To Tame a Wild Firefighter (Red Hot Reunions Book 2) (13 page)

“Well, it’s the word I’d use,” he said. “Along with funny and so damned sexy I can’t seem to stop thinking about your pink panties.”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t going to be one of those gross couples, are we?”

“I don’t think so. But even if we are, I don’t care.” Mick’s smile widened, and his blue eyes flashed in that way that made Faith’s heart do a little flip inside her chest. “Have I mentioned that I really like the word ‘couple’ when it applies to you and me?”

“Me too,” Faith said, moments before her stomach growled loud enough to be heard over the burst of applause from the crowd gathered around the jugglers a dozen feet away.

“Are you going to make it to dinner?” Mick asked with a laugh, threading his fingers through hers as they started across the square, taking in the elegant blue spires of St. Patrick’s cathedral reaching toward the blushing sky.

The sun was setting later than it had been earlier in the winter, but it was still going to be dark long before they arrived at the restaurant for their seven o’clock reservation.

Not only had Naomi booked the hotel room for two nights, she had also made reservations at her favorite New Orleans restaurant,
The House of the Four Brothers
. The concierge had slipped an envelope under their door while they were asleep, and inside were the details of their dinner reservation, as well as a gift certificate for a nearby clothing store. Naomi had thought of everything, even their clothing—or lack thereof.

At first, Faith had balked at the idea of accepting any more of Naomi’s generosity, but Mick had insisted that Naomi would be insulted if they rejected her gift. So, with reluctance, Faith had allowed herself to be coaxed into a black sundress from the store’s sale section, while Mick selected a blue button-down that made his eyes look even more stunning than usual. They’d asked the shopkeeper to refund the rest of the money to Naomi’s card.

Faith still felt weird about letting someone she barely knew spend so much money on her, but Mick’s comment about letting Naomi do what made her happy made sense. Faith knew if she were rich she would enjoy spending money on the people she loved more than anything else. She’d rather see a smile on the face of someone she cared about than drive a fancy car or own a mansion.

Besides, it sounded like Naomi could afford to do both, so who was Faith to refuse her the pleasure of spending her money on her little brother and his friend?

His
girlfriend
.

She was Mick’s
girlfriend
—it was still so unbelievable she felt like pinching herself every time his fingers tightened around hers.

“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?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Faith

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 inside.

“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.