Page 6 of A Wolf of War
“I knew I should’ve taken another pill,” she groaned, letting her head fall back against the headrest, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Oh, stop it. We’re almost there.”
By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Willow was just relieved to be in one piece.
She straightened her tank top and grabbed her purse from the floorboard, slipping the white tote bag up her arm and over her shoulder. It was big enough for a few items, and her sister had brought a couple of reusable bags. They both climbed out of the vehicle and started toward the farmer’s market.
After a long stroll through a crowded street, they could finally see the tops of the stalls, colorful tents rising above the crowd.
“Oh, I hope that weird art lady is here again!” Poppy exclaimed enthusiastically.
“Do you mean the one with the scary fetus sculpture, or are you talking about yourself in the third person?”
“Hush, you.”
They both laughed softly, taking in the symphony of sights, sounds, and smells. In front of them, a vendor sold cheese, milk, yogurt, and even ice cream. Across fromthem, a woman tended to her plants, speaking with a curious passerby.
Something caught Willow’s eye. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her gaze darting back and forth before it finally settled on him.
He was tall, muscular, and devastatingly handsome. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, the moment stretching, heavy with some meaning unknown to her. It felt like a black hole had opened in her chest, beautifully suffocating.
“Willow, are you listening?”
Poppy’s voice broke her reverie as she gave Willow a light tap on the shoulder. When Willow looked back, the man was gone. She wondered if she had imagined the whole thing.
“I think I’m going crazy,” she muttered to herself.
“Oh, sweetheart, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Oh my God, Poppy. Come on, let’s check out the vegetable stands.”
Her voice was dismissive, but she couldn’t help the agitation stirring in her gut. She hadn’t liked being pulled from whatever that was—whatever had just happened. She tried to shake it off, focusing on the market instead.
They stopped at a tent full of plants from one ofthe local farms. It was like a jungle, overflowing with ivy and foliage, the leaves thick enough to shield everything around you from view. Willow quickly lost sight of Poppy, but she didn’t worry about it. Her sister was often wandering off.
Instead of searching for Poppy, she paused in front of a display of orchids, marveling at their odd shapes. Her fingers brushed the soft petals, and she leaned forward to inhale their fragrance.
“Hey, there.”
Willow gasped, startled, and whipped around, nearly colliding with the man from before.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she sputtered, her cheeks bright. She could feel the heat in her face, a rush of warmth spreading.
“No, you’re fine,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring. “I shouldn’t have startled you. I just really love orchids and wanted to see them.”
He seemed pleasant enough, and Willow didn’t feel threatened. There was something oddly magnetic about him. Clearing her throat, she offered, “Would you like to look at them with me?” It was an odd question to ask a stranger, and she wasn’t sure why it had left her mouth.
His grin made her heart seize in her chest, brilliant white teeth flashing between soft, kissable lips. Willow blinked rapidly.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Yeah, absolutely. Which one’s your favorite?”
She turned back to the flowers, trying to steady herself. The man shifted slightly, his torso nearly pressing into hers. She could feel the heat radiating from his barrel chest. His presence was overwhelming, and her breath hitched.
With a trembling finger, she pointed to a pink orchid, her voice barely a whisper.
“That one.”
