Page 8 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Would you like me to focus on professional or personal?”

He chews on the corner of his lip. “Personal.”

“Okay.” I reach forward, turning the burner on that’s sitting to the side.

When I poured his tea, I prepped the coffee, making it exactly how my aunt had taught me. The liquid is thick in the cup.

Steam rises from the top, and he inhales. “Smells amazing.”

“Take a sip,” I offer. “Tastes great too.”

He does.

“I expected it to be bitter,” he says.

“Relax. You’re still tense. Close your eyes and take a deep breath in and then out,” I say.

His eyelids flutter closed, and his shoulders sag on the exhale. The candlelight moves over his face, and I follow the stubble along his jaw. I allow myself to memorize him. He’s too handsome for his own good, but underneath the confidence, there’s a weariness he can’t hide from me.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I’m reading your energy,” I explain.

One side of his mouth tips up. “And what does the great witch see?”

“You’re a man who’s used to getting whatever he wants.” I keep my voice low, channeling my aunt. When she gave readings, I always wanted to lean in closer. “You’re not sure what to do when you’re not in control, and that keeps you up at night.”

His eyes open, and he pins me in place, like he has power over me.

“Hilarious,” he says in a calm tone.

“We’re just getting started,” I tell him, knowing I struck a nerve. “If you’re uncomfortable, you’re more than welcome to stop the reading here and leave.”

He grins. “I’m not letting you out of this. I’ll see it through.”

“Great.” I glance down at his cup, knowing we’re ready for the next step. “Now you’ll flip your cup onto the saucer in one motion.” I put the saucer on top of the cup and scoot it toward him.

He blinks a few times. “I’ll make a mess.”

I stand, grabbing another saucer and cup. I pour the rest of the coffee into mine, then add the plate on top. “We’ll do it together, okay? We’ll move it in a circle three times, clockwise.”

On the count of three, we turn them upside down onto the saucers at the same time, then move them in a circle.

“Now, make a wish,” I tell him.

Our eye contact doesn’t budge, and if I’ve ever wished I could read minds, it’s now.

“Done,” he finally says, and we set our dishes on the table.

For a moment, it feels like time stops.

“What was in that tea?” he asks.

“Lavender,” I say. “How do you feel?”

“Like you put a spell on me.”

My face cracks into a smile. “I’ve actually heard that one before.”