Page 56 of Divine Temptations

That spark was still there.

And I didn’t know what it meant.

But I wanted to find out.

Julian took a slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving mine.

I was trying very hard not to squirm under the weight of that gaze, but damn—he was inspecting me like I was something to be unwrapped, dissected, or devoured. I couldn’t tell which, but all three options made heat curl low in my belly.

I crossed one leg over the other, leaning a little toward him, my arm brushing the bar. “So,” I said, voice softer than usual, “what brings a stranger like you to Riverbend? Lost? Or just chasing ghosts?”

He tilted his head slightly, lips twitching at the corner. “I chase stories,” he said. “And Riverbend’s got one hell of a reputation.”

“You don’t say,” I murmured, my gaze dipping to his lips for a moment longer than necessary.

Julian caught it. I know he caught it. His smile deepened, slow, cocky, and sharp.

“I do say,” he said, resting one elbow on the bar. His jacket opened a little, revealing a worn T-shirt that hugged his chest in all the right ways. “Especially about you.”

I arched a brow. “Me?”

He shrugged, eyes trailing from my mouth to my chest, pausing just below my sternum. His gaze wasn’t shy. It was deliberate. Measuring. Like he was sizing up how I’d react if he touched me.

“I mean, Jude Brooks, the miracle man. Touches hands, heals the sick, makes grandmas weep. You’re either the real deal… or one hell of a showman.”

I let out a breath that was half amusement, half challenge. “Is that why you came? To decide which?”

“Something like that.”

We stared at each other, locked in a dance neither of us quite knew the steps to, but were damn sure we wanted to learn.

From behind the bar, Percy was still polishing the same glass. I caught his smirk reflected in the mirror behind the liquor bottles and rolled my eyes.

Julian glanced his way. “Is your bartender always this nosy?”

“Only when he smells sex in the air,” I muttered.

Percy didn’t even flinch. “I live in this town. What else do I have to do but observe the mating rituals of the spiritually inclined?”

Julian let out a short laugh. It was rough, genuine, and for some reason, it made my chest ache.

I wanted to ask him a hundred questions. Where he was from. What he believed in. What kind of man made him blush, or moan, or come undone?

Instead, Julian asked, “So what is it, really? Cosmic Grace Ministries? Some kind of church?”

I sighed, letting my fingers drag along the rim of my glass. “It’s not a church,” I said carefully. “It’s a space. For healing and connection. For letting go.”

He watched me as if I’d just spoken in tongues.

“I host healing circles,” I added, trying to ease the moment. “Meditation, storytelling, sometimes singing. Tonight’s one of those nights, actually. Full moon energy and all that.”

He didn’t laugh. Just tilted his head again, studying me like I was a page he couldn’t quite read.

“Do you give frequent flyer miles for miracles?” Julian asked, both him and Percy smirked, and I said nothing. A moment later he spoke again.

“You inviting me?”

My throat tightened.