Chapter 16

Kaida spent most of the morning in her sisters' shop, watching them in reverent awe. Well, when Brady wasn't on her mind every three seconds, anyway. She'd always been relatively comfortable with people, could stand at a podium and lecture with ease, but her sisters had skills. Serious skills. They had divide and conquer down to an art form and could sell fleas to a dog.

Like the other stores along the cobblestone strip on Puritan Street, the exterior was gray clapboard with burgundy shutters framing a large display window. One-story, there was a small awning over the front door. It was nestled between a cafe and a bookstore, to which got a lot of cross-traffic.

Tourism season on the island had just begun, but even without it, Bedknobs & Broomsticks had its share of local customers. Townsfolk adored her sisters and seemed to pop in for everything from medicinal remedies to advice on love or life. People stayed to chat, drop off goodies, or dole gossip. It was...charming.

The shop itself wasn't big at about two-hundred square feet, but it was organized to the nines and made great use of space. Floor-to-ceiling chipped birch shelves held lotions, soaps, and ointments on one side, all made by Fiona. Each scented bottle had it's own purpose. Relaxation. Stress-relief. Romance. Energy. Fertility. Rejuvenation. Healing. Luck. On the other side were shelves of the same material with potions made by Ceara, candles, and homemade tea bags. Again, all with a purpose and decoratively labeled. They apparently did online orders, too.

A tiny seating area donned the center of the room with celestial-patterned fabric. Flanking the curved settees were shallow bookshelves showcasing knickknackssmall handmade straw brooms with witch slogans, crystal balls, and gemstones. The front desk displayed postcards of Wiccan rituals. The walls were painted a calming seafoam green and the ceiling was navy blue with yellow stars. They even had dried black walnut branches affixed to make it look like a canopy.

Skills. Everything from the atmosphere to their merchandise played into the Galloway island lore and trapped clientele into not only buying, but coming back for more. Homey, inviting, and delightful. Mad skills.

Fiona and Ceara had two employeesa manager named Violet who watched over things when her sisters weren't around, and a young girl they called Sugar, but whose real name Kaida hadn't a clue. She handled all things relating to website orders and shipping. Violet was an old friend of Mara's. Wild gray hair, a ring on every finger, and a voice like a three pack a day smoker. She also went heavy on the patchouli. Sugar was twenty if a day, lined her eyes with enough coal to make Marilyn Manson jealous, and had modern goth nailed as if it were her due. She spoke not one word when introduced to Kaida, and positioned herself in the back room with a computer, never to return.

Fascinating. Kaida could write an entire thesis on the shop's intricacies alone.

"So, there I was, walking down the hallway in my nightie holding a baseball bat. The knocking gets louder, but no one was there!" Diane, an islander who owned the pizzeria, shoved her brown strands from her face impatiently. "I'm telling you, this stuff only happens when my dear Wayne is on a business trip."

"Sounds like you need to cleanse the house." Fiona, wearing a tight royal blue dress, sauntered over to a shelf, her hips swaying seductively. Everything she did was sensual. Blinking could be considered foreplay. She passed Diane an item. "Sage. Burn that and walk through each room. It'll get rid of spirits." Her gaze scanned another shelf. "And here, take this tea to help you relax before bed. Soak in a nice hot bath with these salts, and you'll be right as rain in no time."

Diane gushing, Fiona rang her up and sent her on the way with a "Blessed be," while Kaida just shook her head.

"And...and he said it just wasn't working out." Sally, a waitress at the pub, blew her nose loudly into a tissue Ceara passed her and slumped on the settee. "Things were going so well. I thought maybe he was the one, you know?"

Ceara squeezed the woman's shoulder, cooing in her calming juju voice. "He's not worth the effort to cry over." Rising, she gathered items from various shelves and arranged them in a basket, her gauzy white dress flowing like air with her graceful movement. "This is my personal heartbreak kit. Lock yourself up good and tight tonight and use these. Tomorrow, get back on the horse."

"Oh, thank you, thank you." Sally walked to the counter. "I don't know how I'd get through a breakup without you."

