Page 93 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“It’s not.”

“You’re not an expert. You couldn’t even commit until yesterday.”

He laughed. “I love how, in such severe circumstances, you maintain your humor.”

“I’m told it’s one of my most attractive qualities. That and my love of salami.”

Tripp wasn’t aware of sitting and clutching her tightly to his chest or of the tears free-flowing down his cheeks until she kissed them away.

“It’s a damned good thing our location is exclusive,” he choked out. “I’d be forced to hand in my man card if the other Gods saw me like this.”

“True. I’d be forced to champion you,” she agreed with a bittersweet smile. “But I’d do it. For you, Tripp Nightshade. You’re worth everything.”

She climbed to her feet, holding out her hand. “Come on. It’s time to throw me into the volcano.”

“You’re cracked in the head if you think I’m going to.”

From a short distance away, Hermes stood, cloaked and listening to the star-crossed lovers bicker about sacrificing themselves on the other’s behalf.

“Don’t be a shitbag. Light the last jewel already!”

“Ah, Stormy, my love! I see you’re spying on me from your underwater lair,” he said through their telepathic connection. “I was wondering when you’d interfere.”

“She’s my sister. Do you honestly believe I’d trust her welfare to anyone else?”

He chuckled. “I was counting on your protective instincts to kick in.”

“Why?”

“So you’d talk to me again,” he admitted. “I miss you.”

“Gargle a nutsack, shitbag. This is forher, not you.”

He laughed as he lit the stone. “And that is foryou. Happy?”

“Pfft.”

The silence grew, and if it weren’t for the lightest buzzing in his ears, he’d have believed she’d disconnected.

“Thank you, Hermes.”

“What can I say? I’m fond of the girl. She’s got spunk. Like you.” He rubbed the area over his heart, wishing things could be different and Storm could forgive him. But she’d held a grudge for over a century, and her stance hadn’t softened.

“I’ll grant you one more favor. But it better be a worthy one, nothing to do with sex when you’re horny,” she said.

Laughing, he nodded. “Duly noted.”

There was another long pause before she said, “Do you think my father will stay in Witchmere this time?”

“Perhaps. He only left to protect Elara and Payton.”

“So he says.”

“So he says,” Hermes repeated. “You should come here, Stormy.”

“I’ll think about it.” And with that sassy reply, the buzzing in his ears stopped, severing their connection.

“I love you, Stormy,” he whispered. “I always have.”

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