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Thenher dad had left, and it had been just her and her mom.Hermom who’d fallen apart when her husband had left, leavingRosalieto pick up the pieces, giving her a front row seat to a shattered marriage.Froma distance, she’d watched her dad remarry and have more kids, and then ten years later repeat the cycle, abandoning that family as well for a much younger woman.She’dnever met her grandparents, had lost touch with her father a long time ago, had a politely strained relationship with her mother, and had a handful of first cousins she barely knew and probably wouldn’t recognize if they walked past her down the street.Andbecause of that, she’d thought that roots were something that tied you down.Shedidn’t want to need anyone.Now, she could see how they were something that connected you.
Notthat she had anyone to connect with, but still.Itwas a nice concept, and one she was finding she could appreciate now, seeing it all in action, even if it didn’t exactly work for her life.
Fromthe very end of the hallway, a glimmer of light caught her eye, and she turned in that direction.Shelaughed softly when she saw the old-fashioned fortune telling machine.Itwas a large wooden box with smudged windows showcasing a mannequin dressed as a witch inside, a glimmering placard with the name “Esmerelda” running along the top.Shewas dressed in sparkly purple robes and held a glowing crystal ball in one plastic hand.Theinstructions said to put a quarter in the slot, press one of the buttons labeled love, career, or money, and then place your hands on the crystal ball attached to the front of the machine.
Ajolt of excitement raced throughRosalie, and she glanced over her shoulder.Noone was paying her any attention, so she fished a quarter out of her purse and slipped it into the slot.Itlanded inside the machine with a soft clank and then the entire thing lit up, playing eerie, carnival music.Itwas so delightfully cheesy that she found herself grinning.Whileshe was all quiet luxury on the outside, she had a deep fondness for kitsch of any kind.
“Makeyour selection,” came a sultry woman’s voice tinged with record fuzz.Rosaliestared at the options for a moment.Herfinger hovered over the career button, the most natural, and most obvious choice, but at the last second, she pushed love.Itfelt almost like a compulsion, like a weight on her hand guiding her to that button.
“Placeyour hands on the crystal ball,” said the woman’s voice, skipping once on the word “crystal.”Rosaliedid, and immediately felt a warm tingle make its way up her fingers, through her hands, and up her arms.Thebuzzing sensation spread, coursing through her body until she felt almost lightheaded with it.Allsoft and glowy and warm.
Agrinding sound pulled her back to reality, and she glanced down to see a small piece of yellowed paper sticking out of the machine.Shepulled her hands away from the still glowing ball to retrieve her fortune, frowning in disappointment when she read the three words printed in an old-fashioned looking type.
AROUNDTHECORNER
“Aroundthe corner?” she said out loud, scrunching her face up. “Lame.”Thatdidn’t tell her anything at all.Aroundwhat corner?Loveis just around the corner?Shelaughed at herself and tucked the scrap of paper into her pocket.Sosilly.Thevibes in this town were getting to her.Withher hand still in her pocket, her fingers brushed against the edges of the voucher she’d brought with her, and she made her way back down the hallway and toward the bar.Thespiked hot chocolate was calling her name.
Four
Jacksipped his beer, his eyes on the hockey game.Asthough if he focused hard enough on it, theRangerswould come back and win.
Beckettleaned his hip against the bar, polishing another glass, his eyes on the screen. “Youknow whereMomkeeps the shovel, right?”
“Fuckyou,” he muttered, shaking his head as a grin threatened to surface.
“Alreadytold you, you’re not my type,” saidBeckett, standing up straighter as a customer approached.
Itwas the woman from earlier.Jackcould tell just from the glimpse he got of her in his peripheral vision.
Heforced his attention back to the hockey game.
“WelcometoPourDecisions.WhatcanIget you?”
Sheplaced a voucher down on the bar and slid it across. “I’veheard very good things about the spiked hot chocolate,” she said, her voice sultry with a slight raspiness to it.Thatvoucher meant she was staying at the inn.Definitelya tourist.Atourist with a sexy as hell voice.
Nope.No.Notgoing there tonight.
Becketttook the voucher and grinned at her. “Onespiked hot chocolate, coming right up.”Heset about making the drink with quick, efficient moves designed to show off, and the woman leaned on the bar, watching. “So, first time inGossamerFalls?”Beckettasked, all easy charm.
Hockey.Watchthe hockey game.
“Yeah.It’sbeautiful here.Iwasn’t planning to stay, but with the snow…”
“Ohyeah, you shouldn’t be driving in this,” saidBeckett, flashing her a killer smile as he worked. “Especiallyall alone.”
Thewoman burst out laughing, and it was as though someone had beamed sun directly intoJack’sstomach.
“Wow, so subtle and smooth,” she teased, andBeckett’scheeks actually went a little red.Jackgrinned into his beer.No, wait.Hockey.Hewas supposed to be watching hockey. “Next, you’re going to tell me thatI’mtoo pretty to sit alone, soIshould sit here at the bar so you can keep me company.”
Beckettfrowned as he toasted the marshmallows on top of her drink andJackbit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Uh…well,Iwasn’t…”
Shelaughed again. “Theyoung ones are always so easy to fluster.”
“Maybeit has nothing to do with age, and more to do with you,” saidBeckett, perking right back up as he slid her drink in front of her.Sheignored him completely and reached for her drink.
“OhmyGod, this looks amazing.Yourcheesy attempt at flirting is forgiven if this is half as good as it looks.”Therewas a pause whereJackassumed she was taking a sip—not that he’d know because he was watching the hockey game—and then she moaned softly.
Fuck.No.Hewas trying to be good tonight.Tonot use sex to numb the shit he didn’t want to feel.Growthmindset and all that shit.
