Fridays were my absolute favorite because as soon as it turned three o’clock in the afternoon, Shelf Indulgence would be filled with the sounds of children’s excited chatter and giggles. I’d started the tradition of story time the previous year, and it had proven to be a huge success.

Usually it was just me, wearing my special “reading hat” and spectacles, making sure each character had its own distinct voice, much to the merriment of each of my little visitors.

Today’s book had reduced us to fits of laughter. Hugs and Kisses was a cute story of a little girl catching her parents sharing a sweet kiss and wanting to make sure she knew how to when she grew up. Belle, the confused heroine of the tale, had then gone around her house, kissing her stuffed animals, the mirror, and even her sleeping grandfather’s bald head. In her mind, she wanted to be happy just like her mom and dad, and the book ended in a loud symphony of lip smacks—and groans from those who worried about catching cooties from others.

The doorbell sounded, and everyone turned around to see who’d come to join in. I was a little surprised to find Holly standing there, alone, glancing about the store before her gaze met mine.

“Oops,” she quickly said, her eyes taking in the small group of children sitting around me. “I don’t want to interrupt. I was just hoping to maybe look through some of the shelves . . . like you were talking about earlier with my uncle.”

Speaking of Micah, there was no sign of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody.

I hoped the smile I gave her helped ease her uncertainty. “Sure. If you find something interesting, there’s an oversized chair in the back that is super comfy.”

There was a tug at my sleeve. “Miss Sedona, can she read us another story?” Big, round chocolate-brown eyes looked up at me. Even though I told myself I shouldn’t have favorites, this little boy knew how to tug hard at my heartstrings.

“I think you need to ask her, sweetheart.”

Everyone turned again, watching Holly expectantly.

A huge grin spread across her adolescent features, and she brushed her long, thick brown hair back over her shoulder.

“Of course!” she exclaimed, before coming to join us on the rainbow-colored rug I used for story time.

Not missing a beat, the boy hurried over to the overflowing stack of books I always kept close by. I was pretty sure we’d read through most of them, but it didn’t seem to bother anyone. For me, it was about seeing their imaginations expand and blossom. By capturing their hearts now, I hoped they would become forever readers.

“Read this one! It’s funny, but you’ve got to do all the voices. It’s only good if you do that.” The earnest expression in his gaze had me stifling a chuckle, because I knew he was being as serious as his four-year-old mind could be.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Holly asked me. There was no mistaking her excitement. While I didn’t know too much about her and Micah, something whispered that she wanted to do this just as much as the children did.

Standing up, I leaned in and quietly added, “Just be careful. If they have their way, they’ll have you reading all night.”

Of course, when I looked back down at them, each child reflected an image of perfect innocence. The little stinkers!

“Oh, I don’t mind. I was getting a little stir crazy anyway.” There was no mistaking the sharp twang of loneliness I felt from her. Poor kid was probably bored from constantly staring at the four walls of her home.

Holly took the vacated seat in front of her attentive audience, and I took that as my cue to return to the work I’d left sitting under the register at the front.

Lavender was curled up in her favorite spot by the window, soaking up the warm rays of the sun shining through. I’d discovered the tiny ball of fur late one night, abandoned by the dumpsters outside, shivering with cold. After a brief inspection, I saw that the poor kitten had been born with a deformed, infected leg that made it difficult for her to get about and search for food.

It had taken a few trips to the vet clinic before the doctor deemed it necessary for her to lose the limb. I instantly handed over my credit card, assuring him that Lavender would have a forever home with me and that we were kindred spirits of sorts.

He’d given me a weird look at that, but he was used to it, living in Havenwood Falls. Nothing was ever what it seemed, so why wouldn’t a twenty-four-year-old bookstore owner take a disabled kitten into her life? It wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’d see in his career.

When I looked into Lavender’s eyes, I felt a deep, resounding connection. Both of us knew what it was like to be misunderstood. All we wanted was to be loved for who we were, and not judged solely on our limitations—or in my case, my ability to see into the hearts and minds of those around me.

It was with that peace and calmness that I named the sweet tabby after the purple herb lavender. Had I known her true temperament, I may have chosen Diva instead, or Queen Sassy Pants. But she made me smile, and her early morning meowing for food was more endearing than annoying.

Most days.

“Enjoying the view, Lavender?” I asked, gently brushing my fingers over her soft fur. “See anything interesting happening out there?”

I peered out the bay windows, wishing for the time when the town square would return to its gorgeous manicured green lawns and gardens.

