I hesitated for a moment, her question hanging in the air between us. “I don’t know,” I finally said, tracing absent patterns on her arm. “I’ve always thought they were more about the person hearing the reading than the person giving it. You know, confirming fears or hopes we don’t admit out loud.”
She tilted her head to study me, her expression unreadable. “But what if it’s more than that? Like... what if it’s a glimpse of something real?”
Her words pulled me back to Mademoiselle Moriarty’s shop. What the woman whispered to me that day still lingered in my mind. “Maybe,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “Or maybe it’s just easier to believe in fate than to admit we’re the ones steering the ship.”
She laughed softly, the sound warm against the stillness of the room. “Spoken like a man who doesn’t want to think too hard about it.”
“Guilty,” I said, drawing her closer. But even as I held her, the thought didn’t let up—that flicker of warning I thought I’d seen in the psychic’s eyes.
A choice, she had said.
And no easy answers.
The air outside the window was still and heavy with the promise of another humid New Orleans night. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of jazz drifted in, as if the city itself were trying to offer comfort. But deep down, I knew the cards had touched something I wasn’t ready to face.
Not yet.
“You wanna know what I believe in?”
“Tell me.”
“I believe in my family. My brothers, you. I believe someday soon we’re gonna be chasin’ three little ones around this bar and they are all gonna look just like you.”
Looking up at me, she smiled. “Wade Montague Crawley, are you a closeted romantic?”
I laughed heartily, moving quickly to pin her under me. Kissing her nose, I whispered, “Why don’ I show you how romantic I can be,Chèr.”
Planning on enjoying my sexy fun time with my woman, I groaned when someone knocked on my door.
“Go away!”
“Can’t do that, boss.”
Grumbling, I scooted off the bed and flung open the door. “Worm, I have a smokin’ hot sexy half nekkid woman in my bed. There is nuttin’ more important than a hot half nekkid woman. We talked about this.”
My brother blinked, then smirked. “Juju had two completely naked women in his bed, boss.”
Narrowing my eyes, I shouted, “Braveheart. Kill Worm!”
“YES!” everyone heard the big fucker shout and stumble around his room before he flung the door open, naked as the day he was born, holding his sword, smiling like a lunatic. “Come ’ere, Wormie.”
Worm screeched like a little bitch and bolted as Donut walked out of his room, scratching his stomach as three women hung off him. Red lips marred his torso and face as one of the women pouted before licking his neck.
“Jesus Christ, Donut,” I snapped. “How many women you got in there?”
Shrugging, he looked at the three women pawing him like a slab of meat, then turned to look back in his room before he smirked. “Jus’ got me one more, but I’m only feedin’ him.”
“Feeding who? What?” Devlyn asked, grinning as she looked over my shoulder. “Did Donut just sayhim?”
Donut smiled, and I quickly pointed at the fucker, shouting, “Don’ ya dare answer that!” just as Thore’s bedroom door opened and the large Irish fucker stepped out.
“Holy Mother of GOD!” Devlyn gasped as I quickly covered her eyes, only to have her slap my hands away.
“Dude!” Donut groaned. “Put that thing away before my girls jump ship.”
Thore rubbed his eyes, clearly unbothered by the spectacle he was creating. “What’s all the fuss about?” he grumbled, scratching his beard before noticing the gawking crowd. “Oh, for feck’s sake. Were ye all born in barns? It’s a body, not a bloody sculpture.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Devlyn muttered under her breath, earning a stifled laugh from Donut, who quickly shielded his girls like a mother hen as one attempted to sneak a peek at Thore, just as the guy in Donut’s room stuck his head out to take a peek.
