Page 21 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“I beg to differ.” Her jaw sagged, and he gave in to the urge to tap her mouth closed. “You’ve been undressing me with your gorgeous eyes for quite some time now, Elara Hawthorne. You’ve even gone so far as to proposition me earlier today. That’s to say nothing of the kisses we’ve shared. Seems to me, I should know the preferences of a future lover.”

She sucked in a breath so fast she choked, and Tripp lightly thumped her back, taking wicked delight in her coughing fit.

Elara knocked his hand away with a growl. “I’m getting coal for Christmas.”

His brows snapped together as his annoyance spiked. “Who’s Cole?”

“Coal. C-o-a-l, not C-o-l-e.”

Feeling like a colossal idiot for his spontaneous jealousy, Tripp shrugged.

As she stomped away, he remained where he was, appreciating the angry swish of her hips.

“You forgot to get the boots.”

He yelped his surprise and spun, searching for Payton Hawthorne. Only, she wasn’t easily visible. With a furtive glance around, Tripp stepped into the alley betweenWilyWitchesBrew-Ha-HaandThe Cook’s Cauldron, both popular spots for Elara. By extension, they had become his, though he’d never admit to stalking. If they happened to be in the exact location at the same time, it looked coincidental, right? And if her flustered appearance gave him a small thrill, it was a secret he’d take to the grave.

“They’re difficult to remember when I’m with her,” he told Payton.

“I’ll say. Maybe if you could keep your mind on the objective and not on seducing my sister, you’d be able to get them back.”

He didn’t dare inform her that if seducing Elara was necessary to get those fucking boots, he’d do it without a second thought—or even a first. Deep down existed the knowledge that if he did, he’d be forever fucked. And not in a good way. The guilt would probably eat him alive, yet the memory of holding her would live with him for eternity.

“What about you?” he asked Payton. “Can you play up the sisterhood card and see if she’ll let you try them on?”

“It might work if we were the same shoe size. She’s a six and a half. I’m a nine.”

“Okay, we’ll need to get them while she’s sleeping,” he said with a definitive nod.

“I’m not sure I want to take part in this. You still haven’t convinced me they’re anything more than a confidence booster.”

Payton was about to say something else but clammed up the second Dailey Cobb stepped into view. Their eyes connected across the distance, and storm clouds gathered on the officer’s ruggedly handsome face. Payton, on the other hand, looked like she’d eaten live eels and was about to regurgitate them back up.

“What’s going on here?” Dailey demanded. “When did you return to town?”

Finding her backbone, she squared her shoulders, exactly like Tripp had seen Elara do a hundred times. Two abandoned sisters against the world.

“None of your business, Dailey Cobb,” she replied stiffly. “You can go back to enforcing your mommy’s rules.”

The Hawthorne women were fond of using the NOYB phrase, and it seemed it didn’t sit any better with Dailey than it had with Tripp.

“Everything is fine, Officer Cobb,” Tripp said with a friendly smile. “Payton and I were discussing the incident atNever Too Many. It’s shocking, isn’t it?”

Dailey’s gaze never moved from Payton, but he addressed Tripp. “I can’t say it is if the Hawthornes are around.”

“Oh, so you’re pulling the ‘girl from the wrong side of the tracks’ routine?” She scoffed, fisting her hands on her hips. “Good one.”

One had to listen closely to hear the hurt in her voice, but it existed. Hers was the attitude of a rebel but underneath her sassy exterior beat the heart of a wounded girl.

Dailey had the grace to blush. “I didn’t mean it that way, Payton. You know I didn’t.”

“Then you’re implying my sister and I are bad luck?” she asked an octave higher with rage brewing in her aquamarine eyes.

“Officer Cobb, I’m sure you have better things to do now that you’ve ascertained everything is fine here. If it worries you that we’re in the alley, we’ll gladly move to the main street,” Tripp said, hoping to defuse the explosive atmosphere.

“Nah.” Dailey’s drawl was dismissive. “I don’t give a damn one way or another other than to keep this town safe fromtrouble. Have a nice evening, Nightshade.”

“You don’t give a damn about my sister?” Elara asked from the mouth of the alley. “What the hell kind of thing isthatto say, Dailey Cobb?”

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