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But it would be better if he wore nothing at all. Boo-yeah! My evil inner voice chimes in. My lady bits all seem to be in cahoots, and my nipples, va-jay, and ovaries all leap to attention. Too bad he ruins it by barking orders and being surly, broody, and related to a bunch of newspaper-buying, promise-breaking soul crushers. Regardless, my lady bits don’t mind. In fact, they don’t wither at all.

So, it means I have to face Ginny with a blush staining my face and a heck of a lot of fire swirling through my insides.

If she notices, she doesn’t let on. “Certainly. I can do that for you right now if you want to follow me to the back.” When Ginny moves out from behind the counter, I can see she’s quite petite, probably somewhere around seventy, and is dressed in a long skirt, a peasant blouse, and a shawl wrapped around her waist. She paired her outfit with heavy silver earrings and a heavy turquoise necklace.

“Just a minute,” Ash calls out as he stalks over and grabs my arm. He steers me toward the door while I try to get over the fact that he’s touching me. I mean, just my arm, but my nipples don’t care. They’re in overdrive, and my lady cave is sure to follow any minute. I swallow thickly, tamping down the hot wave of desire sweeping through me while I rip my arm away from him.

“What are you doing?” I hiss. “Who said you could touch me?” Who said you couldn’t? Wa-zing! I ignore my inner cavewoman and paste on a snarl. “You said we should get a reading, so we’re here. We’re doing this.”

“She’s dressed like a fortune-teller, and she’s burning enough incense to make a person high. There’s also mood music playing.” I notice he’s right. Soothing sounds of nature pump over some hidden speakers somewhere. “This is all fake.”

“So what? Every place looks like this. You think if they had some dank cave in which you had to enter, and it smelled all dank and foul, and there was a big simmering cauldron in the middle, then people would have more fun because it looks more authentic?”

“Yes. Honestly, I do.”

“Sorry to inform you, but caves are in short supply, so we’re staying here. And we’re doing it. Besides, she seems super nice, and you’re acting rude.”

Ash takes a step back like I just physically smacked him. “Rude?” he scoffs. “You’re the one who put on an engagement ring meant for someone else. And for the past day, you have done nothing but stereotyped my family using negative connotations, accused me of being a rich asshole, mocked my education, and said my art is in no way, shape, or form real art, and I’m the one being rude?”

My hands fly to my hips in a super bossy defensive mode. “First of all, you know why I put the ring on. It’s because of all the bad voodoo voices and impulses that go along with the curse, which is solidly your fault. Second, you are rich, and you are an asshole. I have irrefutable proof of that. Also, I never mocked your education. I just said your degrees were useless because they are. And your art? Come on. It’s just a bunch of paint splotches on a canvas. That doesn’t pass as art in my books.”

“You know what the main flaw in your argument is?”

“No.” I roll my eyes hard enough to turn them inside out. “But I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me with all your dazzling, enlightening, straight from the enlightenment era tricks.”

“It’s based on your opinion, not on real logic.”

“My opinion is logic-based, so it’s not a flaw.”

Ash’s lips thin out, his eyes thin out, and his nostrils thin out. Everything becomes thin and infuriated, but he has a good leash on his temper. And then, suddenly, he surprises me because his features return to their normal handsome state—for the love of cream cheese, why do thoughts about Ash’s physique keep popping into my head—and he speaks calmly. With too much logic. Damn him.

“Alright, after we’re done here, we’ll see how logical it is. I’ll point out to you all the uses for my degrees, and I’ll make you a list of all the good things my family has done for this city. I really do resent you calling my granny, brother, and cousins assholes without even knowing them. And me too, for that matter. You don’t know me either. Yes, I’ve been short about the ring, but it’s not every day a person has to try and undo a legit curse, so I apologize that I’ve been a teeny, tiny, littleeeee bit stressed. But it doesn’t make me an asshole. And if you think you can make better art, then by all means. I’ll open up my studio when we get back to the house, and you can have at it.”

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