Ava
Clutching my recent candle purchase against my chest, I can’t fight the grin as I exit Bendy Bodies, the yoga studio where I just had my Tarot reading. The woman I met with, Clementine Valentine—I love the way her name rhymes—seemed super excited over what my cards revealed. She said I was entering into a new phase of my life where everything I’ve been manifesting is finally coming to fruition. And better still, she said she sees a meeting of twin flames in my near future.
Twin flames!
Those are even better than soulmates, and I feel like I could just kick up my heels and squeal with delight over how excited I am.
And before you even think it, yes, I know that Tarot isn’t an exact fortune telling science—if there is such a term. And I know it’s wildly open to interpretation and that some people think it’s just a bunch of phony hocus pocus. But to me, it brings great comfort. I strongly believe that if I can visualize something enough, I can will it into existence. Which is exactly what I’ve been trying to do for my love life.
Well, my non-existent love life. Seems I’m rather…picky when it comes to men. Or so I’m told, anyway.
Still, the one thing I want more than anything in this world is a man who loves me. All of me. Not just my personality. Not just my ‘pretty face’. And certainly not my ‘potential’ if I were to drop about a hundred pounds—all of me. Every last curve and roll that I have covering my five-foot-seven frame. He doesn’t have to be a model himself. But he does have to be decent and good, willing to put in the effort and easy enough on the eye that I’m also attracted to him. I don’t care if he’s tall, short, fit, thin or big like me. I just need to feel a connection with him. I want to be loved by a man who thinks I’m beautiful and perfect from the moment he locks eyes with mine. Is that too much to ask?
I don’t think it is. And I know he’s out there. Deep down in my soul, I feel that there’s someone else in this world feeling just as lonesome for me as I am for them. The tricky part, of course, is finding him. But that’s where Clementine comes in.
You see, I like to think that the universe gives us signs. And a few months ago, when I was trying to buy my favorite Bed, Bath and Body Works candle scent, it turned out they discontinued the line. This sent me searching for the next best scent. I ordered candles from big chains and little specialty stores, and it was the Whisper Valley scented candle that had my senses calming and singing all at the same time. It’s so hard to explain exactly how it smelled, but the scent felt so familiar. Like the comfort of a family Christmas or the fresh-baked bread from your favorite bakery, or…like home.
The packaging promised that the candle smelled exactly like the little town itself. So when I looked it up and found it wasn’t far from Sugar City, I knew that I had to come and experience that scent in full HD.
I’ve only been in Whisper Valley for a couple of days, but oh my lanta! It even feels like home. It’s like a Hallmark small town where everyone is welcoming and kind, and I honestly don’t want to leave.
Pity I have to be back at work in Sugar City come Monday. Sitting and typing code into a computer day in day out is nowhere as soul-satisfying as being surrounded by nature. I really got into the wrong business, and if it wasn’t for the mountain of student debt I’ve got on my plate, I’d toss it all away to become a bread artisan or something fancy like that.
Sighing to myself, I balance both candles in one arm and unlock my car door, getting into my Prius as graciously as I can before starting her up. It’s getting close to dinner time, and the AirBnB I’ve rented is about half a mile from a bar and grill called Valentine’s. I haven’t been in there yet, because I was worried that with it being on the outskirts of town, it’d be more like one of those roadhouses filled with bikers and unsavory types like in the movies. But Clementine assured me it’s the place to be for anyone over twenty-one in Whisper Valley. Her cousins-in-law run it, and every Wednesday night is ladies’ night. So I’ve already made an executive decision to dine there tonight.
Maybe that’s where my twin flame will be?
With the two new ‘Whisper Valley’ scented candles—Clementine is also the one who made them—secured in the seat beside me, I flick on my indicator and hum a happy tune as I pull out into the street. I’d prefer it if I had music instead of my own humming, but my radio went and broke on me a few weeks back, so now all I have is the jukebox worth of songs in my head to listen to. Which is probably just as well, because I can’t turn the volume up on that, so when I accidentally go backward into the car behind me instead of forward into the street like I meant to, I very clearly hear the crunching of metal on metal and hit the brakes hard.
“Oh shit.” I close my eyes and take a calming breath.
Please tell me I didn’t just hear what I think I heard.
Shifting forward slightly, I shut off the engine and get out of the car, trying my best to ignore the curious glances from passersby as I assess the damage. My little red hatchback now has the perfect imprint from the front bumper of the blue Ford pick-up behind me. The Ford, however, has little more than a few bright-red paint scrapes embedded in its paintjob. I sigh as I look at my Prius. They just don’t make cars as sturdy as they used to.
