Witch Is The New Black (Paris, Texas Romance #3)

Nice boobs. Did you pump them up at the gas station?

Bernie! Leave this viper and her venom now. Slap on your resting bitch face, walk away, and let’s go have some fried chicken and potato salad. Please?

Inhaling, she decided to take Fee’s advice, but with a smile. Bernie smiled as wide as her face would allow. “It’s nice to see you, Mr. Donovan. Thank you for coming. I’m going to go grab some of those ribs. Hope you two have a great evening.”

Ridge reached a broad hand out to her. “Bernie, wait—”

But Bernie ignored him and made her way past the buffet and out the wide French doors leading to the garden as quickly as she could, leaving even Fee in her dust.

The tension brewing in her stomach had become a sign she could sometimes feel just before mayhem erupted. It didn’t always give her this kind of warning, but in this instance, with Violet throwing her breasts around like beach balls at a pool party, that dread in her belly was clear as day and she was paying heed. If nothing else, she was determined to keep from trashing Winnie and Ben’s beautiful home.

She found a small corner table near the shed, away from the soft music filtering into the yard, away from so many people, away from Violet, who had quite clearly staked her claim on Ridge for all the world to see.

Bernie closed her eyes, leaning her head against the shed, fighting to control the urge to run back in and clock Violet in her smug crimson lips.

Breathing inward, she tried to focus on other things.

Like what Ridge looked like naked.

Oh God.





Chapter 5



“What are you doing?” asked Violet. Or, as he’d come to refer to her in his mind because he was convinced she had eight hands, Octopussy.

He glared down at her, infuriated by her shitty behavior. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

She tried to yank her arm away from his grasp as he escorted her toward the front porch of Winnie and Ben’s, planning to deposit her right outside where she belonged—away from polite, nonjudgmental company.

“I think you’d better let go of me. This can’t be appropriate!” she ordered, her face flushed.

He paused after pulling her out onto the wide porch and frowned. This from the woman who’d literally lunged at him and stuck her tongue down his throat after one blind date arranged by a friend?

“Appropriate? You’re one to talk, Violet,” he rumbled. After she’d openly, purposely insulted Bernie, Violet had taken off to freshen up, which gave him a moment to gather his wits so he could remain a gentleman. But no way was he going to let her behavior go unaddressed.

Yet, she was backing away from him as though he were Satan himself. “It’s hardly appropriate for me to be out here alone on the porch with you.”

He’d wanted to strangle her when she’d openly mocked Winnie’s clothes while she was in a dress that cost more than most people made in a month. Violet was rich, spoiled and rude, and she’d set her sights on him a couple of months ago, and hadn’t let up since.

He’d avoided her calls after the initial coffee date, where he’d told her as honestly as possible he wasn’t interested in a relationship or dating. But Violet didn’t take no for an answer—or she really liked a good game of cat and mouse.

The moment she’d seen him arrive tonight was the moment she’d latched onto his arm. There was no getting around the fact that they would run into each other at community events, but this possessive nature of hers was for the birds.

Either way, the next time he saw his good buddy Holt, he was gonna kick his ass from here to Sunday for ever setting him up with this nutcase with the roaming hands and haughty disdain for anyone who didn’t own a Mercedes.

Seeing Bernie’s eyes flash but watching her actively clamp her mouth shut to keep from reacting to Violet’s obvious snub almost physically hurt to witness. She was already walking on eggshells. That much had been apparent after the barn fiasco today when she’d profusely apologized.

Maybe her being on parole meant she thought she had no rights, and that was why she hadn’t reacted to Violet’s snub. But the hell he was going to allow anyone to humiliate her in public because she thought her hands were tied.

“Let go of me!”

Ridge rocked back on his heels and cocked his head. “Did you miss your meds today, Violet? And speaking of appropriate? It’s not appropriate for you to talk to people that way. Don’t ever do it in my company again. Understood?”

Violet looked him in the eye, hers wide and full of fake innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But we hardly know each other, and I can’t afford to have people talking about me if they see us out here alone. I’m not going to risk it.”