Chapter 27
BLAIRE
The fire went out sometime in the early morning, and I can see my breath. Jamie’s sleeping on his stomach with one arm hanging off the mattress and the blankets shoved down to his waist. He doesn’t move when I climb over him.
I place my logs on the warm coals and put the kettle on. The French press is older than I am, and it still makes better coffee than anything with a screen and buttons on it. By the time it’s steeped, he’s up, wearing some joggers. His hair is messy in a sexy kind of way.
“You’re an early bird.”
“I was cold,” I say, offering him a mug before leaning my back against the counter.
He looks good in the early morning light.
He drinks his coffee slowly, watching me over the rim of the mug.
This beautiful man is looking at me like I’m all that matters.
Without saying a word, he moves into the living room and slides the blanket off the back of the couch.
It’s wrapped around me in seconds, and he rubs me while I cup my mug in my hands.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
“You’re not freezing?” I ask.
“Babe, I played hockey for most of my life and love skiing. I love fall and winter.”
“I learn something new every day,” I tell him as he walks me to the sitting chair close to the fire.
“That’s the point,” he says, stealing a kiss.
I pull the blanket tighter around me and watch him return to the kitchen. Muscles flex as he walks.
Wow.
He turns and looks at me, and I’m smiling.
“What?” he asks, pouring more coffee into his mug.
“Winter asked me where I found the genie who gave me you.”
Coffee spews from his mouth onto the floor, and he’s laughing. “Fuck.”
Jamie cleans up his mess, then finds the oatmeal in the second cabinet.
After he finds a pot and starts the oatmeal, he returns his attention back to me. “It wasn’t a genie, by the way.”
I tilt my head at him, taking a drink of my coffee. “Explain.”
“Sophia told me we’re fated.”
My heart gallops. “What?”
“The witch who cursed my relative is from your bloodline.”
The coffee mug falls from my hands and spills on the floor. Jamie rushes over to me with the same rag he used to clean up his mess. He bends down, soaking up the liquid. Our eyes meet.
“She said that?”
“I think we’re the undoing. We’re supposed to right the wrongs of the past. We break the curse,” he says in a low voice.
I swallow down the lump that formed in my throat. He’s telling the truth.
“You don’t believe that,” I say.
“I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
He moves to the kitchen, taking the oatmeal off the stove.
After he rinses my mug, he pours the rest of the coffee into it.
The oatmeal is portioned into two deep bowls and sprinkled with strawberries.
He even gets fancy with it and adds granola.
In the window behind him on the hillside, the aspens flutter their yellow and orange leaves.
They’ve thinned significantly over the past few weeks.
I meet him at the tiny bar top that’s built into the island.
He pulls out my stool for me, and I take it.
Our legs and bodies touch as we eat in silence, and I think about his cup reading.
It comes to me in flashes, and I try to push it away.
My almost-identical cup appears in my mind.
Sophia said we were fated. The undoing. How?
“I want to go somewhere tonight,” I say.
“Tonight?” he asks. “Anywhere in the world.”
I chew on my bottom lip, knowing he means that. In hours, he could have a jet ready to take me anywhere I want to go. But I really just want to be here. I want him to experience the area from a local’s perspective.
“There’s a town on the next ridge over. Snowberry, Colorado.
It’s a small little ski town where all the buildings look like gingerbread houses.
It’s a hidden gem in this part of Colorado.
No one really knows me there. The bar has a cover band every Friday.
Tonight, to get in, you must be wearing a costume.
We can buy full-face masks, and no one will ever know it’s us.
” I take another bite of the yummy oats.
“A date?” he asks.
“Yeah. We’ll pop into the costume shop at the edge of town and then head that way.”
“Let’s do it.”
At four o’clock, we drive to the end of the road, where one bar of service shows up if the weather cooperates. As soon as I get a signal, texts flood in, but I don’t plan on reading them until I’m back in the real world on Monday.
I call Ruthie. She’s owned the costume shop at the edge of Pine Haven for fifteen years, and she buys her sleep tea from me twice a season. She’ll be forty next year, and she doesn’t give a fuck about dating.
“Blaire Wardwell.” Her voice comes through, and it’s way too happy. “You’re Little Miss Popular in town.”
“Don’t remind me,” I tell her.
“Thirty people were lined up outside your place at lunch. Josie was selling them pumpkin loaves for fifteen dollars each. She sold out soon after.” She laughs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive. I need a favor.”
“Obviously.”
“Can I come by at the end of the day? I need to pick out two costumes, and nobody needs to know.”
