Page 144 of Charmed, I'm Sure
Blowing out a slow breath, she stepped into view. Nestled in her arms was a tiny, stripedkitten.
“Meet… I don’t know her name yet. She just showed up today.”
“Acat?”
“Technically, it’s afamiliarin cat form, but yes.”
“What about the cats at the manor?”
She padded over to where I still sat on the floor, Gumbo curled upin my lap, snoring.
“Meowfoy and Hermeownie arefamilyfamiliars. They stay at the manor.” She glanced down at the kitten. “And this little girl found me.Here.And since I’m moving in, I guess the Mother decided to gift me with my own.”
“You haven’t named her yet?” I carefully stretched out a hand, stroking a gentle path down the kitten’s back. She was tiny, gray and black with faint tiger stripes and a pink nose. I might not have been a cat person, but even I melted a little over the tiny fluff ball.
“I haven’t, but since you named the puppy Gumbo, I think I’ll name her… Filé.”
“Filé and Gumbo.” I huffed a laugh. “If those aren’t the most Southern pet names I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is.”
“You’resureyou’re okay with this? Pets are a big responsibility.”
“They’re perfect, Magnolia.Thank you.”
“Okay, good.” She let out a relieved breath. “Because I’ve already set up their food bowls and bedding… and spent way too much on toys.”
“Ofcourseyou did.” I chuckled, gently shifting Gumbo onto the floor before leaning in to press my lips to hers.
She sighed against my mouth, then whispered, “Hold that thought.” Pulling back, she stepped toward the window and placed the kitten in her chair.
I stood as well, wrapping my arms around her the moment she turned back to me.
“You have me completely charmed, Magnolia Bellevue.”
“The feeling is mutual, Taylor Hallows.” She slid her hand into mine, backing toward the hallway. “Now, why don’t we take advantage of the kids being asleepbeforethey keep us up all night?”
I grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Epilogue
Magnolia
One Year Later…
“Thankyou,”Isaidwith a bemused smile as someone handed me a beautiful blush-colored peony. I quirked a confused brow at Taylor, but he just shrugged in response, looping his arm around my shoulders as we continued walking through town square.
The sun was setting, painting the sky in vivid shades of orange and pink, turning the clouds a stunning lavender that had me seriously contemplating a hair color change.
“That was odd,” I murmured once we were far enough away.
“Yeah?” There was an edge of nervousness to his tone.
“Taylor,” I drawled, stopping abruptly on the sidewalk and turning toward him. “What’s going on?”
“What? Nothing.” His hand tightened on mine. “Come on, we’re going to be late for our dinner reservation.”
Narrowing my gaze, I let him guide me forward, suspicion prickling at the edges of my mind.
The day had been absolutely amazing—full of fun little surprises, from my favorite breakfast to a trip to theAudubon Zooin New Orleans—but there had been an undercurrent ofsomethingI couldn’t quite put my finger on. At first, I chalked it up to exhaustion; Taylorhad been working a string of graveyard shifts, our hours completely opposite to the point that we barely saw each other in passing. I’d beenthrilledto learn he had a few days off before switching back to days. Even more so when he told me he had plannedan entire dayfor us.
