Page 18 of Dream Weaver (Spellbound in Sedona #3)

ABBY

“You’re sure?” I asked, holding my daughter’s hands.

“I’m sure, Mommy.” She tugged away impatiently. “We’re having pizza and everything.”

It was 3:20 the next afternoon — a Friday — and school was letting out. No Jay in sight, thank goodness, though I had brought Cooper with me, just in case.

But I hadn’t popped over from the shop to pick up Claire, only to see her off.

“It will be fine, I promise,” Lana Hawthorne, one of the top-ranking wolves from Twin Moon Ranch, assured me with a warm smile.

We’d only met a few months before, but our daughters had become fast friends, and they’d been planning a sleepover for weeks.

I promise it will be fine, too, Lana’s big, badass mate, Ty Hawthorne, echoed with a thunderous look.

Their home was a forty-minute drive away, and unlike our modest property — population six — Twin Moon Ranch was a huge place packed with over a hundred shifters. Most were tough-as-nails wolves willing to battle for life and love, as they’d proven over a few tumultuous years. Things had calmed down since then, and strong leadership had allowed the pack to prosper. More than a ranch, the place was a community with business interests across the state.

Jealous? Maybe a little. But our tiny setup suited me fine, especially since my ambitions only extended to peace .

Cooper stood beside me, hands shoved deep into his pockets, quiet as a mouse. A six-foot-two mouse whose bulk more than made up for Ty’s greater height.

A damn good thing they were allies, not enemies. My allies.

My heart warmed, and my grip on Claire’s hands loosened. She would be as safe — or safer — on Twin Moon Ranch than at home. She had also slept long and peacefully, waking without a trace of the fear Jay had left her with.

She hadn’t reported any dreams, but hey. A good night’s sleep was miracle enough after what she’d been through. So, why ruin her chance at a sleepover with a friend?

“Sorry. Just being clingy, I guess.” I kissed Claire, hugged her, kissed her again for luck, then hugged her…

“Mom…” she protested.

I forced myself to step back. “Have fun, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye!” she called, running toward the Hawthornes’ Jeep Wagoneer.

“Love you,” I called past the lump in my throat.

“Love you too.” Claire waved happily.

I stood stiffly, reminding myself to let my daughter live the normal childhood I’d once dreamed of, with a good home, friends…even sleepovers. Stability, in a word.

I waved a long time after the Hawthornes’ Jeep disappeared down the school drive.

“Come on.” Cooper tapped my shoulder softly.

My feet were stuck in tar, or so it seemed, but with a great deal of willpower, I managed to shuffle away. It helped that Cooper took my hand and tugged.

He didn’t tease or make light of it all. He just nudged me along like an old horse. The metal shop was only a seven-minute drive, and we were quiet the whole time. The quietest we’d been all day, actually, since we’d spent most of it hammering at metal.

Well, Cooper had hammered. I’d done more slamming and banging. But, hey. It got the job done.

So, I picked up where I’d left off when we returned. Seventeen axes done, only three to go. We really were on a roll.

Normal closing time was five, but I was close to finishing the latest ax head, so I stayed in the shop long after Walt and the others had gone. Cooper stuck by me, faithful as an old hound, and by six p.m., our tally was up to eighteen ax heads.

“Looks good,” Cooper murmured, turning our latest masterpiece under a light.

“That handle looks good,” I emphasized.

Good was an understatement. Cooper had spent the previous afternoon — the one I’d taken off — crafting handles for our axes. He might not be a metal master yet, but he sure could work wood.

I ran a finger along the grip. “Really. It’s so smooth, and you got the fit just right.”

A proud twinkle lit his eye, though he shrugged off the compliment. “The whole ax looks good. Feels good, too.” He weighed it in one hand, then passed it back to me.

I gave it a swing. “Perfect, if I may say so myself.”

Cooper stuck up a hand. “High five.”

I laughed and reached up — way up — to smack his hand. “Good job.”

I looked at the clock, then at the next half-crafted ax head, estimating how long that might take.

Cooper must have read me like a book, because he winced.

“You go,” I urged him. “I’ll just get started on the next one.”

He mulled it over, then shook his head. “Nah. Got nothing much to do tonight anyway.”

Ha. Sedona wasn’t big on nightlife, but a young, good-looking firefighter could still find plenty of fun — and plenty of women to have fun with — on a Friday night.

I, on the other hand, was a single mom. Quiet nights in were my norm.

But Cooper refused to leave. In fact, he gave every impression of having a good reason to stay.

I couldn’t help entertaining the fantasy that that reason might be me.

We kept the big rear doors open, the better to see another spectacular Sedona sunset, with rays of orange and red illuminating the sky. We kept them open a while after that, because the stars were a treat too. By seven, Orion was high and bright, perfectly framed by the doors. Cooper had another handle finished, and I had made great progress on the next ax head.

“Takeout?” he suggested when we both paused. “My treat?”

“My treat,” I insisted.

The fifteen minutes he was away to pick it up seemed like a lifetime in the desert — long and empty. I stood in the garage-sized doors, thinking of Claire…and trying not to think of Jay or Liselle. With a shiver, I retreated inside, intent on finishing that ax head.

“Okay, boss. Dinnertime,” Cooper called a short time later.

With him around, the whole shop seemed brighter and cheerier, like the colorful bag from the Cactus & Curry Thai restaurant.