Despite the minimal damage done to the truck, I can’t in good conscience just get in my car and drive away. So, I grab a notepad and pen from the glove compartment and scribble out an apology with my cell number on it. Then I fold it in half and slide it under the front wiper.
Except the wiper comes right off in my hand.
“Shoot.” This really isn’t my finest moment.
Going back to my car, I scrawl a promise to pay for the wiper repair too, then decide using the other wiper to hold the note in place is a bad idea since I’ll likely tear that one off too.
Returning to my car, I grab one of the heavy candles and place it in plain view on the hood of the truck on the driver’s side, note underneath. Then I tell myself that’s the best I can do as I dust off my hands and turn to go back to my car. Which is precisely when I run into a wall of man.
“What the hell are you doing to my truck?”
Duke
A head full of curls collides with my face as I inhale, smothering me as they tangle with my stubble. To make matters worse the owner of said curls has somehow managed to headbutt me in the throat. I’m desperate and gasping for air but that just makes things worse by sucking the curls deeper into my mouth. I think this might be the way I die.
Reflexively, I place my hands on the shoulders of my assailant and shove, coughing and spluttering as air rushes into my lungs.
“Stay back,” she yells, spinning what looks like a car’s wiper like it’s a set of nunchucks. “I know self-defense, and I’m not afraid to use this against you.”
“Whoa there, kitten,” I say holding my hands out, so she doesn’t slash me with the broken metal. “Retract those claws. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
She frowns slightly as she holds the wiper still between us. “Then why did you push me?”
“I was suffocating in your hair,” I say scrubbing a hand down my overgrown facial hair and finding a few strands of platinum-blonde curls. “See? I’m going to be shitting your hair for a week.”
“Oh gosh. I’m sorry. Is this your truck?” she thumbs over her shoulder.
“It is. Is that your candle?” I ask of the large glass jar filled with wax and rocks that is sitting on my hood.
“Well, technically it’s yours now. Consider it an apology for hitting your car.”
My brow shoots up. “You hit my truck?”
“Yeah.” She winces. “But I swear I’ll pay to fix it. Somehow.” That last word is said under her breath as she looks away, and it makes me look at her a little closer. She’s young—maybe mid-twenties at most—around five-seven in height, blonde shoulder-length hair and wide brown eyes, freckles across the top of her nose and curves that are likely to show up in my dreams later tonight. I look away and frown. I shouldn’t be thinking with my dick so soon after choking like that.
“Show me,” I grunt out.
She blinks, seemingly unsure what I’m talking about. “How I’m gonna pay?”
“No. The damage. Show it to me.”
“Well…” She hands the broken wiper to me first. “There’s that. But I did that leaving the note about the first problem.”
“Jesus,” I say, following her around to the front of my vehicle.
“This is where I backed into you.” She gestures to the bumper where there’s a slight dent and some red paint mixed in with my blue paint.
I run my thumbnail over it. It’ll be easy enough to buff out. “Don’t worry about it.”
She pulls her head back. “Don’t worry? Sir, I damaged your car and the least I can do is pay and make it right.”
“I don’t need you to.”
Her mouth opens then closes. “You don’t… Why?”
“Because from the looks of things, your car took the damage. Not mine. And the damage I did take, I can fix myself.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. And I can fix your car too if you need a good deal.” I reach into my back pocket and pull a card out of my wallet. “I own the garage over on Wattle Street. Stop by anytime and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
She takes the card from my hand like she’s afraid I’m going to jump at her and yell ‘surprise, motherfucker!’. And when she plucks it safely from my grip, she lets out an audible sigh.
“Small-town hospitality is an actual thing, huh?”
I look her up and down as I nod, refusing to speak in case my thoughts fall out of my mouth. This offer has nothing to do with small town hospitality and everything to do with the way my body reacts to the shape of her. Call me crazy, but I feel like this woman is supposed to be in my life. Like she’s the salve to my loneliness, the woman I’ve always been told was out there waiting for me—just for me. It’s a difficult feeling to explain.
“OK. Well, I guess I’ll see you soon then,” she says, sliding the card into her pocket. “I’m Ava, by the way.” She holds out her hand to shake mine.
“Duke,” I say, wrapping my hand around hers and getting a kick out of the size difference. I dwarf her.
“Duke,” she repeats, her voice a little breathy as she smiles up at me. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Any time, kitten. You show up and I’ll be waitin’.”
She giggles. “Enjoy your, uh, candle.” She nods toward my current hood ornament as she extracts her hand from mine. I want to hold onto it again.
“I’m sure I will. You drive safe, now.”
