Hot For You

by Evans, Jessie

  “How about some peanuts?” Mick paused in front of the cathedral, where food vendors, fortunetellers, and people selling crafts fought for space on the paving stones.

  Faith shook her head. “Really, I’m fine. I can make it until dinner.” Her gaze roved over the colorful mix of people, her eyes lingering on an old woman with bronzed skin and a purple scarf knotted in her brown-and-gray-streaked hair. A deck of tarot cards rested on the battered trunk in front of her, a sign propped against it that proclaimed “Tarot Readings Here.”

  Faith had never seen a fortuneteller in real life before, but that wasn’t a big surprise. She hadn’t seen much of anything, really. She’d been to Pensacola, Florida once with her mother when she was little—long enough to fall head over heels in love with the ocean—and camping near Hilton Head half a dozen times with her cousins, but that was the extent of her world travels.

  “You want to?” Mick asked, nodding toward the fortuneteller.

  Faith shook her head. “Nah, I don’t believe in that stuff.”

  “Me either.” Mick grinned. “But it could still be fun. Let’s do it.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, but as Mick started toward the woman, her hand still held tight in his, she didn’t offer any resistance.

  “Good evening,” the fortuneteller said in a thick, Louisiana drawl more honeyed than the Georgia accents Faith was used to. She smiled widely, revealing rows of surprisingly straight teeth. “You two bebs interested in a reading?”

  “It depends on how much it costs,” Faith said before Mick could reply. She was all for trying something silly, but only if it wasn’t going to cost an arm and a leg.

  “I do a full, eleven-card reading for thirty dollars,” the woman said. “Or a single question, three-card spread for ten.”

  Faith cast Mick an uncertain look. Ten dollars was a little steep in her opinion. That was two bags of food for Captain Snugglepants. She was about to tell Mick she’d changed her mind, when the fortuneteller spoke again.

  “How about a quittin’ time special? I’ll do a single question for five, and you’ll be my last read of the day.”

  “Sounds great. Thank you, ma’am.” Mick reached into his wallet and withdrew a five-dollar bill that he set on top of the woman’s makeshift table.

  The trunk looked old and heavy, which made Faith wonder how the relatively frail-looking woman—she couldn’t be more than five-three and a hundred pounds soaking wet—was going to get the thing out of the square when she decided to leave. Hopefully she had some strapping sons or grandsons to help out. If not, maybe she and Mick could help her carry the trunk to her car.

  “All right, cher.” The woman tucked the five dollar bill into the pocket of her long, multi-colored caftan with one hand as she plucked the deck of cards from the table with the other. “While I shuffle, I want you two to focus on a question, something you want to know about your future.”

  Mick glanced at Faith, an uncertain look in his eye that Faith completely understood. Now that they’d committed to this, it was a little unnerving. Their relationship was so new; it was intimidating to dwell too much on the future.

  “What do you think?” Mick asked. “Something low-key?”

  Faith thought for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t think low-key works for us.”

  Mick smiled, obviously pleased with her answer. “All right. How about we ask if we’ll be together this time next year?”

  Faith’s eyes widened—surprised that Mick was already thinking that far ahead. Surprised, but not displeased or freaked out. Even after two days, she knew she wasn’t going to get tired of having Mick around anytime soon.

  After a moment, she nodded her assent, too shy with the fortuneteller listening in to say anything out loud.

  “An excellent question.” The woman set the cards on the edge of the table. “Let’s have one of you cut the deck, and the other will pick your cards.”

  Faith reached for the deck. “I’ll cut, sounds like less responsibility.”

  Mick laughed. “Thanks a lot. Does that mean I get blamed if the cards are bad?”

  “There are no bad cards.” The fortuneteller smiled as she reclaimed the cards and fanned them into a horseshoe on top of the trunk. “There are only cards we understand, and those we still need to figure out.”

