Page 28 of Wolf's Chance

“And the shifter she painted?”

I held his steady gaze. “It was you. She painted you, Alpha Cannon.”

EIGHT

Willow

I felt better.

I was treating feeling better with caution because I wasn’t sure when the last time I actually felt better was. However, I wasn’t dead on my feet like I had been when I last saw Caleb.

Caleb.

God damn that man. The man had up and left.

Or that’s what I assumed had happened because no one had seen him for days. He’d been here longer than I thought he would stay, and now that he was gone, I felt…bereft.

“This won’t do at all,” I scolded myself. “He was just a guy. He wasn’t even aniceguy.” I nodded to myself at the reminder that he was a colossal dick. “A dick who broke into your home.”

Lily was out of town for the weekend. One of her college friends was getting married, and she was excited to be attending the wedding. Lily, the hopeless romantic that she was, was convinced her future hubby was to be met at a wedding. I told her that as long as it wasn’t the groom, then there was no harm in dreaming.

Ha. Says the woman who had dreamt of Caleb every night since I saw him last. I didn’t remember the dreams, but I couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding when I woke up. It was almost as if something had happened to him, but I still had the sense that he was okay.

Safe.

Why would he not be safe?Shaking my head at my nonsense, I focused on packaging an order. I’d sold that painting to Caleb, and now, not even a week later, I’d made another sale. The painting that had sold was actually one of my favorites. Another meadow, covered in wildflowers located high on a mountain. The peak cast a shadow over the meadow but not in an opposing way. It gave a gentler impression, as if it was cradling the meadow, keeping it safe. There was that word again…safe.

I’d painted this on canvas, so it was easier to box and package. I just liked to take better care of my products than I probably should.

As I worked, my attention wandered too often to the bench across the street or the café I’d seen him come out of a few times.

The door opened and two men walked into my store. One was big, as big as Caleb, but older. The other was slight in stature, but there was an air about him that made me nervous. Warm smiles greeted me, and any feeling of unease I had quieted.

“Welcome.” I smiled back at them, Caleb’s nagging voice in the back of my head reminding me that I had poor sales skills.

“Afternoon,” the older man spoke to me. “It’s cooling down.”

I was already nodding in agreement. “Thankfully! I’m ready for autumn.” The smaller man watched me for a moment and then started studying my artwork. “I’m Willow,” I told them, waving my hand at the wall behind me. “Look around. If I can tell you anything about a piece, just ask.”

“You did them all.”

It wasn’t a question; it was as if he already knew. “Not all, most.” I pointed at Lily’s misshapen vase. “There are other local artists that display here for either attention or sale. Except that, that’s one of a kind and not for sale.”

The larger man’s answer was too low for me to hear, but judging by the way the smaller guy covered his mouth, I think I was better off not hearing it.

I moved my position so I could watch them as I finished the packaging. I wasn’t a jumpy woman. Men didn’t make me nervous usually, but there was an air about these two. Even the scrawnier man set my teeth on edge. I didn’t want to have my back to them, which surprised me. I wasn’t usually this way.

They spoke so quietly to each other that I couldn’t hear them. They studied each painting and drawing like it was worthy to be hung in the Louvre. I liked what I created, but even so, to have that level of intensity while my art was being scrutinized was making me feel awkward and nervous, so when the big guy turned to me and told me they would take six of my paintings, my jaw was on the floor.

“Pardon?”

The smaller one looked me over as he came closer. “You don’t sell them?”

“What?” I was standing with packing tape in my hands. Quite clearly having sold something. “Of course I do.”

“Great.” He smiled like he had when he came in. “How much?”

“Um.” Caleb was right, I was a bad salesperson. His reminder gave me the boot I needed to remember this was my store, my art, my job, and my livelihood. “Show me which ones again.”

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