Page 49 of Charmed and Alarmed

There’s no way that arguing with him is going to do me any favors, but surprisingly, Bram doesn’t bite back. My old friend just stares at me, grave-faced. “If you do anything to hurt her, I will make your life a living hell. I mean it, you absolute fuck.”

Recognizing this is as close to Bram’s blessing as I’m going to get, I don’t hesitate to take it. “Fine,” I agree. “If anyone’s in danger here, though, it’s me.”

Bram’s answering look is withering. “Lenora hasn’t quit a single thing in her life. I doubt she’s going to start now.” And, without another word, he turns, walking out of my office and out of sight.

A few seconds later, the bathroom door behind me snicks open. “Wow,” Leni offers as she appears at my side. “Who knew Bram Cracker had it in him to be so benevolent.”

I snort, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the crown of her hair. “We should get out of here before he changes his mind. Any chance you’ll let me carry you down the stairs?”

“That’s a hard pass.”

“I figured.” I kiss her hair again, my chest full to bursting. “Let’s go home?”

“Yeah,” Leni agrees, her smile soft as she tilts her head back to meet my eyes. “Let’s go home.”

EPILOGUE

LENORA

2 YEARS LATER

I’m getting married today.

Me.

You’d think after months of planning, of listening to Holden make ridiculous requests just for the amusement of making my father pay for them, of stressing out about seating arrangements and picking out my dress… It really didn’t sink in until now.

I woke up this morning as Lenora Vogel, and when I go to bed tonight—hopefully fucked into a coma by my new husband—I’ll be Lenora Ellinger. The sound of that, even in my head, makes me smile because it really does soundso good. It’s not something I ever expected to be excited over, a wedding, a ring, a new name… I am, though. Really excited.

Probably because it’s all part of becoming Holden’s wife.

“You look so pretty, Len,” sniffs Honor, standing back to look at me, her hand resting atop herveryswollen stomach.

I blanche. “God, sit down. You’re going to go into labor during the ceremony if you don’t chill out.”

It’s not just me being dramatic, either. There really is an unfortunately high probability of this occurring. When we set the date for the wedding almost a year ago, I was thrilled to find a day that didn’t correspond with any major holidays, family members’ anniversaries, birthdays, or scheduled life events. Save-the-dates were sent, the venue was booked, a caterer was picked.

Then, my maid ofHonorannounced that she was pregnant.

Her due date? Tomorrow.

“She’s not going to go into labor,” Sophie reassures me from her place on the couch.

I glare at her. “Don’t jinx it.”

“Youjust jinxed it!”

“I’m the bride, I can jinx whatever I want. Besides.” I wave my hand toward Sophie’s also swollen—but thankfully not ready to pop—stomach. “You aren’t exactly an authority on responsible birth control use.”

Beside her, Jo, who is both a bridesmaid and the official flower girl wrangler, grins. “I’m not pregnant, Leni! Do I get to be maid of honor if her water breaks all over your veil?”

“No, you’d be maid of Josephine. It doesn’t sound nearly as good,” quips Sophie cheerfully, and everyone laughs.

Realizing I was excited to get married was almost as awesome as realizing I had people I could ask to wear matching cream-colored dresses and throw me a party where everyone drinks out of penis shaped cups.

A quiet knock sounds on the dressing room door, and we all look around in time to see my brother-in-law poke his head in, smiling around at us. “It’s time.”

There is a flurry of last-minute hair fluffing and bouquet gathering as we all prepare to leave. Julian holds the door open for us, kissing his wife’s cheek as she passes and offering me a one-armed hug. “You look beautiful, Leni.”

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