Page 79 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

Elara weighed his words as she perused the ancient tomes in theNever Too Manyattic. Would he stick to his promise? What person in their right mind would give their power to another the way he’d offered to do? How could he trust her to do the right thing with so heady an ability?

Spent too much money shopping online? Wave a hand to have your husband assure you it’s all right.

Murder your rival? Snap your fingers to have him help you bury the body.

“You’re overthinking it,” Tripp said, stepping from the shadows.

Her bloodcurdling scream shook the rafters.

“Fire-bellied toad turds! Stop doing that!”

His brows shot up at her bizarre exclamation. “That’s a new one.”

“Well, yes.” She fanned her hot face. “But they’re also what I need for the spell to find my parents.”

“Excellent.” He held out his hand. “This is me, asking without influencing, if you’ll take a break and come with me.”

She accepted his hand. “Where are we going?”

“To the beach. Although it’s stuffy up here, it’s in no way hot. I think your water nymph needs refreshment.”

“I’d forgotten.”

“That’s why I’m here. To remind you and provide what you need.”

She halted when he would’ve led them downstairs. Gazing up into his curious visage, she made a decision. “I can commit to a lifetime with you, Tripp, and I don’t want your ability.” His astonishment made her laugh. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Not after fire-bellied toads turds,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it surprised me, too. But you had a good argument.”

“May I kiss you and show you exactly how happy you’ve made me?”

“No.” She shrugged under his stare. “I’m too hot. Water first, make-out session second.”

“Deal. And when we get to the beach, I want to learn all about this locator spell of yours. I’ve never come across one requiring fire-bellied toad turds.”

The next half hour was lighthearted and lovely as Tripp taught her to manipulate her body’s temperature. Once he was satisfied she had the basics, they crossed the parking lot to the beach path.

“Crap! I forgot they only come off when I go to bed.” She considered the distance to the water. It wasn’t far, but she’d deal with sand in her boot the rest of the day.

“I’ll carry you.” His gallant offer pulled a girly sigh from her.

But before she could accept, her boots morphed into purple flip-flops with a massive plastic daisy on each toe thong. They were whimsical and perfect.

“I guess that settles that. Leave it to Hermes to create practical footwear,” Tripp said with a wry chuckle.

Like children, they frolicked along the water’s edge, with Elara dipping her toes in the Sound when no one was looking. Although not the dead of winter, late December was cold in Washington, and passersby would think she was insane if they saw her.

“We should get back,” he said, and Elara detected regret in his voice.

“Will it always be like this, do you think? Will you ever grow tired of me?”

His smile was slow and sweet. “Elara Elizabeth Hawthorne, you can rest assured I will never tire of you. Would I have sought you out in each of your incarnations if I thought I might?”

“But maybe this is all some cosmic attraction we have no control over. What do we even know about each other?”

His eyes narrowed as he considered her question. In a move that stole her breath, he swept her up, cradling her in his arms, and plopped down onto the sandy shoreline of Point No Point.“Iknowyou’ll want to see this,” he said to her before turning his face skyward. “Come meet Elara.”

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