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

Ridge nodded. “Got it.”


“At first I thought it was insane that they thought I was the one who was playing at being nuts. Then, when some of the other inmates used their powers to cast spells or when Fee started talking to me, I thought I really was going crazy. Until I started going to all the self-help groups they offer at the prison. In fact, even after attending group, I still didn’t totally believe. I didn’t want to believe. I didn’t want to be a witch. So I shut up. I ignored. I hid from what was right there in front of my face. I did my time as clean as possible, all in an effort to get out of prison and figure this out.”

“What was the plan after you got out?”

What had been the plan? Run some more. That had been the plan. “I was going to try to save whatever I made working here on the farm then I guess start back at the beginning? See if maybe my parents left something behind to help me figure this out. I still have some of their things in a storage unit in Massachusetts—maybe I missed something when I was looking for who might have murdered them.”

“Makes total sense. And now? What do you plan to do now, Bernie?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“After tonight’s fiasco…I don’t know…”

“The one where you saved Gus’ hide and displayed an amazing feat of willpower and magic, you mean?”

His words warmed her soul, sat right in her heart and got comfortable. “I don’t even know how that happened. I don’t know why I knew I could grab that thing, whatever it was—”

“A devastation spell.”

Bernie planted her elbow on her knee and let her chin rest in her hand while she mulled the word devastation. “Good to know. You people have spells for everything, don’t you? I don’t know how I knew what to do, but once I was holding it, once Fee gave me some direction, it all clicked.”

“Well, the good news is, my people are now your people, Bernie, and with the kind of power you have, I can’t believe you didn’t wipe out a small country. I can’t believe your parents would leave you in such a precarious state willingly, with no guidance at all. Which means something’s not right here. I just don’t know what ‘not right’ means.”

That boulder she carried around on her shoulders suddenly felt lighter. “Well, if you don’t know, I don’t know. I’ve lived with this for a very long time, thinking it was just a case of some severely rotten luck, but having some answers would be a relief.”

“So I’d say this deserves some investigation, don’t you? It also means you need to talk to Winnie and the other witches in town, Bernie. You have to tell them about this. They can teach you things that a warlock like me can’t.”

“Who said you had to teach me anything?”

His chuckle resonated in her ears, warm and rumbly when he knocked her knee with his and squeezed her hand. “Don’t get all prickly on me, pretty lady. I’m offering my help—stop biting the hand and all. What I’m saying is, you don’t have to hide anymore, Bernie, or apologize for every accident that occurs. First, because you can’t afford not to learn how to use your power—someone could end up seriously hurt if you don’t know what you’re doing, and once you learn, there probably won’t be any more accidents. Second, we’re a community. We rally. That’s just how it goes here in Paris.”

He was offering his help as part of the community. Her flushed cheeks and raging libido crashed. Everyone in Paris loved Ridge for a reason. He was a decent man who happened to be hotter than the month of July on Mars.

But she couldn’t deny she needed help. Not after tonight.

He ran a finger down the length of her nose when he asked, “So whaddya say we teach you how to be a witch?”

And she tried to liken his affection to that of a friendly gesture. “I say yee-haw.”

“Then I volunteer as tribute.”

“May the odds be ever in your favor.”

Orchid whinnied her approval, making them both laugh.





Chapter 10



“Atta girl!” Flora nodded her approval while knitting an afghan beneath a canopy tent with Fee curled happily at her feet. “You got it now, Bernie!”

They were just a few feet beyond the edge of Ridge’s property, not far from the barn and the big pecan tree the seniors so favored. The seniors had gone to the town hall and looked up a survey of Ridge’s land. To everyone’s surprise, they’d discovered, his land ended not too far from where she spent most of her days.

So they’d set up a makeshift camp with chairs and a picnic table so Bernie could practice her magic every day at lunch without being hindered by the no-magic rule Ridge’s father had placed on the farm.

And it was paying off.

Sweat pooled in her newly purchased bra, but by hell, she could levitate a John Deere for twenty minutes and counting at a time. Things were looking up.