Ezra mock-scowled at me before heading back to the boot of my car to drag out the trestle tables. I snorted, making for the back door, where my signage, cash tin, and stock were all stashed in plastic tubs. I was a pro at markets by now. I’d done fifty bajillion of them.

One day, I even hoped to make a decent living out of it.

Luci dooked at me from her cage in the front.

“I know, Lulu. Won’t be long, and then you can get out and be the centre of attention.”

I backed out of the car with a stack of tubs just as three things happened.

I smacked my head, letting out an ungodly squawk.

I felt the prickle of being watched and a flash of heat.

The wind gusted, whipping my flirty swing mini skirt (the electric blue one with all the My Little Ponies cavorting on it) up around my waist.

“Are you serious right now?” I shouted, turning precariously, wincing through my pain, my cheeks burning because whoever was watching me had just gotten an absolute eyeful of my cheeky red lace panties. The ones that were supposed to be my lucky pair.

“Some luck you’re giving me today!” I grumped, peering around through watering eyes, hoping it wasn’t anyone important who’d just copped an eyeful of my bottom.

“Hey, Jemma!”

I turned, finding Humphrey the potter standing beside his car, tugging his gazebo out. He was smirking, his infuriatingly cute hazel eyes glinting. I could see why Ezra was so infatuated with him.

“Did you just watch me flash the entire lakefront, by any chance?” I narrowed my eyes at him over my tub stack.

“Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” His feigned innocence and his cheeky wink confirmed his guilt.

“Oh my God! Please tell me you didn’t see anything of note!”

Humphrey waggled his eyebrows. “Red is really your colour, Pinkie Pie.”

“You better be nice to me, Humphrey Potter, or whatever your last name is,” I hissed. “My best friend is a certified hottie, and the sweetest man on the planet, and he’s got a monstrous crush on you, but I’ll tell him you’re a giant lech, and even your magic moulding hands won’t save you then.”

Humphrey looked at me like I was completely insane. And then his eyes drifted over my right shoulder. I winced, turning slowly.

Ezra’s cheeks were redder than his hair. By quite a margin.

“Oh God. You heard that, didn’t you?”

His eyes darted to Humphrey and then back to me. “I know verbal filtering is a tough concept for you, Jemma, but … really?” he mumbled.

I opened my mouth to apologise, but he’d turned and walked stiffly away.