“OK,” she says, taking a few steps toward her car before stopping abruptly and turning back. “Can I ask you something?”
I grin. “Of course.”
“Did we just…” She rolls her lips together like she’s not sure she wants to let her next words out. “Did we just share a moment?”
Swiping a hand across my chin, I let out a chuckle. “I believe we did.”
“Oh good. It wasn’t just me then.”
“Definitely not just you.”
“Would it be too forward if I asked you to dinner tonight? It’s fine if you say no, it’s just that—”
“I’d love to have dinner with you.”
Her face lights up. “Valentine’s? Eight o’clock?”
“I’ll be there.”
“OK then.” She lets out a happy sigh along with her words. “It’s a date.”
I give her a nod and as she gets into her car, I make sure to keep my eyes on her every movement, enjoying the sway of her ass and the awkward way she gets into her car when she realizes I’m still watching. She gives me a little wave as she drives away, and just after I do the same, I pick up that candle she left for me, pocketing the note with her number as I read the label on the side. The scent of Whisper Valley. Holding it to my nose, I inhale nice and deep. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it smells like…
***
“Nothing,” my sister hands the candle back to me while crinkling her nose up and shaking her head.
“What are you talking about? It smells of something.” I hold it to my nose and inhale again. “It’s something familiar, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.” It’s like an autumn breeze or a home cooked meal or an outdoor cookout on a summer’s day. I know that’s an odd way to describe a scent, but it evokes all those memories in me. I just can’t pinpoint exactly what it is that’s making the smell.
“Maybe if I light it?” Dottie says, taking the candle back from me and walking it over to the mantle in her old farmhouse. It’s been a labor of love restoring it—something I’ve been helping with ever since I got laid off from my old job and she convinced me to move out to Whisper Valley and open a shop of my own—but it’s starting to look more like a home than a construction site. We now have a complete living area and kitchen to use, but the rest of the place is still a work in progress. Her goal is to get the attached vineyard to flourish again so she can produce her own wine and open the grounds as a function center.
Dottie clicks the stick lighter, and the candle wicks lights up, its soft glow hitting the odd-looking stones embedded in the wax and throwing different colors.
“I still can’t smell a damn thing, but those stones are cool. What are they?”
“I’m guessing they’re just something from around here,” I say, watching her as she reads the label.
“Looks that way. But I’ve never seen them before. You’d think with all the work I’ve done on this place, I’d have come across one by now. They’re cool.”
“You can dig one out if you want. Hell, when the candle melts down, you can have them all.”
“I just might take you up on that,” she says, centering the candle then stepping away from it. “Who did you say this was from?”
“I didn’t,” I say, quirking a brow at my nosy sibling. “But since you’ll likely find out anyway with the way this town gossips, I’m having dinner tonight with a woman named Ava.”
Dottie’s face lights up. “A girl gave you this candle?”
I grunt. “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just dinner.”
“Still…” She follows me as I move into the laundry room in search of clean clothes. “This is progress, big brother. You haven’t been on a date since—”
“I’m aware, Dottie,” I warn, giving her a look that says I have no desire to rehash my past. I like that shit boxed up and left to history where it belongs.
"I’m just so excited for you.” I can hear the dreaminess in her voice and fight a smile. I can lie to her, but I can’t lie to myself. After meeting Ava earlier, I kind of have my hopes up here too. But I’m concerned about dating again. Hearts can only crack so many times before they’re permanently broken. “What’s she like?”
“I don’t really know. We met for maybe five minutes.”
“What were your first impressions then?”
I turn and lean against the dryer and fold my arms. “Cute, great smile. She had a great energy about her.” I chuckle as I remember the way she tried to use my broken wiper as a weapon. “She wanted to fight me.”
“Fight you?” Dottie’s eyes bug out. “Dear brother, what are you getting yourself into?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. But I’m looking forward to finding out.”
Ava
I tried on every single outfit in my suitcase before settling on a long peach-colored dress that has long sleeves and a V-neck. It says more ‘summer stroll through the market’ than ‘dinner at a roadside bar and grill’, but when a girl is far from home, she doesn’t have a lot of clothing choices.
When I step my sandled feet onto the wooden floor of Valentines, I’m instantly hit with the sound of happy chatter and the scent of meat on the grill and beer on tap. Music floats out of a jukebox sitting at the far end of a tiny dance floor, and the general air of the place is one of fun. Seems this really is the place to be.
“Somethin’ I can help you with, sweetheart?” a giant man with a bushy beard and piercing green eyes asks from behind the bar. He’s drying glasses as I move toward him while taking a quick look around to see if my date is already here. He’s not.
