Page 8 of Save a Wish

Had I only imagined her human body had risen from her lying position? Did an angel ascend from her instead and that was what was looking upon me now?

“Are you dead?” I asked.

Her eyebrows rose over stunning green eyes then her nose—one dusted with light freckles that dotted her cheeks as well—crinkled.

“Dead?” She patted her hands over her torso. “I don’t believe so. No.” She reached out a hand as if to touch my forehead then pulled her hand back before making contact.

Pity. I wanted her to touch me for some reason.

“Did you jostle your head too much when you fell?” she asked, concern on her truly perfect face.

Jostle? Didn’t hear that word much.

“No.” I sat up more fully, surprised to find my jacket sleeve covered in burdock burrs. I’d fallen right into the prickly seed heads. “Shit.”

“Are they poisonous?” the woman asked. “Are you in grave danger?”

A chuckle slipped out of me. “Grave danger? No, but it is a pain in the ass to pick these all off.” I began the task, grumbling as the Velcro-like burrs plucked at the fabric of my jacket.

The woman’s delicate fingers closed around one of the burrs near my elbow. She recoiled a bit as if shocked by the pinch the burrs caused, but then she committed more seriously to helping me remove them.

Oddly, we didn’t talk while we worked together, but I felt her gaze on me a few times, and she probably felt mine on her too. When she reached up toward my shoulders, a vision of kissing her popped into my head.

But she was only grabbing a burr on the collar of my jacket.

“You’re right,” she said after having one of the burrs stick to her thumb. “These are determined little pricks, aren’t they?”

Pricks! Ha! “The prickiest of pricks.”

She smiled and something warm flooded through me. Damn, she was absolutely spectacular. Like seriously. Had she fallen from the heavens or something?

“What were you doing lying in the brush out here?” I dislodged the final burr and tossed it aside.

“Meditating.” She held out her hand. “I’m Sadie Rodgers.”

“Nice to meet you.” I slid my hand along hers and yeah, that warmth inside me amplified by a thousand percent. “Beckett Hartley.”

“A pleasure.” She tightened her grip on my hand as she rose effortlessly to her feet. Giving a little tug, she helped me to standing. When she released my hand, she walked a circle around me. “I don’t see any more pricks on you.”

I laughed at her use of the word pricks again. “That’s a relief.”

“I do apologize for giving you a fright.” She waved a hand to the depression in the brush where she’d been lying. “But it was such a comfy spot to get grounded.”

Ah, so she was one of those crunchy, earthy types who balanced chakras and crap. I loved nature and all, but I wasn’t into that stuff. It seemed like a load of bullshit to me.

“Do you meditate?” she asked.

“No.”

“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes as if studying me. “You should. Your aura’s a bit off.”

“My aura?” I folded my arms across my chest. “My aura is just fine.”

She shook her head, that mane of red hair silky about her shoulders. “No. It’s definitely murky. You should consider a sound bath.”

“What in the world is a sound bath?”

“It’s a lovely practice.” Her entire face brightened. “Someone plays crystal singing bowls that resonate at different frequencies. Those frequencies are great for healing and aligning and purifying. The music of them is so energizing. I’m going to get a set of bowls once I get settled.” She nodded once as if making that decision right then.