  Faith resisted the urge to sigh. This was starting to sound pretty New-Agey—something she’d had a distaste for ever since her mother’s “love spell” phase, when Pressie had been certain burning the right candle or wearing the perfect pink crystal around her neck would ensure her latest loser stuck around—but Faith pushed her wave of irritation away. This was for fun, after all. No reason to take anything too seriously.

  Mick selected three cards, and the woman arranged them in a row. She turned the middle card over first.

  “The Knight of Batons.” She nodded, smiling as if this was what she had expected. “The card symbolizes readiness for a journey. You are both young and strong and prepared to embark on the coming exploration. You are filled with confidence, and eager to discover the secrets adventure always holds.”

  Faith and Mick exchanged a look. Mick looked amused, but wary, too. They had just been talking about secrets, and there was no way the fortuneteller could have overheard them clear on the other side of the square.

  Mick recaptured Faith’s hand, holding tight as the woman turned over a second card.

  The fortuneteller leaned in, brows drawing together as she glanced at the card and then up to where Mick and Faith stood, her eyes shifting back and forth between them. “The Nine of Swords. It can mean many things, but in a relationship reading this card often represents steadiness in the face of adversity. One of you will experience hardship in the near future. During this time of struggle, the other partner will be the Nine of Swords, the person who empathizes, but stands strong in the time of trial.”

  Faith took a deep breath. “Well, that sounds like fun.”

  The fortuneteller smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Life and love are not always fun, are they, cher? But that’s why we have card number three, the card that gives hope for the future.” She glanced back down, turning over the last card with a satisfied sigh. “Ah, the Seven of Swords. The knight in shining armor.”

  The woman looked up again, and Faith fought the urge to roll her eyes. This lady had her pegged wrong if she thought Faith was the type who wanted to hear that a man was going to sweep in and solve all her problems.

  “One of you has a sleeping hero inside of them,” the fortuneteller continued, earning Faith’s grudging respect for introducing the possibility that a woman could also be a knight in shining armor. “The emergence of this hero could be related to the coming adversity hinted at by the Nine of Swords. This may be the catalyst that spurs the inner hero to turn obstacles into cornerstones for the future.”

  Mick nodded, but his brow remained wrinkled. “So what’s the verdict? Will we last the year?”

  The fortuneteller held up her hands, fingers splayed wide. “This is the question, no? The cards give direction, but the decision is yours.” She leaned forward, gathering the cards into a stack before pulling a scrap of purple velvet from her pocket and beginning to wrap the cards inside it.

  “Fate is not as cruel a mistress as some of these charlatans would have you believe,” she continued, motioning around the square. “Free will plays a part in your destiny. Don’t forget that. Fate deals the hand, but you decide whether to stay or fold.”

  Faith frowned, a part of her wishing they hadn’t done this. The reading felt so…real, and not nearly as lighthearted as she’d expected.

  “Well, thank you,” Mick said, squeezing Faith’s hand before reaching into his wallet and placing another five on top of the trunk. “Do you need help carrying this to your car? It looks heavy.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.” Faith grinned up at him before turning back to the woman who was now opening the trunk and tucking her cards insid
e.

  “What sweet bebs,” the fortuneteller said with a throaty laugh. “But my husband is coming soon. He’s as big as this boy.” She motioned to Mick. “And still as strong as the day I married him thirty years ago.” She winked at Faith. “Don’t let this one slip away, cher. He’s a good one, I can tell. I have a knack for it.”

  Faith returned the woman’s smile. “Thanks. Maybe I won’t.”

  Mick lifted a hand to the fortuneteller as they drifted away, before turning back to Faith, nudging her shoulder with his. “Maybe? What’s with this maybe stuff?”

  She shrugged, fighting a grin. “Don’t want you to get too confident.”

  “No worries about that, what with all the talk about adversity and times of trial.” Mick sighed, peering up at the cathedral as they moved closer. “I’ve had enough of being a knight in shining armor, to tell you the truth. My ex needed enough saving for twenty damsels in distress.”

