Page 14 of Timid (Lark Cove 2)

I took the soda gun and filled my glass, then grabbed Thea’s sketch pad to flip through the pages. “You’ve almost got this one full.”

“When I get back, you’d better have a new one waiting for me.”

I chuckled. “Done.”

Thea had been a perpetual whiner during the first few months after she’d moved to Montana. She’d complained constantly about how boring and slow it was at the bar. So I’d bought her a sketch pad, then told her to quit bitching and draw. Ever since, whenever she ran out of room in one pad, I bought her another.

“Who were you drawing tonight?” I asked, reaching the end of the book.

“You’ll see.”

I turned to the last page and nearly fell over.

That hair. It was the girl from my dream.

Even though the drawing was a black and white, it was obvious her hair was light and long and wavy. She was in profile, her high cheekbones resting perfectly over a shy smile. Somehow, Thea had reached into my mind and yanked out my dream girl.

“She’s hot.” Hot wasn’t the right word, but I didn’t want to get all gooey in front of Thea. Beautiful. Stunning. Ethereal. Those big words would just lead to questions I didn’t want to answer, so instead, I went with hot.

I looked up from the book and scanned the bar. I knew she wasn’t here, but I wished she’d be back. “I’m sorry I missed her. Who is this?”

Thea’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Who is this?” I glanced at Thea, then back down again, wanting to keep my eyes on the page. “Was she just passing through or do you think she’ll be back?”

Please, let her be here for the summer. Let this woman be real.

“Do I think she’ll be back?” Thea’s voice rose as she stood from her stool and rounded the bar, only to snatch the sketch pad away. “Give me that.”

She looked at it for a moment, then shoved it in my face. “That is Willa, you dipshit.”

“No fucking way.” I yanked the pad from her hands. Willa? The timid blond girl? She was the science teacher’s daughter and a kid. There was no way Willa was this gorgeous woman. “She doesn’t look like this.”

“Yes fucking way she does.”

I bent closer to the paper, studying it before looking back at Thea. “She does?”

“Oh my god.” Thea tossed up her hands and walked away to check on her customers. It gave me a chance to study the page.

This couldn’t be Willow. Willa. I was shit at remembering names. When I’d first met her, I’d tried to memorize it just like she’d told it to me. Willow. Except I’d memorized it wrong. She’d corrected me a few times, but Willow had stuck.

Willa. With an a. Willa.

I repeated it ten times.

“Do you see it yet? Or am I really that bad of an artist?”

“Huh?” I jerked up, forcing my eyes away from the drawing as Thea came back. “I, uh, gotta go.”

In a daze, I hugged Thea good-bye and walked out—taking her sketch pad with me. I was going to get to the bottom of this and find out why I’d been dreaming of Willa for two weeks.

Starting with a phone call.

My feet headed down the route home as I dug my phone from my pocket and dialed the number.

“You’d better be in jail if you’re waking me up at this hour,” Hazel answered.

“Not in jail.” Not that she’d come bail me out anyway. She’d leave my ass in a cell until I’d learned my lesson. “Sorry to wake you.”