“I close at six. Meet me by the dumpster at the back door.” She doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Take the back roads up so nobody sees a damn thing. Avoid Main Street completely. Traffic has been at a standstill all day because of jaywalking.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
“Is he as hot as everyone says?” she asks.
“I’ll let you decide when you meet him.”
She laughs. “Does he have an older brother? I mean, even his dad.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I say. “See you soon.”
We leave early because of traffic, and I direct Jamie where to drive so we’re not spotted. As soon as he cuts the engine, the thick steel door opens.
Ruthie’s wearing a flannel, jeans, and combat boots. One look up at Jamie, and all she says is, “Wow.”
“Hi. Jameson. Nice to meet you.”
I’m not used to hearing him say his full name.
“Do you have any single, older friends?” Ruthie asks.
“Maybe.”
“He’s a keeper,” she singsongs, waving us inside.
The dead bolt clicks behind us when the door slams. We move down a long hallway and step into a giant costume room.
It looks like the back of a theater with a mixture of fabrics, textures, and accessories.
Name it, and she probably has it or will find it for you.
The shop is at the edge of town, and most of the tourists are in the square because of the festival.
The Charmed Cauldron is in the middle of it all.
“Help yourselves. I’m going to finish my closing duties,” she tells us, moving back down the hallway with a cash drawer in her hand.
Jamie and I move around, holding up silly costumes for each other, then move to the back wall, where all the latex full-head face masks are displayed. My eyes scan over the different colors, furs, hair, and textures. It’s incredible.
“Oh, look at this clown one,” I say, standing on my tiptoes, trying to reach it.
I’m too short, and he plucks it down for me.
“Ew, no,” he says, looking at the ferocious pointed teeth. “Too gross.”
He hangs it back up by the ear and reaches for the one beside it instead. A weird elf with a sagging face and enormous rubber ears.
“How about this?” he asks, holding it beside his own head.
“No. Not the right vibe.”
He turns it toward the light. “You’re right.”
We make our way down the wall, looking at the masks from the top of the ceiling down to the floor.
There’s a goat with horns and a devil with bloody teeth.
We pass an alien with a slick gray head that Jamie decides looks like a thumb.
I consider a unicorn with a glittery pink mane.
When I put it on, he laughs, and his eyes soften.
“Watch where you’re pointing that thing,” he says.
“Be nice to my horn,” I say, poking him with it.
I pull it off, and my hair sticks up on my head. He reaches over and smooths it down. I like that he cares.
Then he kisses me, laughing, and I return to the mask wall with my body burning.
At the end, there’s a section of animals. A fox, bear, bison, and rabbit. On the second shelf is a wolf head that’s black and gray with soft fur.
I take it down and show Jamie. “You should be the Big Bad Wolf.”
“Oh, I like,” he says.
I turn it over. The inside is soft, with a strap to make it more comfortable to wear.
He puts it on over his head and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yes, this is the one!”
“Oh, maybe I’ll be Little Red Riding Hood.”
He pulls me over to the sexy dresses and pulls one from the rack, handing it to me. “This one.”
“Really?” I ask, holding it up to my body. It’s my size.
He nods, leading me back over to the wall of masks, pulling another wolf that’s all black from the wall. “But with this. Be a sexy, big red baddie with me.”
“Okay, let me try this on,” I say, moving to the dressing room.
When I walk past him, I grab his hand, tugging him to the back with me. We step inside the room. The curtain is heavy velvet, and it leaves a gap, and I don’t care.
I grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him toward me.
There’s a mirror on the back wall, and a wooden bench along the side, and both masks are set on it.
I turn around and lift my hair off my neck. “Unzip me?”
He takes it down slow. His knuckles drag along every vertebra on the way. The dress loosens, and he pushes it off my shoulder, then it drops on the floor.
He leans in and puts his mouth on the soft curve of my neck. It takes my breath away.
“Feels good,” I manage.
“It’s supposed to. Now, let me see you in that dress, sweetheart.”
I pull the red satin over my head. It slides down my body and lands at my upper thighs.
The hood falls between my shoulder blades, and I have to reach behind myself again.
It fits me like a glove, giving me the perfect amount of cleavage to be sexy and not slutty.
Sometimes, that is a fine line. He watches me, and I wrestle with my desires.
“Look at how fucking pretty you are,” he says, moving my hair over my shoulder.
I see myself in the mirror.
Behind me stands a man much taller than I am, admiring every inch of me.