They’d finally taken down the Valentine’s Day decorations in preparation for the upcoming spring equinox celebrations. There was always something happening—some party, fair, or festival.

I especially liked the Into the Mystic New Age & Psychic Fair Eloise planned each year that ran during the equinox. It was one of those occasions where some of the supernaturals in town could be themselves, sharing their gifts and talents with the unsuspecting, yet enthusiastic, human population. Eloise had tried to convince me to buy a booth and use my empath skills with some kind of love theme. So far I’d managed to sidestep her insistent asking. It seemed a sham to help others find love when I couldn’t do it for myself.

Lavender purred beneath my touch, her fur rippling as she leisurely stretched.

Austin came rushing through the door, sending a cold draft of air in and ruffling the flyers on the counter. I didn’t know who was more annoyed—me or my pampered cat. She threw him a disdainful look before closing her eyes again.

“Sorry I’m late. I ran all the way from school.” Dumping his heavy backpack behind the counter, he kissed my cheek, grabbing his name badge at the same time. “I was beginning to think I was going to die in that last period. Why the hell did I take AP Statistics again?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Because, and I quote, what’s life for except to live a little dangerously.” I lowered my hands after making quotation marks in the air. “I believe you also mentioned that it would be fun.”

I still had a hard time accepting my part-time employee took hard subjects like math because he thought it would be fun. The only entertaining thing about that would be watching how many brains exploded from mental calculations and test anxiety. My own time in school was purposely blocked out, so I never remembered the trauma of trying to memorize equations and formulas.

Words I loved.

The alphabet had no business in math.

“Well, I’m seriously rethinking that theory and questioning how reliable my common sense is. Why didn’t I take some fluff class like pottery making or papier mâché? I could’ve graduated and made a cool Christmas present for my annoying cousin, Ling.” Austin smoothed down his wind-blown hair and glanced around. “So, who’s the new girl?”

There was a glint of interest in his eyes and a ping in his aura.

“She’s fourteen,” I answered, sharply. Austin was a good kid, but he was also a flirt. The last thing I wanted was Micah storming in because his niece was suffering from a broken heart. “So go easy on the poor girl. Not everyone is immune to your charm.”

His boyish grin made it hard to remain stern. He really did have a good heart, from what I could tell. He did what he wanted. He wore what he wanted. There wasn’t much he couldn’t talk himself out of or into. That was how he came to work for me. He wanted a part-time job and had decided Shelf Indulgence was in dire need of his services. After five minutes of listening to him, I was shoving the new-hire paperwork at him.

Austin placed his hand over his chest while feigning shock and offense. “You wound me, Sedona. You truly do. I was simply asking who she was. No other motives. Pinky swear.”

I rolled my eyes at him again. “Just get to work and leave her alone. Go through the books and make sure everything’s in order and where it should be.”

He bowed dramatically, rolling his hand out in front of him. “As you wish.”

And just because he could, he took a slight detour by the small group of attentive listeners and winked at Holly. She forgot her place in the story for the briefest of seconds, but it was enough to earn a response from the children. Stammering, she returned her focus to the book and continued on.

I wanted to throttle Austin.

“I’ll gladly do it for you, Sedona. He won’t feel it, but I would take great pleasure in the mere action of it.”

My life was utterly crazy, with a diva cat, a Casanova employee, and a ghost who never gave a warning when he popped in and out from wherever he went when he wasn’t bothering me.

“You know, it’s not healthy to keep all that suppressed anger bottled up, Maxwell. You should learn to relax.” I gave him a sidelong glance before reaching under the counter for the small pile of order forms and bills. “Maybe you should channel your inner Casper.”

The snort of indignation that erupted from him made my teasing worth it. “You would mourn me if I ever decided to leave this establishment. Don’t try to deny it.”

“Not if you keep threatening to inflict ghostly bodily harm on Austin. How many times is it this week? Eight? Ten?” I’d lost count.

“Twelve, but that’s beside the point. You refuse to listen to me when I warn you something isn’t quite right about him. Mark my words, you’ll regret not listening to me, Sedona.”

Austin could never see Maxwell when they were both in the same room, but sometimes I wondered if he really could. Now was one of those moments because, as if hearing his name, Austin looked back toward the front at me.

I refused to give any credence to Maxwell’s paranoia. Austin was as hardworking as he was smart, and he had a sense of style that I admired. Today, he wore a pair of blue denim jeans with a red-and-yellow-striped T-shirt that had a Gryffindor patch on the breast. He loved to dress up for the different events in the community, wearing his fandom favorites with pride.

