Page 24 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

Each page held two names, and what books had brought them together. “Oh, these are all matches. And their books. Oh, okay, I see, I see. These are like, case notes.” Moira had noted her reasoning behind the pairings on each page, as well as the magick she’d used to help with the match. “And like little love spells. Spells. Oh my God. Actual spells.”

There were things like salting a room to rid it of negative energy, a love knot charm, a love letter written in rose petal ink, a full moon tea and so on.

“Surely this can’t all be real?”

A book fell on the floor by my feet, and I started. Happy I’d returned my wine to the windowsill, I glared at the empty air around me.

“Enough with the book throwing. You’re going to knock me unconscious one day.” It wasn’t lost on me that I was speaking to air…possibly a ghost.Interesting that I thought my life was bland only a week ago.

Bending forward I peered at the title of the book with a cute rom-com couple on the front. “Believe in Love. Right, catchy title. And I get it. Okay, loud and clear. Just no more book throwing. Please.”

I had no idea if it was Moira who occupied the bookshop or if it was the magick doing this, but the last thing I needed was a concussion by way of overzealous magick tossing books at my head.

Even as I thought it, I bit back a small squeal of delight.

Magick.

Seriously. How freaking cool was that? I mean, I didn’t actually know the first thing about magick, but I’d certainly read a lot of books with magick in them, so I mean, did that make me qualified? Somewhat qualified? At the very least, I wasn’t horrified by this development.

In fact, I was pretty damn excited.

My eyes caught on the cute rom-com book on the floor again, and then back to the list of couples that Moira had helped in the book. My heart fell.

It wasn’t just about magick.

This was about people’s lives. Their hearts. Their hopes and dreams.

And I, well, I was an unreliable matchmaker. I couldn’t even pick good men for myself. How would it be possible that I could help others with their love lives when I didn’t even believe in a happy ending for myself?

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? I picked up my wine glass and drained it, sadness washing through me. Jessica had been telling me for years that my mother had soured my view on love, and I’d always laughed it off. But now, after another failed relationship with a boyfriend who had barely excited me, I had to admit there might be a kernel of truth to what she’d said. At the end of the day, I had a hard time believing that true love existed.

Sighing, I dropped my head back and threw an arm over my face.Your research might prove to be wrong, Aunt Moira.

I was going to be the worst matchmaker ever.

Chapter Ten

Rosie

It wasn’t jet lag that had me waking up at three in the morning and staring at the ceiling where Moira had hung faux green vines.

It was Daniel’s sad eyes.

And Edina’s hopeful expression.

I’d accepted their money, hadn’t I? It was officially a transaction, even though I hadn’t known what I was getting involved in, and now I felt a responsibility to see this through.

Or I could just refund their money. It wouldn’t be hard to explain that I wasn’t cut out for this job and they’d likely have better luck on a dating app.

I pictured Daniel trying to upload photos to Tinder and shook my head in the dark room. It would be likeleading a lamb to slaughter. That poor man would be torn apart on the dating apps, if my brief experience on them had taught me anything.

People were not their kindest selves when hidden behind a screen.

Which didn’t mean that I thought all people were bad. Contrary to that thought, I actually landed more in the default thinking that most people were good, albeit being around people at times annoyed me. But that was amething, not a people-hating thing.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, swiping at the screen of my phone to see that it was now four o’clock. Obviously I wasn’t getting back to sleep, so I might as well take this time to be productive. Surely this time of night would not bring me any visitors knocking at my door. Energized by the thought of actually working through some of my lists without interruption, I hopped in the shower, did my morning routine using two heavy books as hand weights, and got dressed. Today’s outfit was a cute pair of purple, wide-leg corduroy overalls and I paired it over a red, frilly almost sheer blouse. Piling my hair in a messy bun on my head, I wrapped a silk scarf around my tresses, and out of habit, patted some lip stain on my lips. Again, it wasn’t like anyone was going to see me at this hour but, knowing my tendency to lose track of time once I was hyper focused on a task, it was best to dress as though someone would come knocking. That way I wouldn’t be caught in my faded sleep shorts and ratty Minnie Mouse T-shirt.

After I brewed a cup of coffee and snagged another buttery, I walked out into the shop and pulledthe chain to light the fringe lamp. Dropping into the chair, I put my coffee down, buttery in one hand, and reached for my list with the other.

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