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Temra lets out a frustrated growl, but after what appears to be a mental argument with herself, she sighs. “Fine. Do what you will. But your handsome stranger might not be in town long. Just think about that. Now, I’m going to be late for class.”
She leaves me alone with my thoughts, and I pick back up the tune I’d started. It’s a love song, I think. Something Mother would sing to me when I was little. I don’t remember any of the words. Just the tune.
The doors open, and I look up, expecting Temra. “Did you forget something or are you back to make fun o—”
I drop the sword, but it isn’t followed by a clatter so much as ashink!
Instinctively, I look down—the broadsword landed point first, and it went right through the floor, stopping with the hilt protruding out of the ground.
My gaze flits madly between where the sword lies imbedded in the ground behind the front desk and the man who entered the shop.
My man.
No, notmyman.
Buttheman.
The golden-red-haired stranger with a longsword on his back.
“Sorry, should I have knocked? This is a shop, right? Not a private residence?”
His voice is like the deep cadence of water running over rock.
How is even the sound of his voice attractive? One shouldn’t be attracted to a voice, right? Maybe there is more wrong with me than I realized.
Or maybe there’s just something wrong with him. He shouldn’t exist. It isn’t right to look that perfect. Tosoundthat perfect.
I make the mistake of meeting his gaze. Never before have I looked away so quickly. I think my whole body has gone red, and I know he can see that. Which only makes me more embarrassed and awkwardand I want to be anywhere else.
After a silence that progresses too long, he says, “I’m here to see the blacksmith. Is Ziva in? I was hoping to commission a longsword.”
Why didn’t I put the sign out that says the shop is closed? I do that when Temra leaves for school, but I was too busy…
Thinking abouthim. Humming ridiculous love songs!
“Maybe I could leave a message for her? Or come back later?”
“No!” I say at last.
And then I want to impale myself on the sword. Except that it’s stuck in the ground.
“No to the message or to coming back later?”
“Both.”
“Am I in the wrong place?” He does a sweep of the shop, taking in all the weapons on the walls.
“No.”
“Is Ziva closed to commissions right now? Because I’m certain I can make it worth her while. I came a very long way just to see her.”
My heart skips a beat at those words. He came a long way to see me?
Of course he did.You make magical weapons. He wants a weapon. A million customers have said this to me before, but this one… makes my heart do strange things.
I’m torn between trying to come up with something—anything—to say to this man and deciding whether or not to attempt to retrieve the sword. This likely results in me looking awkwardly hunched from what the stranger can see of me on the other side of the counter.
“Are you… all right?” he asks.
