got to go. My friend is having an emergency,” I tell Cole, sliding off the stool. “Thanks for the drinks. It was nice meeting you.”
“Can I see you again?”
I shake my head. “Go get your girl.”
“Thank you,” he calls after me, sweet and confused, already turning back to his bourbon.
The cold is intense after the warmth of the bar. I walk down the sidewalk and find Jamie waiting in the dark between the streetlight and the wall. When I reach him, he doesn’t say anything. That’s how I know. The act is gone.
“That was barely an hour,” I say. “The deal was, you’d watch all night.”
“I couldn’t handle five more minutes of that guy touching you.” His voice comes out rough.
“So, we’ve learned you do get jealous.”
“I usually don’t. He almost kissed you, Blaire. I was about to beat his fucking face in.” He lifts his hat and drags a hand through his hair.
“I wasn’t going to allow it to get that far,” I explain.
He narrows his eyes. “You read his palm. You said you didn’t do that.”
“It’s not my specialty, Jamie. I wasn’t lying when I told you that.”
He lets out a breath. “I have a new rule for the season,” Jamie says.
I study him.
“No one else. Not during our fling. I know what you said last night about dating other people, and I can’t do it. You being with someone else is off the table, or we end it here.”
I take a step forward and grab his hand. “I’m not dating anyone else. I barely agreed to this arrangement. But you do need to search for that person who’s meant for you, Jamie.”
“No. Until Halloween, it’s just you and me.”
I stare at him, wishing I could read his mind. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Because this can’t be anything more than what it is. You’re leaving in November. I need to focus on establishing myself in Pine Haven.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me,” he says, and my heart stutters.
“Not yet,” I tell him, and he pulls me closer.
“I need to have you all to myself. Is that asking too much?”
The seriousness on his face causes a chill to rush over me. I close my eyes and listen to my intuition.
Give him a chance.
I smile, and he returns it.
“Weirdly enough, I think I just heard my aunt speak to me from the afterlife.”
He rests his hands on my hips. “Yeah? And what did she say?”
“Exclusivity until November,” I say. “That’s the final rule.”
He exhales like he’s been holding that breath since the moment I entered High Spirits. His hands are in my hair, and he’s kissing me as I push him against the cold brick. He tastes like whiskey and toothpaste.
“Come home with me,” he says against my mouth.
“I kinda like you jealous,” I admit.
He tugs on my lip. “You’re going to love it.”
We walk fast through the dark with our hands not touching. The carnival is still in full swing in the square, and the rides will stay lit until midnight. When we turn the block to where he parked, our fingers brush together, and I feel a tiny rush of excitement.
Then I hear a small voice reminding me what his cup said. While I should hesitate, I find myself walking faster.