The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(105)

“Sage, why don’t we get back to the booth; I think these two need a moment,” Florence said.

Raquel gave Sadie a look that said, “You okay?” When Sadie nodded subtly, she dipped her head in acknowledgment and said, “Well! Look at that! Kitten calendars!” and walked away, leaving Sadie and Jake swimming in a bubble of silence as the Festival moved around them.

“Come over here,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her behind a tent stall. The light was darker there. Pressing in on them. An invitation for secrets and twined fingers.

“Thanks for the pie,” he finally said.

She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.

“I wanted to tell you … Bethany faked the pregnancy,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she answered, barely breathing.

“Why am I not surprised?” His low laugh rumbled in his chest, and Sadie felt it in her fingertips. “I would have come to see you sooner, but I needed time to process. I broke it off with her. She’s staying at the Elmwood and leaving tomorrow. I’m having her things packed up and sent to her.”

“Oh.” Sadie could barely talk through the small space that separated them now.

“Look, I was mad at her at first. I was pissed. But I mourn the loss of”—he paused, the words seeming to stick in his throat—“the idea that I could have been a father, not the relationship. You have to know that. I need you to know that. But I can honestly say I wish her the best. Just not with me. It’s always been you.”

They were the words she’d always wanted to hear, so why didn’t she feel better? Because there was still more truth to tell.

“Listen, I need to tell you something.” And she told him everything: she knew he’d had an inkling about the magic, though he didn’t know the full extent of it. Now he did. She told him about the pie and her curse of four heartbreaks.

“Sadie—” he started, then stopped, searching for words.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. But … I thought I should tell you. You deserved to know the truth.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “The truth,” he said. “You want to know the truth?”

She nodded, her heart in her throat.

“I fell in love with you ten years ago. And I could never love anybody else the way I love you. I’ve been stupid and angry and broken. And I want, more than anything, for you to forgive me.” He handed her the bag he’d been carrying.

Confused, Sadie looked inside. There, like little jewels of hope stacked on top of one another, was box after box of collector spoons.

“The first time I bought one, it made me feel closer to you. And then, I think I started traveling more just to get more spoons for you. I’d go to every little shop until I found the perfect one. It’s pathetic, I know, but it’s always been you.”

She looked up at him, barely able to breathe. She didn’t answer at first. Instead, she approached him gently and ran a hand through his hair. Down his neck. Tension crackled at her fingertips.

“I forgive you,” she said, and before the words were out of her mouth, he’d pulled her hard against him, his fingers digging into her hips, anchoring her to him. His forehead leaned against hers, his chest rising rapidly.

“Jake,” she whispered.

“Sadie,” he said, and her name was a prayer as he kissed the spot below her ear. “Sadie.” This time it was an offering as he kissed her neck. “Sade.” A plea. And then his lips found hers.

Sadie shivered, her fingers threading through his hair, every delicious inch of him pressed against her. The kiss was soft, like coming home. But it wasn’t enough. Not after a decade of waiting. She pressed into him and gasped as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers with a new urgency. All she could think was more.

Her hands clawed under his shirt, needing to feel him. He let out a rough breath as her fingernails trailed his stomach just above the waistband of his jeans. Everywhere they touched her body warmed like molten sugar. And then without warning he scooped her up by the waist and walked forward, balancing her back against the brick wall. Her legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed to bring him even closer. The brick biting delectably into her back.

They were breathing each other in. Inhaling each other’s scents. Committing them to memory. His teeth catching her bottom lip in a bite that had her groaning into him. It was a slow, maddening slide, growing more frenzied by the second. Her blood thrummed. Her skin crackled. Each stroke of his tongue against hers was a word. A war. An invitation. Come closer, it said. I dare you. Let me show you what we’ve been missing. And he did, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs. A delicious heat pooling in her core, Sadie inhaled sharply as his hands, calloused and rough, the hands she’d dreamed of too many times, made their way under her shirt and up her waist. She arched into him and he groaned, breaking away to pay tribute to her neck with a kiss. Lick. Bite. Repeat.

There was a sudden yelp from a child nearby. It was enough to pull them both out of the kiss, though they didn’t pull away.

“I think we may be brought up on charges of public indecency,” he murmured against her skin.

“I don’t care,” she breathed. “I never want to stop. I should have forgiven you ages ago if it meant this.”

“Wait until we have a bed. I’ll show you just how grateful I am for your forgiveness,” he said against her lips. “I don’t want to put you down.”