The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(26)

“That woman should consider coming up for a breath of air once in a while. Do you know she actually inspected my hands after I washed them?” he said with mock incredulousness.

“What are you doing here?” Sadie asked, regretting how stupid the words sounded as soon as they fell from her lips. It seemed to be the only thing she could find to say to him these days.

“‘Do you mean in a metaphorical sense?”

“I mean in the ‘what are you doing here in this kitchen, serving at church, you pain in the ass’ sense.”

“Watch it, dirty mouth! God might smite you down.”

“If anyone’s going to be doing any smiting, it’ll be me,” Sadie mumbled. She avoided his gaze and instead made quick work of opening the boxes and getting out the pies.

“I volunteered,” Jake said, setting out paper plates. “I came by last week and talked to Pastor Jay. It was nice. We spent an hour catching up. I told him about my mom buying a vacation house in Florida and what Jessie was up to. It’s nice being in a small town again. Where people care.”

“How is Jessie?” Sadie asked with warmth in her voice this time. Jessie, just as much of a spitfire as her brother, and probably even more reckless, had always made Sadie laugh.

“She’s a real estate agent in New York,” he said with pride.

“Damn,” Sadie breathed. “New York? I can’t imagine. I’ve never even left Poppy Meadows.”

“Wait, seriously?” Jake asked with a furrowed brow. “Never?” His body had stilled, his big hands laid flat on the metal counter, his whole countenance focused on Sadie. She swallowed hard.

“I mean, I’ve been a couple counties over.” She shrugged, trying to make it look casual. “But I love it here. I’ve never felt the need to leave.” She gave him a pointed look.

“Poppy Meadows is great, but there’s a whole world out there, Sade,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, you would say that,” she snorted.

“We’re not all like the great Sadie Revelare. Some of us have to figure out what we want,” he said.

She thought about telling him that knowing what you want is its own kind of curse. Because when else are you so aware that you’re never going to get it? Not knowing meant possibility and dreaming and hopes. Instead, she looked away from those piercing eyes.

“Dish,” she ordered, sliding the cut pie toward him. “And don’t mangle it, or I’ll be forced to harm you.”

“Word around town is that your food has magic in it. What’s the secret? Drugs?”

“It’s a superpower. I’d tell you, but it comes from within and is derived from great wisdom and maturity. Obviously, you’re not there yet.”

“Obviously. Still a bit rough around the edges. Must be why we get along so well,” he said, leaning against the counter and staring at her with eyes that held an invitation, a dare. It was always the verbal sparring with him.

She could smell a heady mixture of shaving cream and cologne, and was torn between running out of the kitchen and getting as close to that scent as possible. It was woodsy and sweet and …

Maybe she could give in. Just once. That’s it. And then she could go back to hating him. Not love. But a meeting of needs. That would be safe enough.

Without thinking, her body took a step toward him, as though it couldn’t stand not to. The space around them shrunk, pressing in on all sides. His breathing turned heavy, and when she looked up to his face, his eyes had darkened to a stormy sea.

He stood perfectly still.

Warmth spread from her cheeks down to her neck, and she caught herself leaning closer without meaning to—when suddenly all of the burners on the stove behind them ignited at once.

Jake jumped back and yelped in surprise.

“What in the world?” he cried, automatically pushing Sadie behind him and shielding her with his outstretched arms. “This place must not be up to code. That’s a fire hazard!”

Sadie laughed shakily and stepped around him. Her hands trembled as she turned the knobs, and the flames went out.

“I’ll just start taking these out,” he said, his brows furrowed and eyes darting around as though other fires might spring up at any moment. Sadie had always thought Jake might have an inkling of her abilities, but either he hadn’t seen them in action long enough, or maybe she credited him with more awareness than he deserved.

She took a deep, steadying breath after he left. Her body’s memory wanted to lean into him a lot further than she had. Her lips wanted to trace his jawline with lingering kisses as they had when she was a teenager. But Jake broke promises like cinnamon sticks. It was, she realized, perhaps too dangerous of a gamble. Even if her curse wasn’t in play. Even if Gigi wasn’t sick. It would be too much of a risk.

She made a beeline for Raquel, who was speaking with Alice Grossman, an elderly woman who pretended she was practically deaf but actually had the hearing of a bat.

“You have to sit with me,” Sadie hissed, grabbing Raquel’s arm.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Grossman,” Raquel said at a deafening volume, and then steered Sadie away. “My very rude friend is in need of assistance.”

“God bless you,” Mrs. Grossman shouted, nodding like a bobblehead on a bumpy road.