"Good thing you'll never have to find out." Ceara smiled, and even Kaida got hypnotized by her soothing assurance. "We're here anytime you need us. And remember, that other fish in the sea adage is true. Blessed be."

Once the door closed behind the morning rush, Kaida laughed. "Wow. I bow down."

A smirk, and Fiona sat on a stool behind the register, buffing her nails. "All in a day's work. When are you meeting Brady?"

Kaida glanced at her watch. "Shoot. Three minutes ago." She'd been so caught up in the antics, she'd lost track of time. Snatching her purse from a hook, she rushed up front. "Be back in an hour."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Fiona called.

Since Kaida didn't think there was anything Fiona hadn't tried or done, she kept mum, strode the few feet next door, and shoved through the cafe's entrance.

She scanned the space and found Brady leaning against the far wall by a condiment rack, arms crossed, watching the exit. He wore faded jeans, worn in all the right areas, and a gray tee that emphasized his lean muscular build and defined biceps. Strangely, he also had on his thin, black-framed glasses.

He met her halfway in the middle of the shop with a wide grin. "Hey."

"Hi. Sorry I'm late." She tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear, taking in his slightly disheveled bedhead look and dark five o'clock shadow. Uhn. Attractive as hell. "I was watching the floor show at my sisters' shop."

He offered a rough laugh. "They are something of an enigma. Though, knowing what I do now, they probably have the town under a spell."

"Hmm, maybe, but that would go against the no-person-gain rule. That's why they don't play the lottery." One of the many guidelines her sisters had been teaching her about the craft. Any magick used for such purposes always came back twofold. And not pleasantly. She glanced around at the small iron tables, artistic pictures of steaming cups on the mocha-painted walls, and the display case filled with sweets. The scent of roasted coffee beans and chocolate surrounded her. "It smells orgasmic in here."

"Ha." He rubbed the back of his neck as if nervous. "They, uh, have great cappuccinos. And brownies. Salads and sandwiches, too. Shall we?" He gestured toward the counter.

"Sure. You're wearing glasses today." Geeky hot.

He eased in line five people deep and nodded. "Yeah, didn't sleep last night. My eyes couldn't take contacts this morning."

That would explain why he hadn't shown up in her dreams. Or perhaps it was because they'd met in person and the appearances would stop? "You had a lot of info to absorb. That's understandable."

"True story." He hesitated, then sighed. "Actually, my insomnia had more to do with you. I was worried. And the second we were separated, I had this barbaric urgency to get back to you. I don't know what's going on or what to believe, but I spent the rest of the night on my balcony staring at the ocean, counting down the hours until sunrise. To say I had an unproductive morning would be an understatement. Are you feeling it, too, or do I need a padded cell?"

She studied the frustrated lines bracketing his mouth and his bloodshot mossy eyes. The oddest sensation crept up her spine and tugged her heart. A blinding insight, of sorts. She was right where she was supposed to be. For the first time in her life, she wasn't outside looking in, searching for a place to belong, or trying to fill a void with anything she could find. On an island off the eastern coast, beside a man who shouldn't exist, and with unknown variables at play, she breathed. Just...breathed.

"You're not alone." For once, neither was she. "I crashed hardcore last night. When I woke up, the pull to find you was intense." She'd gone through countless wardrobe changes in anticipation for their lunch. Eventually, she'd settled on beige knit pants and a white blouse, but not before she'd emptied her closet onto the bed. "The shop kept me distracted, but I thought about you every other minute."

Affectionate understanding warmed his eyes, and he ducked his head.

They ordered and claimed a corner booth by the window, her with a chicken Caesar salad and him with a turkey club. A few bites in, he cleared his throat.

"Ceara said something about you not having control of your powers. Weren't you taught that sort of thing when you got them? Not that I have a clue about the...lifestyle or anything, but I'm curious."

"By the way Mara relays the details, when I was sent to live with distant family, they were given instructions. I was supposed to learn but, for whatever reason, my parents didn't bother." She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "In fact, I didn't know anything about any of this, including my sisters."

He paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. "So you're just as shocked as me and my brothers. That must've been a blow, huh?"