Page 168 of Flirty Fall Fling

She sets her cocoa on the coffee table and pulls me down onto the couch with her. Wish number three takes the rest of the morning. We only break for lunch.

Snow gathers on the windowsills while we stay warm, wrapped together in blankets. Firelight and overcast make the room glow. There’s no clock anywhere, or no reason to even look for one. Blaire dozes off against my chest with her fingers laced through mine, and I lie there, holding the love of my life in my arms. My eyes grow heavy, and at some point, I fall asleep too.

We wake when the light disappears, and the fire burns down to embers.

“Feed me,” she mumbles into my chest. “Or I might wither away.”

“Oh, can’t fucking have that,” I say. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t feed his witchy woman?”

“An ex-boyfriend.” She snickers.

We add more wood and cook dinner together. The kitchen is small but big enough for the two of us to work around one another. The meadow is covered in a blanket of white.

We eat spaghetti on mismatched plates by candlelight.

“Admit it,” she says, pointing her fork at me. “My tingly feeling was right. Taking the day off was the right decision.”

“You should always trust your intuition. It’s never wrong.”

“Never.” She steals a meatball off my plate. “I’m glad it’s you. Can’t imagine spending time with anyone else.”

“Keep it that way.”

“Forever.” She grins at me over her glass of Little Black Cat Wine.

When our plates are empty, I send her to the couch and take my time with the dishes. From the kitchen, I watch her settle in after she adds more wood to the fire.

She looks over her shoulder at me. “I miiiiiss you.”

“Miss you more.” I smile, crossing the room toward her.

She’s already scooting over to make room for me next to her, but instead of sitting, I freeze.

“Jamie?” Her eyes meet mine and hold.

We’ve always been able to carry an entire conversation without a word. It happens across crowded rooms. Somewhere inside the silence, the invisible string that’s run from her heart to mine since the moment we met pulls tight and knots itself into forever.

Everything I planned to say is gone.

There’s no line, no game, no smooth version of me left anywhere in this cabin.

There’s just her, right in front of me, smiling sweetly, waiting patiently for me to speak.

So I do what I should’ve done weeks ago and drop down onto one knee.

39

BLAIRE

“Blaire Wardwell …” He says my name like a vow.

He’s down on one knee in front of the couch. A black velvet box sits open in his hand. A beautiful, solitaire diamond ring catches the firelight and throws rainbow sparkles.

“I walked into your shop with a family curse, a numb heart, and a pessimistic attitude about life. Then I met you, and everything changed. For once in my life, I found someone who made all of this worth it. Falling in love with you was easy. Even though you sometimes find it hard to speak your truths, I want to hear them. My entire life, I thought I was meant to be alone. But I just hadn’t found you. Now that I have, I can’t imagine living another day without you as my wife. I want to wake up with you every day. I want to feel your ice-cold toes in the middle of the night. I want to wish upon stars with you. Look for signs. I want to spend a lifetime with you, Blaire Witch.” His emotions take over, and he doesn’t fight it. “Because you’re mine, sweetheart. You were mine before I believed love was possible. Fated. So, marry me. Be my witchy wife, Blaire, and make me the happiest skeptic in the world.”

Tears stream down my face, but I’m laughing. “Yes, yes. No question.”

Our lips slam together, and then he’s sliding the ring onto my finger, past the knuckle. It fits like it’s home, and this time, it feels right. He stands, and I do too. I wrap my arms around his neck, and I’m off the ground, spinning in the living room.