  “Well, I’m not the type who needs saving,” Faith said. “So don’t start polishing your armor on my account. Besides, she said the knight in shining armor could be either one of us, and I think a firefighter is a better candidate for heroism than a guy who replaces kitchen cabinets for a living.”

  “Hey, I resent that,” Mick said, shooting her a mock glare as he stopped in front of the cathedral. “I build cabinets too, you know. There’s artistry involved.”

  Faith smiled. “I’m just saying you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know that,” Mick said, the teasing expression vanishing from his face. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there if you need me. I’m just more interested in being a partner than a hero.”

  Faith leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “A partner sounds perfect.”

  Mick’s eyes darkened as he scanned her face in the fading light. “You keep getting prettier. How is that possible?”

  “Must be the dress,” Faith said, shyness at the compliment vanishing as Mick’s mouth moved closer to hers and an increasingly familiar wave of longing washed through her.

  “It’s not the dress. It’s all you,” he said as his lips met hers.

  A moment later his tongue slipped into her mouth and Faith tasted coffee and sugar from their afternoon snack and something else, something that was purely Mick and made her body ache all over. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted him. She craved his touch the way she imagined addicts craved their next fix, but every kiss made the sensation a little less scary. She could tell Mick felt the same way. He was as crazy for her as she was for him, and together their two crazies felt like the sanest thing in the world.

  Long, delicious moments later, Mick pulled away with a sigh. “Two days isn’t going to be enough. I wish I could kidnap you for the entire week.”

  Faith’s arms tightened around his waist, loving the way their bodies felt pressed together. “I know. It makes me wish I hadn’t taken so much time off already. But I’m out of vacation days, and my savings is looking pretty sad right now, so I probably couldn’t afford a week’s vacation, anyway.”

  Mick glanced at the cathedral before turning back to her, an anxious look in his eyes. “I kind of have a confession to make.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Faith’s eyebrows lifted. “What’s that?”

  “You know how I said I majored in computer programming?” he asked, continuing when Faith nodded. “Well, I chose the major because I’d already been designing apps for years.”

  “Really?” Faith said, surprised though she probably shouldn’t be. She’d known Mick was smart. He’d been their class valedictorian, after all.

  “Yeah. The upside to not dating in high school was that I had plenty of time to mess around with coding. I designed the recipe app for Naomi’s television show our junior year, and the work flowed from there.” He shrugged. “Then in college, my friend Andy and I designed a chat app that we sold for a pretty decent stash of cash, so…”

  Faith frowned. “You’re telling me you’re not as poor as I am, is that it?”

  Mick smiled. “I’d say you’re rich in every way that counts. Good friends, a job you love, an amazing guy who has a horrible crush on you.”

  Faith cheeks heated for the umpteenth time that day. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d blushed, let alone multiple times in one afternoon. “You know what I mean,” she mumbled.

  He nodded, his smile fading a watt or two. “I do, and yeah, I have a decent stash squirrelled away. Nothing like Naomi, of course, but enough that I wouldn’t have to work for a few years if I didn’t want to.”

  Faith blinked. “Wow. If I took off for a few weeks I’d be strapped.”

  “But you do good work,” Mick said. “Work that’s a lot more important than something you’re going to download onto your phone and mess with for ten minutes a day.” He leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. “The only reason I said anything is that I don’t want you to stress about money. I’ve got the money, and as soon as you get some vacation days built up, I can afford for us to go somewhere nice.”

  Faith’s eyes dropped to the ground as her brows drew together.

  “What’s wrong?” Mick asked.

  “I don’t know,” Faith said honestly. “I mean, an offer like that would have been my mother’s dream come true, but…”

  “Maybe that’s why you don’t like it?” Mick finished for her, pushing on when Faith shrugged. “Well, it’s obvious to me you’re nothing like your mom, and letting me pay for things once in a while isn’t going to change that. You’ll still be the same strong, independent person. You’ll just be a strong, independent person with a boyfriend who can afford to buy you a nice steak dinner.”

