“I’m good at helping people find their strengths.” She huffed a bitter laugh. “Ironic, since I can’t seem to pinpoint my own path.” She ticked off on her fingers. “The literacy program in Seattle, the domestic violence shelter in Olympia, even the art therapy project in Eugene, they were all tangled up in rules and tight budgets. It’s so frustrating when you’re not allowed to do the right thing.”
“So you came back here?”
She nodded. “Trappers Cove is so soothing. And I always feel at home in your shop.”
Zora squeezed her hand. “You’re always welcome, dear heart, and I’m grateful for your help.”
Gemma traced the cards with her forefinger. “At least no one’s throwing rules and regulations across your path.”
Zora threw her head back and gave a hearty laugh. “Selling crystals and incense to tourists isn’t exactly changing the world, darling.”
“Don’t belittle what you do, Auntie. All this—” She waved her hand, taking in the crystals, books, figurines, herbs, potions—“helps people see themselves and the world more clearly. Maybe this is what I’m meant to do too. I just need to find my angle.”
“Nothing wrong with being a generalist, especially for someone like you who’s fascinated by everything.”
“Thanks, Auntie. I’ll think on that.” As usual, Zora’s insight pierced Gemma’s navel-gazing bullshit. She pushed her chair back. “Tell you what. Before we start planning for the Expo, let’s smudge away stagnant energy from the old year. We need to clear new psychic pathways.”
“Good idea, but I’ve already sold all my sage bundles.” Zora glanced toward the door. “The herb guy is coming today.”
“You sure? It’s almost closing time.”
Zora grinned. “Jesse’s as dependable as the tides. He’ll be here.”
Chapter Two
Thebrassdoorbelltinkledas Jesse backed into Zora’s shop cradling a carton of herbs the coastal wind seemed hell-bent on scattering. That happy jingle always brought a smile to his lips. Even though he didn’t believe in all this woo-woo, new age bullshit, entering the hippie-dippy emporium was like getting a warm hug from a favorite auntie—one who smelled of patchouli and tea. Zora’s place was a riot of color, full of funny, funky oddities like the fat, grinning Buddha perched on a burbling fountain beside the door. Or the dragon figurines glowering over their hoard of incense sticks. Or the display of tie-dyed socks.
His grin slipped when a stunning woman stepped from behind the wooden screen and froze, her plush mouth open, her eyes wide. A nagging sense of recognition tickled his memory—and his body. Where had he met her before? His skin prickled as he searched her face for clues, eerily certain they’d shared something momentous. Then it clicked.
The girl from the beach. She was back again—older now, but with the same tawny hair that fell in heavy waves, the same piercing eyes whose colors shifted with the light, the same tilt of her head like a clever bird who saw right through him. His heart gave a powerful thump, then kicked into overdrive.
Zora followed the beauty, her batik tunic billowing as she trotted toward him. “See, I told you,” she called over her shoulder.
“Pardon?” He blinked rapidly, his feet rooted to the floor.
The old hippie mama beamed. “Jesse, you remember my niece Gemma, don’t you?”
How could he ever forget?
Like the big, goofy teen he was when they first met, he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “You look different, Gemma. Your hair was longer last time, with purple tips, right? And you didn’t have that squiggle tattoo on your hand.”
She peered up at him through narrowed eyes. More green than blue today, they showed zero sign of recognition. That stung.
Stepping closer, she raised her slender hand and tapped the parallel zigzag lines. “Aquarius, my star sign. What’s yours?”
Her nearness made his tongue thick and his brain sluggish. She smelled of lilacs and lemon verbena, like springtime on his gramps’ farm. His farm now, though six months in, he still couldn’t get used to thinking of it that way.
“Jesse’s a Taurus.” Zora patted his shoulder, took the delivery from his arms, and set it on the counter. “A classic example. Strong, steady, stubborn, and sensual.”
His cheeks flushed hot enough to fry an egg.
“And he has the perfect Taurus name—del Toro.”
Gemma tapped her pursed lips. “Why does that sound so familiar?” Just like all those years ago, her sexy pout spun his thoughts into a dizzy spiral of want and need.
Her ocean eyes crinkled. “Wait, didn’t I see your name on the way to Westport? A farm stand or something?”
“Del Toro Botanicals,” he croaked.