“He’s harmless,” I countered, repeating the same thing I did each time the topic came up. “Don’t you think I’d sense if something was off about him?” I glared at him, tired of having to defend Austin. “Seriously. I think I’m a pretty good judge of character.” I tried not to be offended when he cocked his eyebrows at me and scoffed. I continued, “Fine, besides some of the guys I’ve dated.”

“You’re still very young, Sedona, as are your gifts. And because of your youth and naiveté, you often ignore what’s right before you.”

“Well, right now, I have a grumpy old man standing in front of me. How’s that for talent?” I hated arguing with Maxwell. I knew he had good intentions, but he wasn’t my father. He didn’t have a right to tell me how to live my life.

He instantly closed his mouth, pursing his lips. The edges around his form began to grow hazy. He was about to fade away. I didn’t stop him this time. We would no doubt talk later, and all would be forgiven.

I guess he wasn’t done lecturing me. Just as he was almost gone, I heard him say, “Mark my words, Sedona. Mark. My. Words.”

I plopped back onto the counter stool and stared at the empty space where he had just been. Our conversation had left a weird taste in my mouth, and I felt myself nearing my limit. Being an empath could be exhausting, and there were days when I found myself suddenly overstimulated and in desperate need of solitude.

The clock on the wall behind me said it was already four. Parents would be coming for their children soon, and maybe I could close up early for the day. The safety of my home felt very appealing right now.

“What say you, Lavender? Shall we go home and spend the night watching Kitchen Nightmares on Hulu?”

She ignored me.

I guess it would just be me then.

Sorting through the papers, I took care of the most urgent and important, then placed the pile back under the counter for tomorrow. I was starting to get a headache, and the numbers on the bills had begun swimming on the page.

With my head resting in my hands, my eyes closed. I didn’t see him coming until he was standing in the entryway, fists clenched, thunder echoing in his voice as he glared at me.

“Where is she?” Micah demanded, his anger filling the store until there was no room to even breathe. He was magnificent as much as he was terrifying.

Two of the children began to cry.

“Micah,” I started, instantly choking as he advanced toward me.

It was then that I felt it—fear . . . panic . . . uncertainty.

It was in total contradiction to the body language he was displaying.

Micah Westbrook was terrified, and he looked like he would level the town in his wrath.

I tried again, gulping nervously before finding the courage to face him.

“She’s here, Micah.” That was when I realized she hadn’t told him where she was going. She’d been here all this time, and I’d foolishly assumed he’d known.

It took a few moments for him to register what I said, and a few more for him to notice that Holly had come to stand beside him, her hand lying gently on his bicep.

“Uncle.”

And in the space it took for him to finally see her and take a breath, his emotions were locked back behind the wall he always had erected. But I’d been prepared this time—quicker. I’d caught some images that had flashed in his mind before it all went blank.

He looked at me, knowing I’d seen something with my gift.

Wrapping his arms around Holly, he crushed her to him, all the while telling her to never, ever leave the house again without telling him. His eyes never left mine, even though he was talking to his niece. Part of me wanted to feign interest in my paperwork so they could have a little privacy, but I wasn’t the only one watching the encounter.

“Perhaps you two would like to use the back storeroom to talk?” I suggested.

“No, we’re leaving. Grab your things, Holly.” There was a heavy dose of authority in his tone that most people would struggle to ignore. It demanded obedience and submission. It wouldn’t tolerate defiance, which was exactly what Holly showed.

With her hands firmly on her waist, she glared up at her uncle. “I’m not ready to leave yet. I haven’t finished reading the story. Plus, you’re angry.”

I could almost hear Micah count to ten in his mind. I wanted to laugh and remind him that it only got worse with teenagers—that if he thought he could win every battle with her, he was sadly deluded.

“Fine, let’s talk.” Gesturing for her to go ahead, he looked my way again. “The room is back there?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Take your time.”

The storefront was eerily quiet once the two had left and the door closed swiftly behind them. The children shifted uneasily, and I threw on another smile just for them.

“How about we have another story while we wait for your parents?”

It was the longest ten minutes I’d ever spent in the store as I attempted to read, watching nervously where Micah and Holly had disappeared, and also the front door. Finally the last of the children were gone.

Austin snuck up beside me. “What the heck was that?” he murmured, letting out a low whistle.

“Good question,” I answered.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue either.