Page 117 of Flirty Fall Fling

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.