Ryker: It’s actually nice outside today.
I realized I hadn’t messaged him back this morning after I’d gotten up. It was clear we’d both had the same idea to get out today.
Odette: It really is.
I sent an emoji of the sun and then put my phone away for now.
My eyes closed, and I pointed my face to the sky. I had stopped in the middle of the walkway, so I took a deep breath and basked in the warmth before making my way down the line of open tents. They were filled with pastries, honey, herbs, and an assortment of plants.
I loved coming to the farmer’s market. It was like a breath of fresh air seeing the local goods and seeing the town out supporting everyone. People watching was my favorite pastime, as well. Seeing older couples out having picnics in their park chairs they brought from home, or students from high school and local colleges coming to take their social media photos and videos. It was a wide variety of people who came here on the weekends, and it made my heart full and left me room for wanting to write.
There was an open park bench that I snagged and whipped out my notebook, scratching down the first thought that came to mind for this new book. Plotting and laying out the next steps for these characters. They were not like any characters I’d written before. They came so effortlessly when I wrote about them, almost like they were real people inside me, just waiting to tell their story.
When I’d plotted a few more chapters out, I turned to the back of my notebook and proceeded to write out poetry. It was one of my favorite types of writing, and I only did it when I had inspiration. My favorite way to write it was handwritten. There was something about seeing the words you were writing about someone else come straight from your hand to the pen. Words of flowy language graced the page, speaking of enchanted nights and men in masks.
Ryker wasn’t only filling my fictional characters; he was fueling my non-fiction writing as well. Every crevice of my inspiration was coming from a man that I’d spent no more than an hour with.
I closed my notebook, packing everything back up into my bag before getting up to go see a few other booths. I needed some new spices for my apothecary. While I’d been stationed at home for the last few weeks, I was cooking and baking constantly and needed some new supplies.
The spice vendor at the farmer’s market was always amazing. Fresh herbs and spices that she put into small bags for me to take home. I could buy as little or as much as I needed. And the best part was I was able not only to buy for baking, but for my practice as well. She always stocked me up on bay leaves like I was running out.
Which I was.
“Hello, beautiful,” Emmie came around, giving me a hug before making her way to the normal jars I purchase from. “Are we getting the usual today?”
“Yes, please.” I took a glance at some of the more seasonal spices that she had. “I’d also like to get a few extra sticks of cinnamon and double the cloves.”
Her head whipped around at my request, eyes squinting at me. She practiced witchcraft just as I did. She could immediately sense that I needed more than just cooking supplies today.
“And what do you need to be setting up so much protection for?” Her eyebrow raised at me, and she stopped pouring the Himalayan salt into my bag for me.
“Nothing,” I lied, knowing that Emmie could read me all too well. I didn’t know how to tell her I needed to protect my heart because it was seemingly running away from me, and I needed to get it back and under control.
“Ah,” she clicked her tongue and continued. “A boy.”
“I wouldn’t say a boy.” Turning away, I walked to the other side of her tent, looking at a few of the plants she had hanging. I could never keep plants to save my life—I killed air plants that were supposed to be death-proof.
“Then a man.” Her voice wasn’t judging, but it had an edge to it, and I knew she was about to give me an earful. “I suggest coriander, then.”
I looked over at her with a confused look.
“Emmie, I’m trying to protect my heart, not manifest him by my side.” Cinnamon working with cloves was a great combination to protect one’s heart and self, but coriander with cinnamon? That was a spell for manifesting love itself.
“Shush,” she shooed me away as she went for the coriander, putting a good helping into a bag for me. “You’ve been single too long, honey. If there is a man you’re finally so worried about that you’re seeking magical help, then I’d say give it a go.”
I continued to watch her put all the herbs and spices in bags and pouches before pulling them all together for me.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” She turned her tablet screen to me to see how much all the items were before I handed her cash to pay. “A broken heart?”
I grabbed my bag, not waiting for change, and turned to walk away.
“That’s exactly what could happen.”
I said to her with my back turned and left the tent. I stood outside of it for just a second with my eyes closed again and took a deep breath before turning to continue my journey through the sea of tents, before slamming into a body that was heading in the opposite direction.
My tea, which I still had in one hand, smashed between us, seeping onto my clothes and theirs. Their hands wrapped around my thick biceps, steadying not just me, but them too, from toppling over.
“I’m so sorry.” I was trying to wipe at their shirt, thinking somehow the tea would magically disappear. “I was not paying attention, and I’m such a klutz.”