“I’m, um, supposed to be meeting someone for dinner. It’s a date, actually,” I say, keeping my voice down because I have this deep-seeded fear that I’m going to get stood up. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Good for you. Well, I know just about every man in town—and woman, if that’s your preference—so if you give me their name, I can tell you if I’ve seen them.”
“Oh, I only know his first name. But it’s not too common. Do you know a guy called Duke? He said he runs the garage in town.”
“Duke Fox. Good man. Helped me out when my axle got a crack in it last month. But I haven’t seen him today.”
“Oh, that’s OK. I’m early, anyway,” I say, looking at the wall clock above the bar behind his head. It’s seven-forty-five. I’m way early.
“Can I get you a drink while you wait?”
“Um, OK.”
“What’ll it be?”
“What’s the nicest tasting drink you have that isn’t too strong.”
He grins. “You’ll want to talk to my brother, Remy, for that.” He turns his head and lets out a whistle, summoning a darker-haired version of himself to his side. I’m taken aback by how gorgeous these bartenders are. There must be something in the Whisper Valley water supply.
“What’s up?” Remy asks.
“Our guest here would like something sweet but not too strong.”
“Any particular flavor?” He directs that at me.
“Anything fruity.”
“Coming right up,” he says, giving me a dazzling grin before turning and walking to the opposite side of the bar.
“Why don’t you take a seat in that vacant booth over there, and I’ll get someone to bring it over to you?”
“OK. But I haven’t paid.”
“And you’re not going to. Consider this a welcome to Whisper Valley. First drink is on the house.”
“That’s so kind of you. Thanks, er…”
“Kellen.” He smiles and holds out his hand.
“Ava. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Enjoy your date.”
Giving him a grin, I hold up my hand and show him my crossed fingers before I head toward the booth he indicated.
“One fruity, low-alcohol cocktail for our newest resident of Whisper Valley,” a smiling blonde says as she sets a highball filled with bright orange liquid with a wedge of pineapple on the side. “I’m Jade. Kellen’s wife. Seeing you sitting here waiting for a date has got me all nostalgic for the night I met my man.”
“Oh, hi Jade. I’m Ava, but I’m not a resident. Just visiting.” I take a sip of the drink and nod approvingly. “That’s delicious.”
“Remy made it special for you. He has a knack of knowing just what to give someone. You had your cards read by Clementine today, right?”
“Um, yes,” I say, drawing out the word because I’m not sure how she knows that.
“I’m not being creepy. She’s my sister-in-law. Well, kind of—she’s married to Kellen’s cousin. So whatever that makes her is what she is. And, anyway, that’s how I know.”
“She told you about my reading?”
“Oh gosh, no! I’m messing this up. She told me about the candles. And I might also know about the accident between your car and Duke’s truck.” She winces. “Small town.”
“News travels fast around here, hey?”
She laughs. “You have no idea.” Her eyes lift from me to the door, and her expression brightens. “Looks like your date is here. Hopefully we’ll meet again,” she says, lifting her hand to give Duke a wave before she leaves to join her husband behind the bar.
“I see you’re already meeting the locals,” Duke says, his deep voice a rumbly perfection as he approaches. I stand to greet him.
“She was just keeping me company. I was early.”
He chuckles and nods toward the bar clock. Seven-fifty-five. “Me too.”
I blush harder than I’ve ever blushed before and giggle in a way that seems foreign to me. This man just seems too good to be true. Tall, dark hair, muscular and broad. He makes me feel tiny even though I’m far from it, and when he leans in to greet me with a kiss on the cheek, he pauses to inhale, and my knees almost give way.
“You smell amazing,” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I say like a blithering idiot. “I mean, thanks.”
My cheeks burn as we move to sit opposite each other in the booth. Duke shifts a little to get comfortable, but then he frowns and stands again.
“Is something wrong?”
“I think I’d feel better if I was sitting next to you instead of across.”
“OK,” I say, beaming as I shift across and he slides in next to me, our thighs pressing up against each other, my soft against his hard. Why does this feel so…hot?
“This isn’t normal for me,” he says rather suddenly. “I don’t…date.”
My eyebrows lift, curiously keeping my flattery at bay. “Then why are you on a date with me?”
He looks at me—no, he studies me—then he grins and shakes his head. “Because I haven’t shared a moment with a wiper wielding spitfire before, either. I guess you could say you’ve intrigued me.”
“Even though I reversed into your car and broke the wiper from it?”
“Sometimes things happen for a reason. Perhaps the point of you backing into my truck was so you’d still be there when I got back.”
“So what you’re saying is that the two of us meeting was some kind of kismet?”
“I’m willing to find that out if you are.”
