Page 30 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

After giving herself a mental scolding, she said, “Explain, please.”

“I will.” Raising her hand, he kissed the inside of her wrist. “Let’s get a bite to eat, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Let me tell Flo I’m leaving.”

Tripp was delaying the inevitable. It might’ve been the fact Elara had felt too good in his arms or that avoiding her had seemed like torture. Perhaps not as agonizing as when he’d waited on news of Elaina’s fate after the fire or as difficult as the times he’d had to avert disaster in his past, but the last few days ranked up there.

His mother had conveniently disappeared, and no amount of scrying produced her whereabouts. Once again, she’d left him to clean up her mess. And things in Witchmere were about to get messy. The mountain had begun rumbling the day Elara tried on the boots, and the quakes had progressed up the Richter scale. The heightened seismic activity could only mean Rainier would blow her top, and soon, if he didn’t find a way to prevent it. Instead of snow this holiday season, fire and ash would rain down on everyone.

Once seated in a booth atSerendipity—the quaint soup shop owned and operated by yet another Sanderson—Tripp entwined his fingers with Elara’s atop the table. Although he was never one to care what others thought, he did, however, care about her comfort.

“Is this okay, flitter-mouse?”

“Holding hands like a couple of teenagers?” she asked. Her voice was breathy, and the restaurant’s low light couldn’t hide her charming flush of color.

“Yes.” What would she have been like as a teen? Responsible, he imagined. She’d have felt the need for stability and would’vesmothered her desire to act out or behave as a normal kid might’ve.

Elara nodded, keeping her gaze locked on their joined hands. “It’s okay.”

“You’re sure?” he prodded, giving a gentle shake to gain her attention.

Turning those overbright eyes to him, she nodded. “I’m sure.”

Tripp should’ve been concerned by the blatant adoration or felt uneasy at the very least, but his reaction was the opposite. Maybe the secluded atmosphere lent to the intimacy he was caught up in because he didn’t want to break the enchanting romantic spell surrounding them. Their meal couldn’t be called a date, but it felt like one.

He hated to ruin it.

Elara’s expression turned wary. “What is it, Tripp?”

And wasn’t it odd she could read him better than his own family?

Just like Elaina.

“I find myself drawn to you more than I should be,” he confessed. “It never ends well for the lover of a god or demigod. I don’t want you to be a casualty of the Fates’ whims.”

Her fingers tightened in his. “Are you positive I will be?”

Yes.

But he couldn’t voice it. Couldn’t bring himself to destroy her bubble of security. If he were a weaker man, he’d walk away, but he had boots to destroy and a volcano to tame.

As he opened his mouth, Katie Sanderson approached, giving their clasped hands a curious look and him an open, flirty smile. If she hadn’t been as friendly with Elara, he’d have left and never frequented her shop again.

“Hello, you two! I see the rumors are true.” She winked at Elara. “Well done you!”

“People should mind their own business.” Tripp’s reply was sharp, and his look pointed. “Did anyone ever considerI’mthe lucky one who caughther?”

Both women sucked in a breath and stared at him in shocked wonder. His outburst surprised him, too.

Katie was the first to recover, giving him a broad smile. “Well doneyou, Tripp Nightshade! And not just for catching Elara, but for recognizing her worth.” Leaning in, she kissed Elara’s cheek. “He’s a keeper, hon.”

“So is she,” he said in a soft voice.

“Oh, I know. It’s the stupid men of this town who can’t see beyond the end of their noses.”

“Or they’ve been warned off,” Archer Roche said as he approached.

The women gaped at him, and heat road Tripp’s cheeks.

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