Page 26 of Meet Cute Magic

She knew this would work.

“Alright, Rosie, you made your point. Get off my bar before the health inspector comes and writes me up,” her ex calls from behind the bar. That’s when her eyes meet mine, finding me as if she knew exactly where I was all along. She takes two steps down the bar until she’s standing right before me. Without even thinking about it, my hands lift, gripping her waist and lifting her up and off the bar. I hold her for a second longer once her feet are on the ground before releasing her and stepping back, my hands feeling like they’ve been set afire.

From a single touch.

“What do you call that one?” I ask as we slide into my car, Rosie cradling her bottle of scotch. It’s not even opened, and she didn’t have to touch her wallet to get it. I think Jake was as eager to get her out of his bar as I was, fearing another uprising.

“What?” she asks, looking to me with a peaceful, fulfilled smile.

“That magic, in the bar?” I ask as I turn on the car and buckle my seatbelt before pulling out of the lot. I’m not sure when her magic will wear off, but if they remember everything that happened, it might be a good idea to get out of here as soon as possible.

Silence comes from the other side of the car, and when I hit a red light, I look at her.

“You thought that was magic?” It’s a question, but it comes out like a statement.

“Uh, obviously? Everyone was completely still, looking at you. What else would that have been?” A beat passes before a loud laugh fills the distance between us, its sound tinged with that same magic she used before, somehow soothing and calming my frayed nerves from the fight. When she comes down from her hilarity, she pats my arm.

“Oh, no, buddy. That was just a pretty girl in a push-up bra being loud and catching their attention.” She shrugs as I gape at her. “Sometimes the most magical things are the most ordinary ones.”

CHAPTER 9

Rosie

41 days until Halloween

Each September, Heartwood Hollow hosts a fall festival that capitalizes on the quirky, wholesome nature of our seemingly magic-tinged town. Businesses set up booths outside, lining Main Street with colorful stands, and festivalgoers wander around, shopping, eating delicious treats, and watching music performances in the main square. While the existence of magic in this area isn’t actually confirmed, the true secret being one that the supernaturals have kept for decades, Heartwood Hollow leans into the fun of it this time of year to encourage tourism. It’s my favorite not just because it means I get to spread my love story magic to even more people, but because Violet makes the world’s best apple cider donuts and sneaks me at least three a day.

Throughout the day, I find myself catching glances of Jack across the way, smiling and waving, watching as he talks to customers with genuine excitement, in between my own customers, but we don’t actually get a chance to talk until a lull hits the street around four o’clock. He catches my eye across the way and I wave, then lift up a white, grease-stained paper bag that Vi handed me thirty minutes before.

“Want a donut?” His eyes go wide, and he smiles before making his way across the street. I reach into the bag and hand him one before grabbing one for myself, then rest my ass on the edge of my table as I enjoy my treat. It’s been a long day, and I know Phillip is watching me from above, annoyed that I didn’t have a real lunch today, but sometimes, that’s life, not that his dead ass would know anything about that.

“That’s smart,” he says, tipping his head to the small map of the festival in a frame on my table before taking another bite of his donut. I nod, looking at a heart around my table on the map. He grabs one of the extra punch cards that let people who visit all of the participating booths enter to win a gift basket of items from all ten booths.

“You’re not on it,” I say. “A paper went around, did you get it?” A blush blooms over his cheeks. I know he’s part of the committee for the businesses in town, but now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take part in anything other than having booths at events.

“Yeah, I got it. I just… didn’t fill it out.”

I nod, understanding. “You forgot?” That blush deepens, and I realize I got it wrong when he shakes his head.

“I just… I didn’t want to put myself on it. Everyone here is so close, and you all have a kind of rapport with one another. You have collaborations or joint sales all the time. Adding in my business just to help push my business felt off.”

My brow furrows, trying to understand, and despite myself, I feel a pang in my chest at the awkward look on his face.

“You go to the business meetings, right?” I’ve seen him sitting in the back because Vi, Poppy, and I sit back there, too, laughing and whispering about Old Man Connors, who always gets up and has some new tirade to rant to the board about. It’s always very entertaining. But I realize now that Jack always sits alone and never stays for drinks and snacks after. I’ve definitely never seen him at one of the mixers, which means he pays dues to be in the business committee, but doesn’t really utilize it at all. “You’re part of the committee. That was the only requirement, Jack.”

“No, no, I know. I just… I don’t really know anyone here. I didn’t want to make it weird, being the nerd with a gaming store disrupting the vibe or something. And as you know, I haven’t been the most… welcoming resident of Heartwood Hollow. I feel like that kind of thing is more for groups of friends who can recommend one another. I don’t want to make Martha down at the gift shop pretend she knows or cares about the Gaming Den.”

Martha is possibly the kindest person on this planet and would hype up anyone she was friendly with. However, if you don’t know her, she can come off a bit standoffish and like she’s annoyed by you, so I can see where he’s coming from. Especially if he doesn’t know her. I guess I take it for granted since I grew up here, but this town is very close-knit and always has been. I’ve known most of the people who own businesses in town since I was a kid, so there was never the awkward getting-to-know-you moment, but it could seem cliquey if you’re a newcomer. I’m sure that with him being someone who is shy and stays to himself, it makes him feel uncomfortable.

Maybe he just needs someone to show him around, make some introductions for him.

With that, though, a plan starts to brew in my mind. I wipe the sugar off my fingers, then turn to the man I’m slowly learning to call a friend.

“Hey, actually, when are you taking a break?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“Haven’t really thought about it. Why, what’s up?” I turn on the drama, looking left and right before leaning into him.

“This might be a good place to get one of our ingredients, if you know what I mean.”