Page 80 of Fairy Godmothers Aren't Cheap

He rubbed at the side of his face. “Not really. I’ve been learning Spanish when I’m here at night. I was going to go to Buenos Aires for a few months.”

“Really? What changed your mind? All the muggings?” Tamara’s mom had given us a run down when Tamara and I had been talking about a trip to South America a couple of years back. Then again, maybe the city was all cleaned up, or Mrs. Madden had misled us about the dangers. Either were possible.

Although, you’d have to be kinda dumb to try and mug James. His shoulders were powerful, and his flat stomach had the strength to back it up. Add in his beefy quads and you knew the guy would come out on top. Plus, he had this don’t-mess-with-me vibe when someone overstepped.

Sexy, sexy, sexy.

“I decided to go to Corsica instead.”

“Really? Why?”

“I found a great deal.” He cleared his throat as though embarrassed. “I go next week.”

Next week. The suddenness of his trip hit me. We were just getting started, and he was leaving?

“How long?” My voice sounded odd.

“Less than a week.”

I nodded, grateful for the shortness of his trip.

At the same time, I also appreciated the breathing room it would give us. We’d been moving fast and it was scaring me a little. Around him I could lose my grip on reality and almost believe in everlasting love.

I looked at him anew. Who knew James had this sort of spontaneity in him? It was as sexy as his uniform.

I gasped, realizing what was on the beautiful French island of Corsica. “Are you going to the excavation site of the ancient Roman tile workshop?”

“The what?”

“It’s nineteen-hundred years old.”

“Oh. I’ll have to check it out.”

“Take lots of pictures for me.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Are you still quitting, then? Since you’re not going away for months?”

“I got the week off, so I’ll quit some other time.”

“What job do you want—if not this one?”

“Not sure yet. But something fun. Still thinking about it.”

He let us into the security room, and I shivered in delight. This was like being allowed down secret rooms at MI6. And the security office lived up to my expectations. There were a few rolling chairs and tons of monitors streaming images from around the museum. Most frames were empty, but the ones by the gift shop and front doors had activity.

“I’m not allowed in here.” I set down my milkshake and perched in a chair, fascinated by all I could see. It was fabulous. I sucked it all up before someone told me I was breaking some sort of privacy law due to not having the proper clearance to spy on people.

James sat in the chair beside me, pointing to one of the screens in front of me. “You watch the gift shop while I watch a few other key areas to make sure people don’t try to stay in here overnight.”

I gasped in glee, hands coming together. “People do that?” Where would they hide? There were so many locked doors. Would they climb over a rope and crouch behind a large display? The mummies were too narrow to hide behind. Maybe the wooly mammoth? There were so few good places to hide! How would they pull it off?

James was the best for letting me in here with him. This was already the funnest part of my week, second to James’s kisses, of course.

He gave me a look. “You’re plotting how you’d get away with it, aren’t you?”

I felt my face heat, and I crossed my arms. “No.” I relented. “Okay, maybe just a little.”

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