Wild Warrior (The Weavers Circle 2)

“Where’s Willie?” Baer asked.

He accepted Wiley’s glass of iced water and a beer from Clay, carrying them over to the table. Without thinking, he placed them in the open seats next to each other. He paused as he looked at them. It wasn’t like Wiley had to sit next to him. The artist didn’t belong to him the same way Dane and Clay belonged together. But then, since he’d been the one to bring Wiley to the house, he couldn’t help feeling responsible for the guy. And it would probably be far too overwhelming to be placed between any of the aunts.

He glanced over and spotted a strange smirk on Grey’s lips, but the writer was always smirking about something.

“Willie is picking some wildflowers for the table. She’ll be along shortly,” Jo said. After Wiley got a hug from Flo, which was shocking in itself, she brought him over to the table and sat him where Baer had already placed the water.

“Do you all do this often? Have big dinners?” Wiley inquired as he picked up his glass and took a sip.

“Not often,” Grey murmured.

“Not as often as we should,” Jo corrected.

The Soul Weaver smirked. “Well, your cooking is better than Clay’s.”

“Hey!” Clay shouted. He walked across the room and placed a bottle of water in front of Dane while he’d settled on some iced tea. “If you don’t like my cooking, you could take my night.”

“Then how will you ever learn?” Grey sneered at him.

“Behave yourselves, boys. We have a guest, and Wiley doesn’t need to think you’re uncivilized.”

“Baer is the only uncivilized one here,” Grey muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for Baer to catch it.

“Watch it, or I will have owls nesting outside your windows,” Baer threatened.

Wiley’s laughter lifted above their bickering, and Baer felt lighter with the sound. He really did have the best bubbling laugh he’d ever heard. “You all sound like a real family.”

“Did you have big family dinners like this?” Dane inquired.

Wiley shook his head, his expression sobering far too fast. “I’m an only child, and my mom died young. I grew up with my grandmother. She’s great. Lives here in town. She still golfs at least twice a week.”

One of the doors leading to the patio opened, and Willie, in a billowing shirt and skirt, swept in carrying an armful of flowers. “I found flowers!” she sang out.

“Oh, good lord, Willie!” Flo admonished. “Did you leave any outside in the woods?”

“Of course! And Clay can always make me some more. Won’t you, Clay?”

The Earth Weaver lightly wrapped an arm around Willie’s delicate shoulders and pulled her in for a hug while bending down so she could place a kiss on his cheek. “Of course, Aunt Willie.” Clay couldn’t actually create new flowers with his powers, but he could encourage plants to grow and bud new flowers. Baer had caught him out in the woods on more than one occasion talking the plants into bringing forth new blooms just for Willie.

Not that Baer could blame him. There was something very sweet and innocent about Willie where Flo was all gruff and no-nonsense. Jo, on the other hand, was maternal warmth and kindness while still managing to be firm. He also felt a little bad for Willie. None of her Weavers had shown up yet. Each goddess was responsible for two of the Weavers. Both he and Grey belonged to Jo, while Clay belonged to Flo.

Willie hummed to herself as she twirled over to the center island with her giant bouquet in hand. With a wave of one hand, a swirling glass vase sprung into existence on the counter. Beside him, Wiley gasped and leaned close enough to brush against Baer’s arm.

“Magic,” he whispered.

“Willie is much freer with her use of magic,” Baer said. He looked over his shoulder at Wiley to see the younger man smiling up at him.

“That is just too cool.”

They turned back to watch Willie place most of the bouquet in the vase filled with water. As if she didn’t really think about it, she waved her hand again and a new vase appeared, this one made of blue glass and also filled with water. She placed the remaining flowers in the second vase with a happy sigh.

“Aunt Willie,” Baer called as he rose from his seat. “I’d like to introduce you to Wiley.”

A bright smile lifted her lips as she sort of floated across the room to where Wiley was now standing next to his chair. He started to extend his hand toward her, but she was already wrapping him in a hug.

“Aren’t you the most adorable boy!” she cooed at him. “You are just what this stuffy old house needs. I should have brought more flowers.”

“Oh, no! The flowers you have are wonderful,” Wiley quickly replied.