Page 62 of Flirty Fall Fling

I should be more nervous than I am because I don’t do things like this. But if Jamie wants to know if I’m capable of making him jealous, then fine, I’ll play. I want him to have a taste of the medicine I nearly choked on yesterday.

When I come down the stairs, I tell the girls I’m having a solo night and going out for drinks.

“Hot damn.” Winter waggles her brows.

“I’m planning to have fun tonight,” I say with a wink.

“Obviously.” Josie whistles. “Please find a hottie and go home with him.”

“I might. It’s been a while.” I laugh, happy for the encouragement. I rub my red lips together and flip my dark hair over my shoulder. The black dress hugs my body, giving just enough cleavage to entice. “Don’t wait up for me, girls.”

High Spirits on carnival opening Friday is packed with more people than I expected. The jukebox is going, and there’s a herd of out-of-towners in brand-new flannel, buying rounds. I spot Jamie the second I walk in. He’s sitting in a corner booth, a baseball cap low on his head, and he’s drinking whiskey. Our eyes catch for half a second, and he tips his glass a quarter inch.

I walk up to the bar, standing beside a guy who’s in his late twenties. He’s cute. He smiles at me and then offers to scoot over, giving me his seat. I take it. The seat he gave up faces the long mirror behind the bar, which gives me a direct view of Jamie. I can look at this man straight on and watch Jamie without turning my head an inch. The universe always seems to provide.

“Cole,” the guy says, offering his hand.

“Blaire.”

His grip is warm, and his smile is kind. Up close, he’s even cuter with freckles across his nose.

In the mirror, Jamie takes a sip of whiskey.

“So, Blaire, let me guess.” Cole tilts his head. “You’re not here for the carnival.”

“Just came to get a drink and meet some new people.”

“Perfect. Me too. Can I buy you a drink?” He flags the bartender.

“What are you having?” I ask.

“Bourbon.”

The bartender glances at me.

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

“Love that,” he says, tapping his glass. “I’ll have another as well.”

“Are you from around here?” I ask.

“Nah. My buddies dragged me up from Denver to check out the ski resort for the winter since Xander expanded across the mountain. Have you been up there? They’re all drinking at the resort now. I’m kinda tired of being surrounded by douchebags.”

“I completely agree.”

In the mirror, Jamie seems like he’s enjoying the show. He’s cocky and comfortable. We’ll see how long that lasts.

My drink arrives, and I turn toward Cole, knees angled in his direction, chin propped on my hand. “What do you do in Denver?”

“I’m a firefighter.” He mentions it with fake modesty.

I touch his forearm. “Really? You save lives for a living?”

He laughs. “I have before, but it’s not something I put on my résumé.”

He’s good at this. He asks what I do, and I tell him I’m a witch. Instead of making a joke out of it, he leans in, like things just got more interesting.

“Prove it.”