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His brows draw downward. “Not sure about that.”
He turns my hand over. “What do your lines say?”
“Mine suck.”
His sharp brows scrunch as he strokes my palm. “Why’s that?”
“Short life, no kids, meh health.”
His eyes widen. I note the way he draws my hand a faction closer to his chest as he murmurs, “That’s not true.”
I smile and shrug. He doesn’t know how true it is—and I don’t want him to.
“Gwenna…” He gives me a funny little smirk, which morphs into a Cheshire Cat grin. “I wanted you to give a reading for me, but now I have to let you know, you’re doing it all wrong. Trust me—I learned palmistry in India.”
He taps the long, vertical line that starts at the side of my palm, above my thumb, and arcs down toward my wrist. “You’re right that this is the life line, but I don’t see an early death. Just a lot of chaos and disruption.” He raises his brows. “And a lot of what they call vigor.” His face lights up with silly humor.
I can’t help laughing.
He touches the line that starts just under my index finger and stretches across my palm. “This is the head line.” He grins. “This—” he taps— “is a little off. And this—” he touches a line that starts under my pinkie and flows toward my thumb— “this is your heart line. Black as soot.”
His face is so grave, my stomach dips before he breaks into a dimpled grin. “Your heart line is what they call chained.” He leans in and kisses my lips. He squeezes my hand. “Passionate.”
I smile and feel my cheeks sting with self-conscious heat.
“Says you wear your heart on your sleeve.”
I nod slowly. His hand smooths my hair back.
“You read your marriage and children lines wrong, I think.”
“Did I?” I give him a poker face.
He nods. He traces my palm underneath my pinkie finger, along the outer edge. “Your marriage line right here is long and straight. That’s good. And these vertical streaks right above it—they’re some of the hardest ones to read—but they’re definitely there. I see at least two.”
I sit back, grinning. “You’re making this up. You said you had yours read in Hindi.”
Barrett winks. “I’m fluent in Hindi.”
Barrett
I watch her perfect mouth form a little oval. On anyone else, it would be an “o,” but I think her oval is fucking adorable.
“I thought…” She shakes her head and laughs. “My friend Jamie and I went to a palm reader one time in New Orleans. It was before the wreck. She gave both of us terrible predictions, and she wanted us to come back to find out more. Then the accident happened and…”
She shakes her head again, biting her lower lip, and my chest aches for her.
“I thought maybe she was a real medium, you know?” She lets out a sexy chuckle, her tits bouncing slightly. “Since my shitty fortune seemed sort of true, Jamie has been waiting to lose all her beauty and her intellect.”
I don’t know anything about her friend except that she’s Niccolo’s girlfriend and I need to stay away from her. But still, I laugh with Gwen.
She rubs her mouth, still smiling. “You have to read hers, too. Like, ASAP. Put Jamie at ease.”
I reach into my pocket, looking up at her as my hand finds the mood ring. “Close your eyes and hold your hand out one more time. I want to check one other thing.”
Her lips curve as she looks at me. “Do I trust you?”
“Yes.” I can’t help the way my voice cracks on the word. I clear my throat so she’ll think that’s all it was. When she shuts her eyes, I take her hand and slide the ring on her index finger.
