Page 106 of The Witch is Back

Unbidden, Emma moved her fingers to her lips, grazed them. “Yes,” she said softly. “He’s...” Memories slid in front of her like slides on a screen, images of them learning each other’s bodies. The shower. The chair. The floor. His mouth. On her. “...amazing.”

When she glanced up, Tia’s features were strained.

“I’m not falling for him.” Exasperation made her voice clipped.

Tia opened her mouth, but Tamsin fortunately chose that moment to bustle back in with a gown draped across her arms, Sloane and the shop assistant in tow. If the witch wedding planner wondered at the presence of two humans, she didn’t voice it. Another reason to like her.

“I’ve found the perfect dress,” she announced. “The ladies are short on champagne, Helen.”

Helen, the shop assistant, flicked her hand and Tamsin caught her eye, shook her head with a tilt to Leah. Who pretended not to notice the flute by her foot had filled and emptied again. Sloane hadn’t noticed, luckily. She was terrible at playing it cool, as any kid around magic would be.

“I’ll go get the bottle.” Helen hurried off.

Tamsin jerked her chin. “Up. Come try this on.”

“Does she scare you?” Sloane wanted to know as Tamsin headed to a dressing room.

Emma flashed her a grin and followed. Sloane rounded the coffee table, where bridal magazines fanned out, and dropped next to Tia. “Tell me a story,” Emma heard her say along with Tia’s answering laugh—because all Tia’s stories were drawn from actual witch culture, her way of educating Sloane and making Emma despair at the same time.

Tamsin closed the white shuttered doors behind them. “Now, it’s not what you indicated you might choose on your questionnaire, but I think it’ll look gorgeous. See these small straps that flow into a sweetheart neckline? Very simple, very elegant, and then the skirt—” she reached out, fluffed it out “—a hint of sparkle and volume, but not so much you’d feel all eyes were on you. The back has these pearl buttons, again, classy, understated. And we can make this any color. I know other witches have opted for crimson, violet, emerald...”

“Bastian likes blue,” Emma heard herself saying.

Tamsin floundered for a second. Odd. Maybe other brides didn’t take their partners into consideration. “Okay. Navy would look lovely against your skin tone. Or if you wanted to go more jewel, we could try a teal.”

“Yes...” Emma remembered well his reaction to her teal dress. “Teal.”

Tamsin pulled her clipboard out of thin air and made a note. “Just making sure to have teal accents throughout the ceremony,” she explained and the clipboard disappeared.

She stroked a hand down the wedding dress and color followed in its wake. “I’ll leave you to try it on. If you need help, just yell.”

Alone, Emma stared at the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. It was just a dress, she reasoned. No need to feel partly scared of it. It didn’t represent anything more than a nice dress to wear to an event that would tie her to Bastian. That was it. The vows were big; the dress was just another cog in the machine of the day. It didn’t matter.

It all sounded good in her head until she had the dress on and looked in the mirror.

“Well?” Leah called out, excitement threading through her voice. “Come out, let us see!”

Emma dragged in a breath. A strange tingling feeling was happening in her fingers. Her heart beat against her ribs in a rhythm usually heard when breaking through a door.

She opened the doors and made her way to the main area. She saw Tamsin first, the wedding planner’s face curving into pleased satisfaction.

Sloane was next and she was gaping. “You look like a movie star!” she announced excitedly, before her expression fell half a degree. “I wish I got to wear a dress.”

Emma winced, as it was a sore point that her sister couldn’t be a bridesmaid. For them both. “Maybe we’ll have our own party and get you one to wear,” she said.

Her sister beamed. “I like that idea.”

“Me, too.”

As her friends hadn’t said anything, Emma turned to them expectantly. Both looked struck dumb.

“Oh, Emma.” Leah got misty as she stood up, hands clasped at her heart. “You’re beautiful. Bastian won’t be able to believe his luck.”

The glow in her chest brightened as she smoothed a hand down the material. “Tia?”

The silent witch stood and strode to her side, very serious. Emma was about to make an awkward joke when she was unceremoniously hauled into a tight hug.

When she drew back, her friend had tears in her eyes. “He had better not hurt you,” she choked. “You’re gorgeous, Em.”

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