Page 26 of Best Hex Ever
“It’s the Honeywell hunting lodge,” Immy said, catching up with Dina.
“Looks like a fairy-tale cottage,” Dina replied. “I love it.”
Immy beamed. “I knew you would. Now, don’t get mad at me, but that’s not the end of the surprise.”
Dina cautiously followed Immy to the house, where she unlocked the quaint wooden door with an almost medieval-looking key of wrought iron.I really have fallen into a fairy tale,Dina thought.
The inside of cottage was exactly how Dina had pictured it: a small kitchen with cream wooden cabinets, a red tiled floor, pots of fresh herbs by the window. Mint, rosemary, and sage—allgood for luck and protection. Copper pots and pans hung from hooks on the wall over a bright red Aga, gently warming the cottage against the chill of the woods.
“Adorable,” Dina said.
“Just you wait. Come and look over here.” Immy pointed out the cream sofa that faced a hearth that was currently unlit.
Picture frames hung above the fireplace showing a mouse and its family in their underground house—delightful little watercolor paintings.
There were three doors leading off from the heart of the house, which Dina assumed must be the bedroom and bathroom and perhaps a closet? This felt like the sort of cottage perfectly sized for one person. And ideal for one witch.
“How come you aren’t staying here?” Dina asked. “It feels like the perfect little honeymoon spot.”
“Dina, please.” Immy rolled her eyes. “This is far too cutesy for me. Our bridal suite has a stag’s head above the bed and this big copper bathtub that I’ve already had sex in twice. There’s no way I’m swapping that.”
“Well, I’m not about to complain. This place is heaven.”
“I knew you’d like it. And here’s your room.”
Immy opened the door to a beautifully cozy little room with pale pink walls and a tall wooden double bed covered in all manner of cross-stitched cushions. Dina threw herself onto the bed, squealing as she fell into the heap of pillows.
She heard a sound coming from outside, so she went to look out the window.
Her mouth went dry.
“Immy, why is Scott chopping wood behind my little house for the weekend?”
“About that…”
“Immy…”
“Don’t murder me, I’m getting married.”
“What have you done?”
“Well…technically this isn’t going to be onlyyourcottage for the wedding. Scott will be staying here too.”
“On second thought, murder feels like the right response to thisflagrant matchmaking.”
“It’s not…We’re not…okay, well, maybe a little bit. The truth is—and you know I love you so please don’t get mad—Ithought that maybe Scott might be a good fling for you. He’s exactly your type, and I thought you might want something to take your mind off everything.”
“And what does Scott think of all this?” Dina realized she was trembling. Not from anger; perhaps more the intense apprehension of living in such close quarters with Scott. They would have to share a bathroom, sweet heavens.
“I think we’re about to find out,” Immy said, nodding toward the door.
A moment later, Scott walked in, his hair a mess, carrying a bundle of freshly chopped firewood.
“You,” Scott said, his mouth turning up at the corners. “What are you doing here?” He looked over at Dina’s pile of bags.
Dina glared at Immy, who was unabashedly waggling her eyebrows at them both. That woman had no shame.
“I suppose we’re both staying here then,” Scott said, dropping the logs down on a curved brass log holder by the hearth.
