Soothsayer: Magic Is All Around Us (Soothsayer Series Book 1) Read Free Page B

And besides, it’s not like I’ve met anyone who lights a fire in me recently.”
    “Lights a fire in you?” Becky laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, just get some coffee with someone, anyone. You need to stop being so picky.”
    “I’m picky for a reason. You of all people know how bad things got with Nick.”
    “I still can’t believe he was into all that voodoo magic stuff,” Becky said, looking at me apologetically.
    Finally I reached the W’s section and started flipping through the books.
    I could feel Becky’s eyes watching me carefully. “When I find someone worthwhile, then I’ll give it a chance,” I said to placate her.
    “Whatever you say.” Becky didn’t sound convinced.
    Taking one of the Walt Whitman collections off the shelf I skimmed through the cream colored pages. Becky’s phone went off and she pulled it out of her bag.
    “Shit, I totally forgot. Aaron’s coming into town and I’m supposed to meet him at my place,” Becky explained. She looked down at her watch. “Twenty minutes ago! Sorry, Violet, I’ve gotta run.” Becky exited the store as briskly as she could without breaking into a run.
    “See ya later. Tell Aaron I say hi!” I called after her.
    Becky waved her hand in acknowledgment and answered the phone.
    Aaron was Becky’s older brother. He came down from San Francisco every summer to visit and I’d grown close to him over the last couple of years. He was a good friend and always there to give you an honest male opinion whether you liked it or not.
    I put the book back on the shelf and pulled another one down to look through.
    “Violet?” a man’s voice asked behind me in a soft, cautious tone.
    Turning to see who had said my name I saw a man sitting in a plump leather chair with a book in his lap. His light blue button up shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and his well-muscled legs revealed him to be a tall man even though he was sitting. His hair was dark and wavy, parted to one side and styled like a suave Cary Grant. His warm eyes reminded me of melted dark chocolate as they stared into mine. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen outside of a magazine.
    Taken off guard, I mumbled, “Err… hi. How do you know my name?”
    He rose from the chair and walked toward me. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his fair skin. He’s not from around here , I thought. Even if you used sunscreen every day, you’d still have a golden tint to your skin.
    “I overheard you and your friend talking. She said your name as she was leaving. I’m Robert.” He extended his hand to shake mine.
    I placed my hand in his and he gave it a firm grip. His touch was soft and warm. The feel of his skin sent chills up my arm, the closeness of him heightening all my senses.
    This is ridiculous , I thought. I don’t even know this man and I feel like I’m going to start hyperventilating any minute.
    “Oh, well can I help you with something?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.
    “Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you? “He quoted, and then smiled a crooked smile that I assumed undid most women.
    “You know Walt Whitman?” I gave him a dubious look. Most people knew of the poet, but few could quote any of his work from memory.
    “Who doesn’t,” he said with a shrug. “I noticed you were holding a compilation of his works.” He grinned, amused by my expression, and pointed to the book in my hand.
    “Oh yeah. I’m trying to find a good collection of his work.” Handsome and smart, I thought, eying him.
    “Might I suggest you get this one?” He reached around me, placing his body inches from mine. I inhaled at the closeness and caught the sweet smell of his cologne mixed with the cool ocean air. I smiled in spite of myself as he pulled away with a leather-bound book in hand.
    I reached for the book, turning it over. I glanced up at him and his gaze caught mine. His