He steps closer and puts one hand flat on my stomach. My back presses against his chest.
“I want you,” I whisper.
“Stay quiet for me.”
He turns me around and puts my back to the wall and kisses me until I forget where I am. His hot mouth moves along my jaw to that spot below my ear.
“Jamie.” My voice is hushed as I fist his shirt.
“You want this?” His mouth stays against my racing pulse.
“Yes.” I pull him toward me.
His palm slides up the outside of my thigh, dragging satin with it.
“I’ve never done anything like this,” I whisper.
He smiles against my throat. “You’re turned on.”
“Yes.”
He pulls back far enough to see my face. His mouth slides against mine, and it’s not careful. He hooks a finger in the edge of my panties and drags it down my legs until they fall at my ankles. When he touches me, I make a noise I don’t recognize.
“Mm-mm. Gotta be quiet for me.” He kisses me right through it, working me slow and steady.
Down the hall, the cash register drawer bangs shut.
I freeze, but he doesn’t.
“She’s still closing,” he murmurs against my lips. “We’ve got time.”
He slides two fingers inside me, and I sink into him, loving how he stretches me. My hips move.
“Eyes open, sweetheart. Watch me.”
I open them. He’s locked on my eyes as his cock presses into my stomach. I reach forward to touch him, and his other hand grabs my wrist, holding me in place. My pussy clenches around him.
“Fuck, you love this,” he whispers in my ear.
“You do, too.” I stay focused on him as he rubs circles over my clit.
I tuck my bottom lip into my mouth. I never have to beg Jamie to take risks with me. No, he leads the way, guiding me down a sexual path I’ve only wished for. So far, he’s the only man who’s ever been able to fully satisfy my needs.
“What were you just thinking about?” he asks.
“You,” I confess, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Don’t you dare hide from me now. I said, eyes open.”
My arm is still restrained as I turn to kiss him.
“There,” I say. “Stay right there.”
His fingers curl, and his palm drags across me.
My body trembles with anticipation, and I watch him in the mirror as I come apart.
I can’t look away from him as the orgasm rolls through me.
My legs almost give out, and he wraps his arm around my waist, holding me steady.
He doesn’t let me shy away from him. Then he places his fingers into his mouth, loving how I taste.
My head drops back against his shoulder.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he says.
I can’t form a sentence. I nod at him in the mirror instead.
He bends over and lifts my panties from around my ankles. Then he tugs the hem of my dress down, straightens the hood between my shoulder blades, and kisses my bare shoulder once.
“Ready to go be a Big Bad Wolf with me?”
“Hell yes,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.
“And to think, that’s just the first one of the night.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll meet you out there. Take your time.”
Jamie leaves me to myself in the dressing room, and all I can do is smile wide. How is this my life? I squeeze my thighs together, needing to recover because, right now, I look too damn guilty to face Ruthie.
Ten minutes later, I’m sliding my wolf mask over my head and stepping out into the shop. Jamie is wearing a dark suit, dark dress shirt, and a red tie. His mask is already on.
“Wow, you two,” Ruthie says from the counter. “Unforgettable.”
I smile, but no one can see it. I actually kinda like going incognito.
Jamie slips Ruthie a wad of cash. “Thanks.”
“No, this is too much,” she says, holding out a rolled stack of hundreds.
I push the money back toward her. “He can afford it. Trust me.”
Jamie takes my hand and leads me back through the dark hallway.
I turn and wave at Ruthie. “Bye. Thank you!”
“Thank you! Have fun!” There’s excitement in her tone, and it makes me happy that we could brighten her day.
Jamie picks me up in the back alley and carries me to the car.
“Excuse me,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Not sorry, Blaire Witch.” He smirks. “Until Halloween, you’re mine. All or nothing. If I want to carry my woman, I’ll carry her.”
My laughter bounces off the brick walls. The Mustang door opens, and he sets me down inside. I lift my mask, and he lifts his, and then we kiss. The mood grows serious, something I’ve been trying to avoid since last week.
“Do you really believe we’re fated?” I ask, trying to feel him out.
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “You calm my soul.”
He calms mine, too, but I’m not ready to admit that to anyone. Not even myself.
Jamie reaches across me, pulls the belt down over my shoulder, and clicks it into place.
Then he shuts my door and moves around the front of the car.
I watch him, pressing my hand flat over my chest, feeling my heart race.
He’s undoing me.
Maybe that’s why he has the title of Fling King. He feels like forever when it’s only supposed to be temporary. Maybe, this season, he’s the lesson I have to learn.