Page 49 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“Your inner cat must be itching to get out,” she said, removing temptation from his path. After setting the snow globe on the bottom shelf, she straightened and met his laughing gaze squarely. “What do you think Zeus would demand as payment from Tripp? I assume a mortal like myself would be beneath his notice.”

“Clever girl.”

“I’ve had to be. Answer the question.”

Hermes shrugged and explored the shelves she’d refused to let Hex climb. “Firstborn? I’m not privy to my father’s thoughts nor inclined to care.”

“Firstborn? As inchild?” Elara shook her head vehemently. “Not a chance! No way am I allowing Tripp to sacrifice his child on my behalf.”

“He might not have one if you don’t.” Hermes acted like he didn’t care one way or the other.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’ll both be dead by then, flitter-mouse,” Tripp said from behind her.

She whirled to face him. “Why aren’t you furious at this ridiculous suggestion?”

“Because I have no intention of asking my uncle for anything.” Striding forward, he cupped her jaw. “We’ll figure it out, or we won’t. But this is our problem to work through.”

“I did this, Tripp. You warned me to remove the boots, and I didn’t listen.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but Hermes inserted a hand between them.

“If I may… You couldn’t have resisted even had you wanted to, Elara. They are enchanted.”

Balling her hands into fists, she rounded on him. “So this setup is centuries old? We were always going to be screwed?”

“Not necessarily. At any time, you could’ve given into your love for each other and?—”

“That’s it!” The first stirring of excitement bubbled within her. “It’s never been about resolving any issues or walking away. You won’t be happy without a commitment.”

Satisfaction curled his mouth. “Like I said, clever girl.”

On the heels of her epiphany rode the cold, hard truth. There was no way she or Tripp could fool the boots by the deadline. They weren’t in love.

“Mount Rainier will blow,” she stated with finality. “We need more time.”

Hermes glanced at Tripp, then back at her. “I’ll leave you to talk this through.”

Elara’s tragic expression was a gut punch. Tripp’s desire to haul her into his arms was overwhelming, but giving in to the urge was useless. They knew the score.

“What are you doing back here? I thought you had an appointment with Harrison?” she asked dully.

“Your distress distracted me.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve?—”

Expelling a heavy sigh, he gave in to the desire and drew her close. “Stop apologizing, flitter-mouse. I’d rather be here.”

Her “You’re just saying that” was muffled and barely audible against his chest.

“No. If these are to be our last hours, I want to spend them with you.” He smiled when her arms tightened around him.

“Would more time have helped us fall in love, do you think?” she asked.

Her wistful question caused his heart to ache. “Doubtful. I won’t say love is instantaneous, but either you love someone, or you don’t. Trying to build what isn’t there won’t work.”

“And you don’t love me,” Elara stated flatly.

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