The Treehouse of Dreams (Pepper Bay #13)

Prologue

Willow Silver had just been rudely dumped. There was little else for it, she needed to get drunk, and fast. If only she had listened to her best friend in the beginning, then Branston, as Sully called him, wouldn’t be an issue. But he so was an issue. A great big one pounding her brain with hailstones and thunder.

Bradley Pickle seemed nice at first. An ordinary lad she’d met in Bar Zone, the nightclub at her university. It was their last year. He and his mates merged together easily enough with her circle, and that was that. Not much to write home about, so she never did.

Their relationship was fine, and she was pleased he’d agreed to go travelling with her and her friends after their dissertations had been handed in and life was full of freedom again.

Being called boring in her tiny hostel room came as a bit of a surprise, especially as Bradley had never mentioned that fact before. India was shaping up to be such a wonderful memory until he dropped that bombshell on her, swiftly followed by a tip of the head and a quick goodbye.

Just like that, her four-month relationship was done and dusted.

It’s my fault. I should have slept with him .

That thought needed to go immediately. She had made the decision as a girl to save herself for The One . Seeing how she had made it to the grand age of twenty-one so far, she wasn’t about to give in now, especially when she didn’t truly have any sexual desire towards Bradley.

All her friends had lost their virginity already. Maybe not Cody Sullivan. She couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t a subject he took joy participating in, which was apparent whenever someone started chatting about their sex life, and he would make an excuse to leave. Dungeons and Dragons, Final Fantasy XIV , or someone called Zelda were more his cup of tea in the conversation department.

Willow wished Cody was with her now. He’d cheer her up, make pickle jokes, and hand out the tissues.

Crouching awkwardly between the two single beds that were almost touching, she struggled to stretch her arm under her poor excuse for a bed to grab her squashed backpack, hoping the bottle of red wine there hadn’t cracked and leaked onto what little clothing she’d brought with her on her trip.

‘Ah-ha!’

Feeling slightly chuffed, if not still a little forlorn, she twisted off the cap, grateful it had one, then swigged straight from the bottle.

It was a bleak party-for-one that took place upon her bony mattress, but needs must. It wasn’t every day someone made her feel like crap. No one had ever used the word boring to describe her before. She prided herself on being the life and soul of any get-together, thank you very much.

Half a bottle later, and Willow had enough Dutch courage to send the pickle-man a rather wordy email. Life was a lot easier when she could simply text, but Bradley had refused to take his phone away with him, stating he was trying to stay off-grid to be at one with his experience.

Off-grid, my arse!

Willow fired up her laptop and scrunched her fingers. Thinking back, not a lot of what Bradley said made sense. He did, after all, pack a laptop and a rather expensive camera. What difference a mobile phone made was beyond her. But each to their own, so she ignored his logic, as, mostly, she didn’t care.

Sending an email filled with a solid mix of wit, charm, angst, indifference, with added dignity and composure required some internet help. She was sure there was a tutorial somewhere, as this email had to be spot on if she were ever to keep her chin aloft in his presence again, which was doubtful, seeing how he’d changed course so their planned destinations would no longer be joined.

‘Oh, fail my life!’

A few more swigs later and something else caught her blurry eye.

A sparkly pink-and-red advert drew her closer to the screen, informing her of her fate. He awaits. Apparently. Mystic Maureen could see his face. So she said. Maybe she did know. Worth a shot.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ Willow hiccupped, filled in her details, handed over her cash, and hit send.

If Maureen over in Texas could draw life-like pictures of people’s soulmates, then Willow was happy to pay to see the mugshot of her intended. After feeling utterly deflated, a spoiler or two could be just the pick-me-up she needed, especially if he looked like that beefy actor Cody had pointed out at the airport, his mouth gaping and eyes almost popping out far enough to hit the poor unprepared bloke.

Cody had framed the photo he’d frantically forced her to take when they’d spotted the man, who apparently starred in some fantasy programme she hadn’t heard of. It had taken a couple of weeks to find a printer and frame, and now Cody pretty much slept with the thing.

I wish my life was simple like Sully’s .

She closed her eyes, hugging the bottle containing dregs of wine, and drifted off to a better place. One where bugs didn’t bite her and pickle-people weren’t cold and mean, only waking when Cody tugged her bottle away and nudged her cheekbone with his knuckle.

‘Look at the state of you. Come on. Get up. You’ve got time for a quick wash, then we’re out of here.’

Willow peered up to see floppy blond hair looking brighter than normal. ‘Sully?’

‘Yes, it’s me. Saskia said you were passed out all night. She’s already left with the others. I said I’d sort you.’

‘Sort me?’

‘I can’t believe you guzzled all that wine to yourself. We said we were going to save it.’

Willow fought with a sheet wrapped around her feet as she slid down to the narrow crack between the beds. ‘Ooh, my head hurts.’

‘I can imagine.’

She blinked hard, attempting to bring some life back into her eyes. ‘I need to pack.’

‘I’m doing it. You just need to concentrate on you. I wondered where you were last night. I was going to come here but thought you’d be hanging with Branston.’

Willow giggled, then winced, touching her temple, glad to know it was still in place. ‘I’m boring,’ she blurted, feeling the need for strong coffee, a gallon of water, painkillers, and the loo all at once.

‘Never.’

‘He said so.’ She managed to stand.

‘Who did?’

‘Bradley. When he dumped me last night. He’s gone now.’ She swirled her tongue over her teeth. A toothbrush was definitely needed.

Cody didn’t offer any words of comfort, which was odd. Normally he’d say something sarcastic about Bradley, but he was quietly packing up her current life instead.

Willow slumped back to the bed and groaned. ‘Will you just check the bathroom’s empty for me please? And see if you can get that coffee machine to work. I seriously cannot travel on an empty stomach right now.’

Piercing blue eyes glistened her way. They did that, his eyes. She always thought it was kind of magical. As though a digital artist had created them for a character in one of those fantasy realms he loved so much.

She smiled as he left on his quest, then she turned to pack away her laptop. Seeing how it hadn’t been shut down properly, she went to sort that before attending to the dried mascara stuck to the top of her cheeks.

‘Oh my giddy aunt!’

Mystic Maureen was fast.

Right there, sitting in her inbox, was a psychic drawing and one page of info on her soulmate’s personality.

Even with eyes half-open and head thumping, Willow scrutinised the pencil-drawn picture of the dark-haired man with the chiselled jaw and Roman nose.

Not bad .

No one she recognised. So someone to keep an eye out for, because there was no way she was getting her love life wrong ever again.

Sitting in the tiny room, breathing in the odour of sweaty bodies mingled with stale alcohol, Willow Silver decided there and then that when it came to dating, it was now a case of soulmate or ‘Nah, mate.’