Page 4 of With This Wish

My eyes wander over to the clock on the screen of the point-of-sale system and I see that I only have about two hours until closing. After that, it will be a quick wardrobe change and I’ll be off to the festival. The customers have dwindled the later it gets, most people headed out to get ready for the lighting ceremony. With nothing to occupy my mind, I think about what my evening will be like, and the nerves settle in. My fingers fidget with the basket of woven bracelets on the counter as I try to calm the rattling feeling in my body, a combination of excitement and anxiety thrumming through me as I wait to attend the festival solo for the first time ever. My eyes blink away the moisture that threatens to fall at the thought of my parents not being there, and I touch the charm that rests on the chain around my neck to help center me. It’s a silver valknut, or three interlocked triangles that represent family, and was something my father always wore around his neck up until the day he died. My finger traces the lines of the charm, letting the cool metal ground me as I take a few deep breaths. Just because they won’t be there, doesn’t mean they won’t be there, I remind myself. No matter where I go, I carry them with me, and it’s that thought I need to hold onto and find comfort in tonight.

Now that I’m feeling a little better, I start to tidy up behind the counter in anticipation of closing soon. Suddenly the bell above the shop door rings, drawing my attention to the front of the store. Putting on my best customer service smile, I look up to greet the customer, only for the words to get caught in my throat. The man stepping inside has to be the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes on. He’s easily more than half a foot taller than my five foot six inches, and he has the most gorgeous auburn curls that fall to the nape of his neck. With a strong hand, he sweeps his hair back out of his face and I’m staring at chiseled features and a cleft chin resting in a strong jaw. He meanders around the store, picking up items here and there, inspecting them for a moment before placing them back gently. His obvious respect for the items is a nice change. Some people come in here like a bull in a china shop, but not this guy.

There is something vaguely familiar about him, but I can’t place it. It’s like I know him, or maybe I’ve just seen him somewhere before. Either way, he has this air about him that has me studying his movements, weirdly cataloging every detail. He glances around the shop for a moment, and when his gaze finally meets mine, I see a set of blue eyes a few shades darker than my own. Emotions I haven’t felt in a long time clog my throat, so I swallow thickly, trying to find my voice.

“W-welcome to Hodgepodge,” I say dumbly.

Usually I have a lot more pep in my greetings, but I’m still a little awestruck. Instant attraction to a man isn’t something that normally happens to me, but there is something about this guy that’s different, and it’s not just his looks. When I look at him, I see a sense of stability, of safety, of permanence—all the things I’ve been missing the last two years. The stranger not only ticks all my boxes physically, but he seems to carry himself in a way that calls to me on some deeper level. My body feels grounded while my soul feels like it’s about to take flight. If it weren’t for the counter separating us, I can’t be sure I wouldn’t walk up and make a fool of myself by wrapping my arms around his neck and trying to kiss him.

The man’s brow raises at my words and he smiles, his rosy lips pulling up at the corners. “Thank you,” he says, wandering closer. I give him a once-over as he walks, taking note of the Washington State hoodie and formfitting jeans that hug his obviously athletic frame. The outfit is finished off with a pair of broken-in hiking boots, giving me a hint of at least one hobby. So, he’s casual and outdoorsy, just my type. His head cocks to the side as his gaze narrows, his eyes filled with curiosity and mirth. “Do … do I know you?” he asks. A sigh of relief rushes from my lungs at knowing that I’m not going crazy because whatever I’m feeling, he seems to be feeling it too. “Never mind,” he says quietly, dipping his head for a moment. “I think I would remember someone like you.” My brows raise and my smile widens, but he keeps talking, probably trying to avoid any awkwardness. “What type of shop is this exactly?” His head spins around the store once again before he looks back at me.

Needing to get closer to this strangely familiar man, I step out from behind the counter, happy to have something to talk about to distract from the crazy feelings I’ve having about a man I just met. Well, technically, we haven’t met yet as I don’t even know his name, but it feels like I’ve known him for years. His kind eyes and warm smile are so familiar, even though I know for a fact I’ve never seen him before in my life. It’s like my soul recognizes something in him that I can’t help but feel drawn to.

“Oh, we’re an artisan collective,” I tell him. After clocking his furrowed brow, I go into a bit more detail. “We act as a storefront for various artisans in the area. We also sell some pieces of furniture, some new and some refurbished to be like new.”

He nods slowly, glancing around the shop once more before settling his eyes back on me. “And that’s profitable?”

My eyes raise, slightly taken aback by the question. It’s not out of line, but not something most people ask. That must show on my expression because the man quickly raises his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I work in business consulting, so I was just curious.”

His words shake me out of my stupor and for some reason, I feel strongly compelled to put his mind at ease and let him know I’m not offended. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” I tell him, lightly touching his arm. Even through his sweatshirt I can feel the warmth of his body. When he looks down at it, I remove my hand quickly. Don’t be weird, Maya. “No harm in being curious.” Wandering to the side to point out some of the stools Carter made, I try to get back to the conversation when really all I want to do is touch him again. “It is profitable. Obviously, we make the most money from things we create ourselves, but we earn enough commission from the other artisans to get by. We also have an online store and do a fair amount of business through that. I won’t be buying a yacht anytime soon, so I guess profitable is in the eye of the beholder.”

He chuckles lightly, the low sound bringing another smile to my face. “I suppose that’s true,” he admits, running his thick fingers over the smooth dark finish on the wooden barstool. “This is nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” I beam with pride at my brother’s excellent work. “Carter creates most of the original furniture pieces as well as some of the wood décor. This is one of his.” Most of the furniture is his with how much he’s thrown himself into his work the last two years, but this man doesn’t need to know my whole life story, as much as I am compelled to tell it to him.