I couldn’t even hide my grin if I tried. “Willing and ready.”
Duke
“It’s after midnight,” Dottie says in an excited rush as I enter the door. “Tell me everything. Are you in lurve?” She giggles after drawing out that last word then the expression on her face drops when I step into the light of the kitchen and take my coat off. “Is that…blood?”
“It’s not mine.”
“Then whose? Marmaduke Arthur Fox, were you in a fight?”
“No, the blood is hers. And don’t call me Marmaduke, you know how much I hate that.”
“At least you got named after the main character. I got named after the mother who no one ever remembers.”
“At least she’s human, and you weren’t teased about it all your life.”
“I’ll give you that. But don’t go changing the subject. What happened to your date?”
I look at her for a moment then decide to refrain from pointing out exactly who went off on a comic-related tangent. “She got hit in the face by a swinging door as we were leaving. Slammed her straight in the nose, and there was blood everywhere.”
Her hand covers her mouth as she gasps. “No way. Is it broken?”
“I don’t think so. The owner’s wife kind of swooped in and took care of everything.”
Her brow shoots up. “You left her there?”
“What? No. I’m not a total asshole. I felt like I was completely in the way, but I stuck around until the wife drove her home, and the husband followed behind in her car. Once they were gone, and I was sure she was fine, then I left.”
“What a horrible end to a date.”
I sit down and start unlacing my boots. “The whole entire thing was awful if I’m honest.”
“You didn’t get along?”
“She’s amazin’. But…”
“But what?”
“I’m over-the-top attracted to her, but I’m not sure we have nothing in common. The only thing we seemed to agree on is the smell of that damn candle. Everything else, we’re total opposites.”
“In what way?”
“For starters, I’m into cars and she’s into meditation. I read the newspaper, and she reads romance novels. I like waking up and seeing where my day takes me, and she likes taking advice from a deck of cards with pictures on them. I just…” I let out a sigh and shake my head. “If I’m honest, the thing that’s really getting to me is her age. I’m far too old for her being forty-eight to her twenty-nine.”
“Nineteen years. It’s not so bad.”
“It will be in ten years’ time when I’m pushing sixty, and she’s only your age now.”
Dottie sighs. “So that’s your big issue. She makes you feel old?”
Kicking both my boots off and shoving them under the table, I lean back in my chair, and it creaks from my movement. “Old, out of touch, set in my ways. She’s a breath of fresh air and most of the time I smell like an oil pit. And the way she talks about the things she enjoys…” I think back to the way her face lit up as she described how the energy from crystals and the guidance of Tarot led her to making this trip to Whisper Valley. It was at that moment that I decided she was too good for me. Too good for anyone, really. She’s one of those people with a spirit that’s meant to be wild, free and unburdened. The last thing I ever want to do is weigh a woman as pure as Ava down. Despite my attraction to her, I have no right to be part of that young woman’s life. I’ll hurt her spirit, of that, I’m sure. “I’m just not the man for her,” I finish.
Dottie picks up her mug of tea and takes a sip. “Sounds like that date wasn’t so bad if you can look past all that self-deprecation.”
“I’m just being realistic here.”
“I guess that means you won’t be seeing her again?”
“Even if I wanted to, she’s leaving town on Tuesday.”
“You’re not going to stop by and at least see how her face is after getting attacked by a door?”
“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I really wasn’t much of a date. Poor girl had to do all the talkin’ while I just sat there realizing she’s too good for me.”
“From what I’m getting here, you sat and quietly listened to her talk about the things she loves, right?”
“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to bore her with—”
“Then I think you’ll find you were an amazing date,” she says, smiling as she gets up from her chair and places her mug in the sink. “I think you’re letting old wounds guide the voices in your head. You aren’t boring. You aren’t too old, and you have so much good to offer a woman.” I scoff and turn away, but she walks back over to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “I know it’s hard for you to put yourself out there again, but I think you should at least go check if she’s OK. She’s probably embarrassed and feeling incredibly sorry for herself. And really, what do you have to lose?”
“The last shred of self-worth I have when she rejects me for being boring and old.”
“Sounds to me like you’re just being a big ole scaredy cat, big brother. And if I remember correctly, it was you who said when I was unsure about buying this place that if I never take a risk, I’ll never reap the rewards.”
“Doesn’t sound like me.”
She laughs. “Well, it was you. So maybe you should take your own advice. I have a good feeling about this girl even if you don’t.” Dropping a kiss on my cheek, she says her goodnight and shuffles off to bed, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the echoes of Ava’s laughter drowning out the constant memories of my past. Maybe I should stop by and check on her?
