Page 106 of Howlin’ For You

“My office,” she announces, opening a door in the back of the building. “Come in, come in.”

I allow her to herd me inside and settle down in the open chair in front of what I assume is her desk. She sits slowly, easing into the chair as if with a certain amount of difficulty, on the other side.

“I’ll manage my vendors. They know me and I’m very protective of them, but we would be happy to supply the event.”

“Oh,” I chuckle, the wind leaving my sails. I had planned a whole pitch.

“That’s why you’re here, yes?”

I’m out of my depth with this woman. I can only nod as she grins at me—she’s missing two teeth.

“I’m a seer. You haven’t encountered one of us before.” It’s not a question, but I find myself nodding again anyway. I’ve never met a seer before, and to be honest, I didn’t even know they were a thing.

I’m going to be doing quite a bit of research tonight.

Her weathered fingers trail along the desk in front of her. “It can be intimidating to converse with someone who knows what will come to pass before you’ve even decided. Strange, even.”

Strange is certainly a word for it.

“You’ll get used to it,” she finishes with a twinkle in her eye. “For now, I will email you a full list of my vendors and what they will be providing. Crafts, foods, and local artisan goods. And there’s a booth you should visit today. Number twenty-six.”

She produces a map from her desk drawer with the booth location already circled.

Anything to get me out of this room. I miss feeling like my thoughts are my own.

I shake her hand and let her shoo me away, slamming the door shut behind me as I’m once again overwhelmed by the sights and smells of the indoor market. It’s like a miniature Pike Place Market.

I’m incredibly thankful for the map as I twist and turn through the people and booths. Until I stop, and I’m met with a table filled to the brim with knick-knacks.

Maybe having a seer read my mind isn’t so bad after all.

CHAPTER SIX

NICK

Icatch little whiffs of Izzy’s scent the next day, all over town as she goes around talking to vendors, and I go around helping people. I don’t ever actually see her, but now that I know her, I can smell her everywhere.

Cinnamon, vanilla, and nutmeg. The sweetest treat.

Despite Izzy essentially demanding to take over my scheduling yesterday, I barely had time to catch my breath. The rest of my day after our meeting was jam-packed with broken sinks, busted doors, and whatever other nonsense the people of this town tend to get into.

So much so that when I finally dragged myself through my front door at the end of the day, I only had enough energy to inhale a bowl of cereal before passing out in my bed.

My thoughts today are on her with every hammer, every screw, every pipe, every random animal that needs rescuing from a tree. I’m consumed with thoughts of her laughter, her sense of humor, her lips.

I’m practically howling with the need to catch even just a glimpse of her by the time evening creeps below the tops of the evergreen trees. Maybe it’s the moon high in the sky, or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve finally found my mate, but my instincts are harder and harder to ignore.

Without conscious thought, I find myself following Izzy’s spicy-sweet trail, her scent growing stronger as I draw closer. I walk along the sidewalks until I’m outside Georgie’s café, and I see her.

She’s chatting with Georgie as she cleans up for the day, that light-infused smile on her face. It’s important she makes friends and finds a community here.

At least, it is if I’m ever going to keep her.

That’s what I tell myself as I back away slowly, smiling to myself at the laughter between my best friend and my mate.

I wonder if Georgie has said anything about Izzy being my mate? I’ve never known her to keep her mouth shut, although stranger things have happened.

I should let them be.