“Amazing,” he breathes out, still running his hand along the wood. His eyes glance up to mine, looking a little dimmer than before. “Your husband is very skilled.”

I bark a laugh, and shake my head. “Um, no husband. Carter is my brother, but I will pass along the compliment.” I think I see his mouth twitch in the corners with the hint of a smile at knowing I’m not married. Is it possible this man is as interested in me? “Were you interested in anything?”

“Hmm?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine again and causing my heart to skip a beat. His eyes are brighter again, as blue as the depths of the ocean and I want to drown in them.

“Were you interested in anything in the store?” I ask again, subtly inching closer to him. I’m not being very specific or obvious, but it’s been quite a long time since I dated or even flirted with a guy, so I’m not exactly on top of my game here.

“Oh,” he says, chuckling lightly and tucking a rogue strand of hair behind his ear. “Probably not at the moment. I’m kind of just walking around town for a bit before I get back on the road. That’s the plan anyway.” The tone of his voice when he talks about leaving is sad, and it matches how I feel now that I know he won’t be sticking around much longer.

I nod. With the Washington State hoodie, there was a fair chance he was a tourist, so no need to get my hopes up for anything more than a polite interaction. “Well, there are a lot of really great stores in the area and tonight is the holiday lighting festival. It’s pretty magical if you decide to stick around for it.”

“I believe it,” he says with a smile. “There’s a lot about this place that seems kind of magical, honestly.”

“There can be,” I say wistfully, remembering that despite the sadness of my recent past, overall, my life has been amazing. “Well, thank you for browsing and I hope you find whatever you’re looking for.”

He nods and steps back toward the door, his movements seemingly hesitant. “Thanks. So do I,” he tells me. With one final nod, he’s out the door and probably out of my life for good. It’s a shame too. It might seem silly, and maybe it’s because my parents would talk about love at first sight, but for a moment, I seriously thought it had happened to me. There was that instant connection to him that I felt deep down in my bones. It was like my soul recognized something in his or we knew each other in a past life. With a sigh, I go back to straightening up the shop, lamenting the fact that I won’t see him again, but hopeful that the kind of connection I thought I was feeling could exist for real someday.

Chapter Four

Jake

The businesses lining the main street of Starlight Lake have all been wonderful. Every proprietor greeted me with warmth and kindness, promoting other businesses to visit or telling me to attend the lighting festival. This small town must be the friendliest place I have ever been. The mountains look perfect for hiking and the lake would be great for paddle-boarding or kayaking in the summer. Maybe I’ll be able to come back during the warmer months. If I do, I can try out some of the seasonal iced coffees the barista at the local roasters told me about, or attend one of the outdoor summer concerts, or even try mountain-biking for the first time. All of those things sound wonderful, but none as wonderful as being able to see the beautiful owner I met at that first store again. For the hundredth time since leaving the small artisan shop, I’m kicking myself for not getting her name. Realistically, I knew there was no point because I’m leaving and probably won’t be coming back when I’ll be too busy with my new job. It’s not like I don’t get vacation days, but my dad expects you to go above and beyond, and I’ve always delivered on that front. The stunning blonde shop owner has me rethinking that approach, but that’s not part of the plan.

Fuck the plan, the small voice in the back of my head says once again. It’s been getting louder the more I think about the woman who was instantly alluring and strangely also seemed entirely familiar to me, despite the fact I’ve never seen her before. Meeting her previously is something I would have remembered just like I know I’m not likely to ever forget her. Her likeness is seared into my memory and we only interacted for five minutes. Looking at her was like looking at a piece of my past and my future at the same time. It was a little disconcerting, and I tried to dismiss it as her having “one of those faces,” but I’ve never seen a face so beautiful before. Her eyes were so blue and piercing that when she looked at me it felt as if she was staring into my soul, seeing deep down to the real me that I’m still discovering myself. Her ivory skin, rosy lips, and long, sunflower-blonde hair looked like they belonged to a cartoon princess. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if woodland animals flocked to her side just to be near her calming, magical presence.

Magical. There’s that word again. I can’t seem to stop using it, but I have no other way of describing just how otherworldly this whole afternoon has felt. The fact that I’m still walking around downtown despite most of the businesses having closed over an hour ago is testament to just how different today is. I should be back on the road by now, back in Denver. It’s only a three-hour drive from here, yet I can’t bring myself to leave. If I were a believer in the supernatural, I would think I’ve been charmed somehow. My mind knows I should go, but my feet keep me moving toward the town square. Holiday lights aren’t something that have interested me since I was a kid, but for some reason, I keep thinking that I have to see them. Not want to, but have to.

The small area that makes up the town square is packed with people. It’s dimly lit by ambient light from some nearby stores as well as streetlamps that look straight out of a depiction of Dickensian England. I half expect to run into a lamplighter as I make my way through the crowd, but all I see are happy families and couples gathered around enjoying the jubilant music and atmosphere. Everyone looks to be having the time of their life, and even though I’m alone, I find myself smiling along with them.

As I approach the center of the square, the crowd thins slightly and I see a large water fountain. Stacks of brick surround a pool of constantly running water, a rock formation sits in the center and is topped by a copper sculpture of two doves in flight. As I step closer to the water and stare into the reflective liquid, I catch a small glare of the loose change that sits at the bottom.

“It’s a wishing fountain, you know,” a raspy voice says next to me. When I turn, I find a kind-looking older woman smiling at me, her eyes crinkling in the corner and a few gray hairs coming out from under her wool cap. “Make a wish, toss in a coin, and whatever you ask for will come true.”

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