Page 116 of Flirty Fall Fling

“One. Two. Three,” we say together, then walk away from one another.

I move around the edge of the cabin, shaking salt and rosemary on top of the leaves, trying to think about protection and peace. Ten steps in, the silliness of what we’re doing vanishes. I have no idea whether any of this works, but Blaire believes it, so I actually try. That’s a new problem I’ve encountered with her. Usually, I don’t care.

Protection and peace.

The salt lands on the leaves in a thin line behind me.

When I’m on the opposite side of the house, I stare out at the tree line and the mountain. This place is an oasis, and I understand why Blaire loves it so much. I’m happy to be here.

I think about how quickly things have changed and how I’ve built my days around hers. When we’re not together, I’m counting down the hours to see her again. This woman is in my head, in my fucking soul. I like her being there.

On the other side of the cabin, Blaire keeps the same pace as me. She mutters something, but her words don’t carry on the breeze.

Her rule was don’t stop walking, so I keep going.

What Sophia said in my reading hits me in full force.

“The two of you are fated.”

I shake out more salt like I’m seasoning the ground.

There’s not much time left. The fling ends on Halloween, but what if I want more of her?

This morning, Blaire knew the difference between Patterson and me. She crossed the floor and kissed me. It’s like she sees me, knows me. I want to get to know her better. I want to know her favorite color, her secrets, her wishes.

As I pass the windows, the firelight dances against the wall. Our shot glasses are still on the coffee table, where we left them. So are her bra and panties. The wooden swing creaks on its chains from the wind.

What I ask from the universe changes, and my steps get shorter. I want Blaire. I want us. The days we have left will never be enough.

Her boots crunch over leaves, moving toward me at the same pace. My heart flutters, and I pick up my speed.

We reach the front step at the same time, and she stares at me with a perfect smile. Her nose is pink from the cold.

“Thanks for letting me play witches with you.”

She chuckles, then dumps the last of her jar into the space between us. I do the same.

“The circle is complete,” she whispers, her shoulders relaxing.

I lean forward and kiss her. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“You’ve been making a lot of those lately.”

“Yeah, babe, and I plan to keep them too.”

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.