Page 94 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Oh, who’s the lucky person you’re cooking homemade pasta for?” she asks, grinning. She clocked the flour, eggs, tomatoes, and basil.

“You’re just like Autumn,” I say. “Nosy.”

“Ah, I’m soooo much worse. I’m a psychiatrist.”

“Dangerous woman,” I mutter.

“Yes, indeed,” she says, keeping her focus on me. “So, are you dating Blaire? Is it a temporary thing?”

“Excuse me?” I stare at her, then glance around the grocery store to make sure no one else is around. But I’m also stuck wondering if it’s that obvious.

She keeps that sweet smile planted.

“That’s not a no,” she adds.

“It’s not an anything. Do you make it a habit to interrogate everyone in the checkout line about their personal life?”

“Only the ones buying three bouquets of flowers and ingredients to make some delicious pasta on a Tuesday,” she says.

“What if I was buying myself flowers?” I ask, keeping my face neutral.

Judging by her smirk, she’s not buying that as an answer. The teenager rings everything up without looking away from his screen until the bouquets slide past.

“Oh, you are having a date tonight,” he says.

“You hush,” I tell him, pulling out my card. “I’ll pay for her candy bar too.”

Winter slides it toward the guy, and he scans it in. “Thanks. You know, Blaire texted me thirty minutes ago and told me she had dinner plans tonight so she would be home late. Weird coincidence, isn’t it?”

He bags everything into paper sacks and hands over my receipt.

“Have a good day, Winter.”

“I’m sure yours will be much better than mine.” She’s handed her candy bar and unwraps it. Then she takes a bite.

I carry the four bags to the car and place them in the tiny trunk. Before I pull off, I call my brother again, but I get his voicemail.

“Call me back, Pattycakes,” I say. “We need to talk.”

I almost spilled it all after the beep, but I know he’ll get back to me. It’s mid-season, and I need to be patient. His days are spent at hockey practice, filming, volunteering, and then napping like a toddler. I don’t want him being bombarded with cameras before I can warn him, even if he didn’t always give me the common courtesy. This is the best I can do from two thousand miles away.

Over an hour later, because of traffic, I’m finally up the mountain and pulling into the private gate that leads to the glass house on the ridge. After I park and unpack the groceries, I clean before Blaire comes over. It’s not dirty, but more for my nerves than anything.

I put the flowers in a vase in the center of the table and find some candles with the plastic still on them. When I’m halfway through wiping down counters, my phone vibrates.

Blaire

Should I bring anything tonight?

Jamie

Just you.

Blaire

Clothes optional?

Jamie