Page 10 of When the Angel Falls First

I foundthem a little over a mile away and slowed my pace as I realized they were still together and lingering in Gas Works Park. It was a unique piece of Seattle history—what used to bea coal gasification plant had been turned into a park where people and geese alike enjoyed the view of Lake Union.

My couple, however, was ignoring both the water and the Seattle skyline. I spotted them leaning against a fence, elbow to elbow, and… arguing?

No, that wasn’t right. They were loud, and they were gesturing animatedly, but they bothglowedwith happiness, not frustration. I walked slowly, gazing out over the water, then back to the gasworks where they stood, keeping my surveillance subtle.

“It’s not about the sex. If that’s what you think, you’re missing the point,” he argued.

She threw up her hands, a glint of playful exaggeration in her aura, but no real heat. “Really, then? Enlighten me. Whatisit about?”

“The journey. Theadventure. Taking a risk, putting yourself out there! Haven’t you ever wondered what might happen if you just let go, gave in to the possibilities?” His chest heaved as he stared into her eyes far too intensely for a near-stranger. He looked like he wanted to tear her clothes off.

“Yes, yes I have.” The words were soft, so subtle the evening breeze would have carried them away from anyone without supernatural hearing.

Something wordless and wild passed between them, and then she was kissing him, and he was kissing her right back, his hands cupping her jaw and tipping her head up. Heat spiraled upward toward the night sky, and a smile split my lips.

New love. Passion that burned so brightly, the heavens couldn’t help but take notice.

They were meant to be, and everything inside me reveled in joy at the sight of a perfect match coming together for the first time.

Josiehad known exactly what they needed to spark the flame. I felt that same rush of heat in my own veins, the couple’s desire thick in the air affecting me, making me think back to the time Josie and I spent wrapped up in each other like that.

I sped up, leaving the couple alone to see where the night took them. My hand fell to my pocket, grabbing the cell phone I kept there for clients. In seconds, I had pulled up the shop phone number for the Bookish Cat, but my thumb hesitated over the call button.

I needed time to think, to say the exact right thing. If I wanted any shot with Josie at all, I couldn’t mess it up a second time.

FIVE

Josie

As evening fell,I nestled into my reading nook. The inviting warmth of my apartment, a charming two-bedroom on the fifth floor of a classic Seattle brownstone, surrounded me. It wasn’t overly extravagant, but it was cozy and had a glorious view of the city skyline.

The place smelled perpetually of aged paper and a faint whiff of fresh coffee, scents that seemed to linger even when I couldn’t find their sources.

One of my great joys was snuggling in my favorite cat-print pajamas that had seen better days. To add to the symphony of comfort, Gatsby, the youngest of the Bookish Cat’s feline entourage, had followed me home and was now snoozing peacefully at my sock-clad feet, his soft purring lulling me into a sense of deceptive tranquility.

Because today had been anything but tranquil.

I tried to calm my mind by settling into my reading nook, tucked away in a corner of the living room—my treasured tomes piled haphazardly on vintage bookshelves, spilling out onto small side tables, and even stacked like literary skyscraperson the floor. These books had been my solace during a childhood when I felt I had no choices, no freedom, no future of my own.

Tonight, however, even my favorite Krista Street book couldn’t stop the whirl of turmoil in my head. The day’s events replayed in my mind like a stubborn earworm—the sudden reappearance of Caleb with his enigmatic eyes, his casual charm, and the unresolved past that echoed in the hollow spaces of our conversation. The twist of his hand, which sent Mr. Anderson on his way.

As I dwelled on the sight of him, my heart palpitated at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. But every time I imagined him taking me in his arms the way he’d done when we were younger, surrounding me and making me feel like the most important woman in the world, a wiser voice thundered into my mind as if over a loudspeaker.

Don’t get your hopes up. He probably won’t be back.

He’d been there and then he’d been gone. He’d come back… and he’d likely go again. Tomorrow, the day after? Who knew, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out. Barb was wrong—expecting that Caleb would be my date was a bad idea all around. And I absolutely couldnotget attached to the idea of him as a fixture in my life, permanent or otherwise.

In a bid to anchor my wavering thoughts, I turned my attention to the more urgent matter at hand.

My great-grandmother’s hundredth-birthday party was nearing, and there was no way I could go without a date, for my own sanity. In a sudden fit of desperation, I set my novel on the antique side table and grabbed my laptop. I settled back into my throne, an oversized plush armchair with an eclectic mix of throw pillows, and logged back into FindYourGuy.com. There had to be at least one man who could fit the bill. To askCaleb—even if I did see him again—would be asking too much.

The glow from my laptop screen illuminated the room as I scanned through profile after profile, my mouse hovering over the “Chat Now” button. Forget about the man whose entire profile was in rhyme… no, not the taxidermist again… hmm, a rock collector?

Rock collector is a good contender…

I took a deep breath and clicked on his profile, determined to plunge in headfirst and find myself a date.

Josie: Hi there. I saw you’re into rock collecting! That’s really interesting!

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