“This is a disaster,” he groaned, running his hand through his hair and closing the door.
By the time he turned around, Tom was sitting on one of the floor pillows, patiently waiting as if he actually expected River to read his fortune.
Since he’d rather sit with Tom than with any of the other people in line, River sighed and pulled the second pillow next to the twin bed before sitting.
Tom looked at him expectantly, and River peered into the crystal ball.
“Um. You’ll find great love and meaning within the next year,” he said. Tom was a single widower in his sixties, and he seemed on the lonely side, so River hoped it was true.
“Thanks, River,” Tom said, beaming back at him. “I surely hope so.”
The grin he gave River made him fleetingly grateful he’d been in the tent instead of Josie—the last thing Tom needed was to be told he’d be eviscerated by wolves or would die alone in a vat of his own tears. But the next person who came in was Daniel, who was (understandably) pissed about the whole Blanche thing. He also complained that River didn’t look enough like a fortune-teller, which River waved off, but by the time the fifth person came in, River had tied a sparkly blue scarf around his head out of pure boredom.
When the sixth person knocked, River was about ready to give up. He scrawled a sign on an old sheet of paper from the desk drawer—Closed due to curse—and opened the door ready to post it, but he dropped it when he saw her. Or, more accurately, when she was nearly shoved into him.
Georgie’s light blue dress was soaked with something that smelled like beer, huge pieces of glitter clung to it in places, and she only had on one shoe.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
Her eyes lit up when she saw him, then landed and lingered on the scarf, which he immediately tugged off, his ears burning.
“Nice look, River,” Adalia said with a laugh. “Or should I call you Madam Mysterio?” She stooped to retrieve his sign before shutting the door, so hopefully they wouldn’t be bothered every two minutes by relentless knocking. Turned out the people of Buchanan Brewery were aggressively interested in psychic readings.
“What happened to you?” they asked at mostly the same time.
She laughed, a little nervously he thought, and he took her hand—grateful when she gave it to him—and led her over to the cushions, which he pushed into their original configuration.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said as they sat next to each other, her heat pressed to him. “Hops ate a chocolate bar, and I had to make sure he was okay. I wouldn’t have missed it otherwise. It felt awful not being there.”
Something in her expression loosened at that, like she’d been carrying a weight he’d just eased.
“Is he all right?”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his thumb against her hand. “He’s going to be okay.”
“River.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t handle any of this well. The brewery should be yours. I’m going to sign my part over to you in the morning, and I’ll do everything in my power to convince my sister and brothers to do the same. It’s not right—”
She stopped, as if finally registering he was shaking his head.
“I don’t want that,” he said. “And Beau didn’t want it either. He wanted you and your family to be a part of what he’d made. I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday… I felt blindsided, and I didn’t stop to think about what all of this was doing to you. You were backed into a corner, and instead of offering you a hand, I turned my back on you. Which is something I never, ever want to do again.”
He took her other hand as he said it, and she let him, looking at him with something like wonder. “Georgie, I want to do this with you. All the way. I’ve never in my life felt more fulfilled than working with you. Being with you. And I don’t want to hide what we have.”
She cringed a little at that. “I know. I’m sorry about my brothers. But I’ll take care of it. I promise.”
“You don’t need to worry about that anymore,” he said. “I talked to Jack, and he agreed to back off. And from what I understand, Adalia made a lot of headway with Lee.”
Shock radiated from her. “You did that for me?” A pause. “I feel like this has to be an incredibly vivid dream. Jane Eyre was my favorite book in high school, and you are pretending to be a fortune-teller. Don’t think Adalia’s the only one who noticed that scarf earlier.”
“Oh, there was no pretending,” he said with a chuckle. “I gave readings for five people, and I stuck to Josie’s one-fourth rule. It was brutal for poor Kevin in sales.
“So what happened in Jane Eyre?” he asked, pulling her closer. “I can’t say I’ve ever read it.”
She pursed her lips. “Well, the man Jane loved pretended to be a fortune-teller so he could say things to her he wouldn’t say out in the open.”
“Huh. That’s messed up.”
“Yeah”—she arched her brow—“he had to be careful because his crazy wife was living up in the attic.” She glanced up dramatically.
River huffed a laugh. “And this was your favorite book?” He pulled one of his hands away, but only so he could gesture toward the window. “Don’t worry. All my crazy is out in the open, and if you still want to be with me after seeing all of this…” The donkey wandered by, chewing on some of Aunt Dottie’s flowers, as if to punctuate his point. “…I’m all yours.”
She kissed him then—a soft kiss that quickly turned fierce, and by the time she pulled away she was panting.
“I love you, River.”
The surety with which she said it, the fire in her eyes…he’d never felt happier and fuller than he did in this moment. Than he did with this woman.
“Hey,” he said, running his fingers down the curve of her cheek, “I was going to say it first.” Then he sucked in a breath, bolstering himself for the words he’d never said to a woman before, other than his near brush with Blanche. “I love you, Georgie.”
He kissed her first this time, savoring the taste of her, the closeness, knowing he never wanted to pull away. He tugged Georgie the rest of the way onto his lap, hands on her hips, her curves, any part of her he could touch, and she slid a hand under his shirt, running it across his abs.
He went to take it off, which was when he saw Lurch giving him a thumbs-up from outside the window.
“Um, I think we should probably get out of here,” he said to Georgie, pulling back a little.
Her gaze shot to the window, and she jumped a little in his arms. “Yes, please. Immediately.”
“Should we look for your other shoe?”
She glanced down at her foot and shook her head a little. “No. Let’s not chance it. Maybe Josie will find it.” A side of her mouth ticked up. “She’s good at collecting my clothes.”
He stood up and pulled her up with him, Georgie’s eyes widening as he lifted her into his arms.
“I’m pretty sure there’s probably at least a dozen abandoned crystals on the floor out there,” he explained, “and I don’t want you to hurt your feet.”