Page 80 of Divine Temptations

I blinked at her. “What are you—? How—?”

“You don’t get to be this mysterious and smug,” Percy muttered, wiping down the bar with more aggression than necessary. “Jude’s about three seconds from flipping a stool.”

“I am not flipping a stool,” I muttered, even though my hands were clenched and I could feel my ears turning red. “I just… I don’t understand why you’d say that.”

Zephyr didn’t answer. She calmly pulled out her phone, tapped around for a second, and then turned the screen to face me.

There, glowing in the light of the bar, was an online reservation confirmation. Riverbend Inn. One guest. Two nights.Julian Reed.Arrival date:tomorrow.

My mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Percy leaned in, squinting. “Well, hell.”

I stared at the screen as if it might vanish if I blinked too hard. “You knew this,” I said slowly, voice thick with disbelief. “You knew this the entire time!”

Zephyr just gave me that serene, smug smile again—the one that said I read the stars and your Google Calendar.

I covered my mouth with both hands and let out a weird, strangled giggle.

“Wow,” I said, sitting back so fast my stool creaked. “Okay. That’s… that’s real. That’s not a card or a sign or some damn moonbeam dream. That’s his actual name. On an actual reservation.”

“You’re blushing,” Percy said with a smirk.

“I am not!” I touched my cheek. Shit. I was. My skin felt like a stove burner.

Another giggle escaped before I could stop it. I suddenly felt seventeen again. Like someone had passed me a folded-up note in class that said Do you like me? Check yes or no.

“What the hell,” I said, laughing now. “Why do I feel like I just got asked to the prom?”

Zephyr stood and gathered her things with the air of someone who had successfully completed a spiritual side quest. “Come on, sweet boy. Let’s get you home before you float away on giggles and brown liquor.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, though I nearly tripped standing up.

“Mmhm.” She reached out and gently took my elbow. “You can pay Percy and thank me in the morning.”

I tossed some cash on the bar, still dazed, still weirdly light. My heart was hammering, not with fear exactly, but with something restless. Hopeful. Terrified.

As Zephyr led me out into the warm night air, the clink of wind chimes and muffled laughter trailing behind us, one thought repeated in my head like a chant:

What the hell am I going to say to him when he shows up?

Chapter Twelve

Julian

The rental car smelled of disappointment and stale Marlboro Reds.

I cracked the window and let the Virginia humidity slap me in the face. It was either that or I’d gag on the cocktail of air freshener and decades-old cigarette funk that clung to the upholstery like a bitter ex who just wouldn’t let go. The A/C wheezed in protest every time I asked it to do its actual job, and the radio had one speaker that only played static unless I smacked the dash at just the right angle.

So yeah, glamour wasn’t the word.

But it was cheap. And cheap was all I could afford after Claudia cut the check. Her idea of a generous budget didn’t quite cover investigative travel and my caffeine addiction, so the Prius-that-time-forgot it was.

I gripped the wheel tighter as Riverbend crested into view. The knot in my gut had been tightening with every mile. I told myself it was because I was here on a job—because I was going to expose Jude Brooks for the glitter-drenched, chakra-humping fraud he was—but that wasn’t the entire story.

Not even close.

I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. My head said one thing—destroy the illusion, break the story, get the clicks. But the rest of me? The rest of me was a jumble of chaotic thoughts. Why? Because Jude Brooks wasn’t just a subject. He wasn’t just content.