Page 95 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“Keep your panties on, cousin. I was going to say ‘pet.’”

Elara laughed and hugged him. “Sure you were. Get going, scoundrel.”

EPILOGUE

Tripp Nightshade.

Elara sighed in contentment as he rolled onto his back and drew her close. “Did you feel the earth move? I’m sure I did.”

“Don’t even joke about it,” he growled, giving her a one-armed squeeze.

“The ground or the sex?”

He laughed. “I was disappointed you didn’t cry out, ‘pass the salami,’ when you came.”

“It was a struggle to keep it in,” she assured him, absently caressing one of his glorious, glorious shoulders. “I think you’re right about the whole wood-nymph-broad-shoulder obsession. It’s been a month of constant contact, and I still can’t stop touching them.”

“Told you.”

Smiling, she rolled atop him and rested her chin on her folded arms. “So, who do you think will get my boots next?”

“My balls shriveled. Thanks for that.”

Elara laughed.

“When you think about it, it wasn’t so bad.”

Tripp raised his head from the pillow and gave her an are-you-bonkers look. “For who? My cousin? Because from where I was sitting, it was a shit show.”

“No, I mean it. No one got hurt, issues were resolved, my parents returned to Witchmere, and—best of all—you and I hooked up,” she said. “I no longer have to duck into alleys to avoid you.”

He laughed and rolled them over, settling himself between her thighs. “Now you duck into alleys to make out with me.”

She grinned. “Isn’t it great?”

“Did you have any doubt?”

“None.”

As she gazed into his sparkling eyes, she sighed. How lucky could one girl be? “Thank you for always finding me.”

“Thank you for always loving me.”

“You’re an easy man to love, Tripp Nightshade.”

“Are you satisfied?”

Brelenia looked up from her ledgers as Rand entered their shared office. Granted, the space was one-half of an Olympic-sized swimming pool. “That’s a loaded question, darling. Perhaps you should clarify.”

“Tripp’s happy and prepared to settle down.” Rand perched on the edge of her desk and toyed with a snow globe Elara had gifted her. Inside was a miniature snow-capped Mount Rainier. “You should be over the moon.”

“Oh, yes. The only thing that would please me more would be if she dismissed her ridiculous notions of modern women not having children.”

“Brelenia.” His tone was chiding, and it rankled.

“I know. I know,” she said in disgust, directed mainly at herself and her inability to let it go. “I’ve heard it often enough from Tripp.”

“Is it so bad?”

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