I threw Cooper a smile, then turned back to my anvil. “I’ll be right there. Almost done.”

“My uncle always says that. You know what my aunt says?”

“What?”

Cooper gave me a pointed look. “ Almost done is the best place to quit for the night. It makes starting the next morning that much easier.”

I laughed. “Very wise. But seriously, I’m really close.”

“My uncle says that too,” he sighed, sounding a little…exasperated.

I stared at the ax head, knowing exactly where the next few blows would go. But my heart thumped in warning. I stood to finish one ax or lose a friend. Which was more important?

I put down my hammer and flicked off the forge.

“Sorry. I’ll be right there.” I untied my apron to show him I meant it.

As I scrubbed my hands, Cooper dragged something across the floor to one of the rear doors. Then he scurried back and forth a few times. What was he up to?

Leaving the bathroom, I stepped to the shop’s kitchenette, but it was empty. I shifted my gaze toward the rear doors, and—

My breath caught.

“Okay with you?” Cooper asked.

He’d pulled a workbench to the threshold and set out dinner there. And not just dinner.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, taking in the flickering candles, yellow placemats, and purple napkins, all under a backdrop of the starry night.

He blushed. “The guy in the restaurant insisted on throwing all this in.”

“He did not.”

“He did!” Cooper swore. “He said, life is short, so live big.”

“Smart man,” I murmured while making an inner pledge to send all my future takeout business, modest as it was, to the Cactus & Curry.

“Not too chilly here?” Cooper asked.

I shook my head. Not with happy vibes warming my body and soul. “All good.”

I sat slowly, soaking it all in. When was the last time someone had treated me to something like this?

Well, Claire sometimes did, with handcrafted notes and baked goods Pippa helped her with. My sisters and their fathers were great about making a big deal out of my birthday, too.

I gulped, reminding myself how lucky I was.

Still, the point remained. When was the last time someone outside the family had done something like this for me?

“Chicken mango for you…” Cooper handed over my order. “Beef stir fry for me…” Then he set out a tiny wine bottle. “Non-alcoholic. You’ll have to excuse the juice glasses, though.”

Ha. It beat drinking out the bottle, as Jay would have done.

I frowned, then banished the man from my mind.

When Cooper took a seat, we raised our glasses.

“To…uh…” His eyes twinkled, but he held back whatever he’d meant to say.

To hell with the red list, my gut said. To big guys with big hearts and a soft touch.

To us, Cooper’s eyes said.

Outside, cicadas chirped, and the stars shone bright.

“To living big,” I whispered at last.

He touched his glass to mine, making it ring. The sound hung in the night, as clear and pure as the desert air. Our eyes met, and seconds ticked by. Then Cooper reached for his fork.

“Well, dig in, I guess.”

Amen , the never-sated corner of my mind said, and I did.

Dinner was delicious, and Cooper was gracious enough not to comment that I gulped my food down like a starved wolf. But, hey. He shoveled his down pretty quickly too.

I pictured a big family around a big dining table, and for once, I wasn’t jealous. Just glad Cooper had gotten that.

Then I thought of his brother, and my heart ached.

My eyes darted to my workbench and the almost-finished ax. My fingers twitched, and I burned to run over and release that burst of magic — or determination, or whatever it was — into the ax.

Instead, I took a deep breath, trying to capture the feeling. I couldn’t count on luck to forge “lucky” axes. I had to learn to control and apply my own magic reliably, as my stepfathers had once advised. At the time, I’d refused to listen. But when I thought about what good magic could achieve when applied carefully…

I dragged my mind back to the present. The Cactus & Curry guy was right. Life was short, and I had to live big. That meant enjoying every moment of fine dining under the stars.

And enjoy, I did. More than I’d enjoyed anything in a long, long time. I savored every bite of sweet mango sauce over chicken and rice. I laughed at the stories Cooper shared long after we leaned away from our empty plates.

The candle closest to Cooper flickered, highlighting his lips. The next time it flickered, it illuminated his eyes. They glowed brighter than ever, a sure sign of his shifter side.

A side I yearned to meet, because that was part of him too.

“Oh! Look!” Cooper pointed to the stars.

A shooting star flashed across the sky, and we jumped to our feet.

“There — another one!” I said, standing just outside the shop doors. “Quick. Make a wish.”

I thought for a moment, then decided not to make one. Enough wishes had come true for me, and asking for more might be asking too much.

I glanced at Cooper, wondering what his wish was.

Oops. He was looking at me, his eyes glowing ultra bright.

And, oh. We’d ended up standing pretty close. Nice and close, actually.

“Such a clear night,” I murmured, just to have something to say.

He nodded absently. “Beautiful.”

The big wall clock behind him ticked, telling me it was getting late. But for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have anyone to rush home to. On the contrary, I had good company right here. Someone I was tempted to stay with.

Very, very tempted.

So tempted, I slid a little closer. And closer…

The candles ought to have been burning low by then, but they flared high and bright, waving like so many flags.

Cooper’s hands found mine. His lips moved.

I held my breath, then told myself, Yes . With no one waiting for me at home, and someone I could trust right here, right now…

Cooper’s lips moved again — this time moving over mine.

Within the space of a few heartbeats, I’d melted in his arms, and those candles were dancing wildly.