Page 59 of De-Witched

Emma glanced at the engagement band. “I know.”

“It’s shiny.”

“Yep.”

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“That wasn’t it.”

“I figured.”

Leah blew out a breath. “I just...wanted to tell you that...” Shit. She faltered again. “Gabriel’s involved in this. The campaign. It was his idea.” There. Getting closer.

“He came up with the gala?” Emma’s tone fell between wary and intrigued.

“I guess he felt bad for us. Sonny. And you know he can’t resist showing how superior he is.” Leah winced at the unfairness of the statement, adding, “Though I think he actually does want to help.”

“Gabriel Goodnight wants to help you.”

Leah shrugged. “Me. The shelter. Everyone.”

“Uh-huh.” The papers slid away from Leah with a wave of Emma’s hand. “Leah.”

“Yes?”

“Gabriel Goodnight doesn’t do helping others.”

“How would you know? You haven’t socialized with him for eight years.”

Emma’s mouth opened, closed. “I know his reputation. And what I saw of him when he worked at the bar.”

Leah waved that away. “He can be an ass,” she agreed, meaning it. “But he’s also sweet. Kind of. In his own way.”

“Holy mother.” Emma gawked at her. “You like him.”

Leah shifted, edgy. “It’s hard to define. He’s not definable. We’re not definable.”

“You’re a ‘we’?” Emma looked pained, like she’d been told she’d have to deal with her bitch of a mother for an hour. “Is this because he’s a warlock? Because, honestly, Leah, they’re not worth the hassle.”

“Says the woman engaged to one.”

“After a lot of hassle. And I’m sister to many. I know of what I speak.”

Leah grinned fondly. “How is my favorite brother?” She hadn’t seen Kole in weeks.

“He’d faint if I told him you were crushing on Gabriel Goodnight,” Emma emphasized. “And then he’d storm through a portal so he could tell you to your face all of the things that could go wrong with you crushing on Gabriel Goodnight.”

“Why do you keep saying his whole name?”

“Because he’s Gabriel Goodnight.”

Unwillingly amused, Leah patted her hand. “Okay. And no, it’s not because he’s a warlock.” She couldn’t deny the curiosity, the years of pent-up fantasy. But he could be such a dick. She felt sure that would offset any novelty.

And...Gabriel was more than just “a warlock.” Maybe it was his limited powers, but she didn’t see that when she looked at him. For the first time, she didn’t care that he might be able to answer all her questions about the witch world, and then some. All she thought about was him. The man, not the magic.

“You’re not telling me something.” Emma’s eyes narrowed as she peered at her. “Something’s happened.”

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