  At the mention of steak, Faith’s stomach growled again, making both of them laugh, banishing the awkward moment.

  “Why don’t we head to the restaurant and see if they can take us a few minutes early?” Mick asked.

  “Sounds perfect,” Faith said, taking his hand as they turned toward Royal Street.

  On their way out of the square, Faith glanced to her left to see the fortuneteller greeting her husband—a giant of a man who leaned down to give his wife a sweet kiss before tucking her trunk beneath his thick arm. The two were obviously still in love, so in love the air around them seemed to glow a little brighter than in the rest of the square.

  Faith had no experience with love that lasted for more than a year—let alone thirty of them—but when she turned to find Mick smiling down at her, she couldn’t deny a part of her was starting to wonder if happily ever after might be a real thing, after all.

  Chapter Ten

  By the time they drove into Summerville on Sunday, Mick had been with Faith for three days—and nights—straight.

  If she had been anyone else, he would have been craving some alone time.

  Even when he was head over heels for Bridget and dying to spend every waking moment with her, he’d had to take an occasional break from the constant togetherness. Mick played a good extrovert, but in reality he was an introvert, a person who treasured activities that allowed him to work quietly, at his own speed. He needed that time by himself to recharge.

  But regret was the only emotion he felt when he and Faith pulled up in front of the bakery Sunday evening just as Melody was flipping the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed.’

  He wasn’t ready to say good-bye. He wanted Faith across the dinner table from him tonight, by his side as he drew up sketches for the remodel he’d be starting tomorrow, and in his arms when he went to bed. In the past two days, he’d grown increasingly addicted to her smile, her laugh, and the feel of her body snuggled against his as they drifted off to sleep. The thought of waking up without her drool on his shoulder made him feel positively depressed.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, laughter in her voice. “You look like someone kicked your cat.”

  “I don’t have a cat,” Mick said, glumly.

  “Well, I do, and I had bett
er go feed and snuggle him before he gets pissy and shreds the couch,” she said, hesitating for a second before adding, “But you could come with me, if you want. We could…hang out, order a pizza for dinner or something.”

  Mick turned to her, feeling like a death sentence had been lifted. “Does this mean you’re inviting me to stay the night? Because if so I can be up to my apartment and back down again in ten minutes with everything I need.”

  “Make it five, and you have a deal,” she said, a grin on her face that made it clear she wasn’t eager to say goodbye, either. “Because I’m starving.”

  “You’re always starving,” Mick teased as he leaned over to give her a swift kiss before reaching for the door. “But I’m starving too. I’ll be right back.”

  He bounded out of the truck, mentally ticking off the things he needed to bring as he headed for the front of the bakery. He reached for his keys, but the door swung open before he could pull them from his backpack, revealing Naomi and Maddie on the other side. Both of them looked fit to burst.

  He was barely inside when the questions started flying.

  “So, how did it go? Did you take any pictures?” Naomi said breathlessly, closing the door behind him, setting the bells overhead to tinkling. “Did you—”

  “Was it beautiful?” Maddie broke in. “Was the food amazing? Did you do the ghost tour of the French Quarter I texted you about?”

  “Did you like the hotel?” Naomi asked. “Did you have an amazing time?”

  Mick smiled and pulled Naomi in for a hug. “Yes, we had a wonderful time. Thank you so much for everything. You’re the best,” he said, before pulling away and heading for the stairs leading up to his apartment.

  “That’s it?” Naomi called after him, outrage clear in her voice. “That’s all the information we get? What about the nitty-gritty!”

  “Yeah,” Maddie agreed. “I need to know every romantic detail.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Mick called down the stairs as he fit his key in the lock. “I’m in a hurry. I’ve got to grab some stuff and get going. Faith’s waiting outside.”