“It was just a dream,” Willow whispered into the dark.“A love so all-encompassing can’t exist.Not in real life.”She sighed softly, ignoring the single tear that slipped down her cheek.“At least, not in my life.”
But as her eyes grew heavy, her mind betrayed her.She could still feel the echo of those voices, brushing over her skin like phantom fingertips.The idea of being fated to someone—of belonging, utterly and completely—was both terrifying and intoxicating.She wanted to laugh it off, but deep down, a part of her ached for it.A part of her that had always been lonely, always convinced she was somehow outside the circle of love everyone else seemed to find.
The purr beside her grew louder, vibrating against her ribs.Willow let her eyes drift shut, but her mind remained restless.The voices echoed faintly, weaving into the rhythm of her pulse.She told herself it meant nothing.But deep down, a shiver of longing whispered otherwise.
Chapter Two
“Morning, Willow!”
Willow turned with a warm smile for the man behind the packages counter at the post office.
“Morning, Ernest.How are you today?”
Ernest winked at her.“Not too bad for an old man.I even managed to wake up this morning, which is always a step in the right direction when you get to the ripe old age of seventy-three.”
Willow walked over to his counter with an arm full of packages.“Well, I still say you don’t look a day over sixty.”
A small flush of color rose in Ernest’s face.“Now, you stop trying to turn my head.A young woman as good looking as you shouldn’t be wasting all her charm on an old fossil like me.Now, what have we got today?”
For the next few minutes, the two of them went through the eight packages Willow had brought to send, figuring out the fastest but most cost-effective method of shipping.Willow sold essential oils and handmade products online.She had always been fascinated by the natural healing properties of oils and herbs and once she realized she could make a living from it, she’d resigned from her job at the University Library to start her own business.Some days it was exhausting, but most days—days like today—she loved every second of it.
“That should get everything here on its way,” Ernest said as he placed the final sticker on her packages before carefully loading them onto the trolley behind him.“Now, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”
“My book club is meeting tonight and I can’t wait!”Willow’s eyes lit up.She had spent most of her childhood with her nose buried in a book.The worlds she read about and the way her imagination embraced the characters within them always seemed brighter, richer, safer than her own reality.She told Ernest about the novel she’d read for the meeting and promised to give him a full rundown when she came in next week.Ernest loved hearing about the books, even if he never joined the group himself.She suspected it was his way of being part of her life and she treasured the quiet kindness of it.
With a wave, she stepped out of the post office, packages sent, heart a little lighter.The air was brisk, carrying the scent of roasted coffee from the café on the corner and the faint bite of rain on the way.She had only gone a few steps when she heard someone calling her name.The voice was familiar enough to make her stomach dip and a tendril of dread unfurled within her.
She pasted on a polite smile.“Hi, Marcus.”
Marcus Thornton, another member of her book club, strode toward her with too much confidence.From the first time she’d met him, Willow had never felt comfortable around Marcus.She couldn’t pinpoint why—it wasn’t any one thing, but an accumulation.The way his eyes lingered on her too long.The way his smiles never reached his eyes.The way his presence seemed to take up all the oxygen in a room.It was just...wrong.
“Hey!”Marcus didn’t stop until he’d stepped in close, forcing Willow to retreat a step.He always did that—invading her space like it was his right.The flicker of smug satisfaction in his eyes when she moved back only confirmed that he enjoyed it.
“You been mailing out more of those potions and spells you make?”His tone was jovial, but his sarcasm and condescension was evident.
“Why, yes, I have.I love that my job allows me the freedom to be my own boss.”Willow deliberately kept her tone bright, knowing Marcus despised his own boss and constantly bragged about being the smartest man in the room.“Are you heading back to work now?I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.From what you said, she can be a real slave driver.”
