Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Bestselling author,” Temperance drawled.
Chelsea Renfrew stared at my hand, and for a beat, I thought she’d ignore it, but then she leaned forward and put her fingers limply in mine.
I squeezed them…hard.
Then I let her go and flipped open the baker’s box.
“Viennese fingers for you,” I said to Temperance and turned to Battle. “Chassie has your donuts.”
“Here they are, Battie,” Chastity whisper-announced and took her box to him.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured.
I pushed in front of Chelsea and plopped down between her and Temperance.
Temperance hummed delightedly.
Chelsea gasped audibly and scuttled deeper into her corner.
I dug into a bag and pulled out the black and red flower crown we got Temperance.
I handed it to her. “You don’t have to wear it. But we agreed it’s so you.”
She took it and replied in a question, “Thank you?”
I grinned at her and turned to the other two people I didn’t know.
“Hi, I’m Vivi.”
The man got up and reached over the coffee table. “Rally. Great to meet you.”
I shook his hand.
When he sat back, the woman gave me a pained smile that I sensed was not caused by being pained at me, and pushed out, “Courtney.”
“Hi,” I replied.
“We also bought books. And crystals,” Prue said, upending her bag on the table where a bunch of crystals skittered out.
“I wanted to buy some sage sticks,” Chastity whisper-told Battle. “But Vivi told me it’s cultural appropriation.”
“The shopkeeper wasn’t a fan of that,” Prue shared with the room at large.
“I’m not sure it’s a thing, like Native Americans care if white people use smudge sticks to get rid of bad juju,” I explained. “But my motto is, better safe than sorry you not bastardizing something meaningful to some other culture’s spiritualism.”
Temperance’s low chuckle was amused, beautiful and sultry.
Chelsea emitted an annoyed noise.
“I didn’t know those were Native American,” Courtney put in.
“They are,” I confirmed.
Prue, getting in on my game, encouraged, “Show them your books, Vivi.”
I pulled all four of my big, how-to-be-a-white-witch books out of another bag, announcing, “First, I’m going to write my novel. Then, I’m going to get this whole love potion thing down and open a shop in Glastonbury.”
“I take it you enjoyed your day,” Battle purred.
“We had so much fun, Battie,” Chassie, hanging on his arm, whisper-assured.
He turned and kissed the side of her head.
Mostly an ass (probably).
But totally a good brother.
I put the books on the table, taking the top one with me, sitting back and flipping through it, saying, “That place is my new favorite place on the planet.” I turned to Temperance. “And yes, this decision might have something to do with me eating three of those Viennese fingers.”
“I’m stunned and insulted you’d assume I have poor taste in anything,” Temperance returned.
“Lesson learned,” I replied.
“May I get you ladies drinks?” Fitzgibbons was now there asking.
“Usual for me, Fitzy, thanks,” Prue said.
“Can I have a white wine spritzer?” Chassie whisper-requested, then she looked up at Battle, who she was now leaning on, also who had his arm around her (the box of donuts was on the mantle). “It was such a sunny, happy day. Like summer, almost.”
He smiled tenderly down at her.
Completely and totally a good brother.
“Miss Vivienne?” Fitzgibbons prompted.
I tried to dream up a good challenge for Fitzgibbons in the drinks arena, but with what was going on, I didn’t have it in me.
So I asked, “Gin fizz for me, please.”
“Right away,” he said and left the room (there was no drinks cabinet there, though, the speed in which he left probably had to do with him making an escape).
“As you see, we have unexpected company,” Temperance pointed out unnecessarily.
“I really did think Rally phoned you,” Courtney said.
“And I thought Court phoned you.” Rally pointedly aimed this at Chelsea.
Chelsea was studying her rounded, cream-polished fingernails.
“It’s terribly rude just to pitch up and—” Rally began.
But Chelsea cut him off before he could suggest, maybe, that they leave. “Though, we’re all here now. A lovely spring weekend in the West Country, away from the city. Perfect.”
No one said anything after that.
Snowball broke that crust of ice by sauntering in and brazenly jumping on the sofa between Chelsea and me.
Chelsea pressed herself even deeper into the corner of the sofa.
I tucked my witch book at my side and put her in my lap.
She settled in, booty to my lap, belly to my belly, paws to my chest, and started purring when I started stroking.
“I’m allergic to cats,” Chelsea proclaimed.
“If you were, which you are not, you should have avoided a home that is home to six of them,” Battle stated.
“Darling, how could you say I’m not?” Chelsea pouted. “You know how sniffly I get when I come here.”
“His point, I believe, is, if that’s the case, don’t come here,” Temperance explained.
Prue, who’d seated herself in one of the two chairs at the end of our arrangement, shot me big eyes.