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

“Brad Pitt. Duh.”


Bernie laughed, spritzing herself with the cheap body spray from the drugstore. “Would you like to stay here in Paris?”

“Oh, Bernie girl, I can hardly contain my excitement! Are you considering staying here with all the cowboys and cow pies? Like right here surrounded by Field of Dreams country?”

Hope blossomed in her chest, making her almost afraid to say it out loud. “I’m ashamed to admit this, but when Calla thought I was Ridge, she mentioned offering me a job at the center as event coordinator. First, it should be noted that when I’ve done this shifting before, I never remembered it. So remembering my conversation with Calla is an enormous step forward. Second, I like it here, Fee. I love the seniors and Winnie and Calla, and I really love the horses. Especially Orchid.”

“And you’ve taken me into consideration when making big life decisions?”

She crossed the room and sat on the bed, pulling her sassy familiar into her lap and scratching his chin. “Of course I have, Fee. You’re my right hand. My Robin. My macaroni. My jelly.”

“First, I’m the cheese, honey. Always. Second, well, hush my puppies, we have a home—at last.”

Excitement built in her stomach, a flutter of hope she might have found somewhere to grow some roots. “I think we just might.”

“Bet the old Ridgester will be happy to hear that.”

Her excitement waffled momentarily. “If what Calla said is true, then he’s only here to fix up the farm. He wants to go back to Dallas.”

“Then you’d better buff up your charms, B-Bop, because we need a nice man to complete our family picture.”

“I’m not buffing up anything, and I don’t need a man to feel complete. I had one for all of twenty seconds and look what happened. I robbed a bank. Besides, there’s nothing going on between me and Ridge.” Even if she wanted there to be something going on. A lot.

“That shift into his form means something, Bernie. It’s bigger than you think. If shifts are emotionally charged, your green light is on, Plum Puddin’.”

She set him on the bed and grabbed her purse from the nightstand with a scoff. “I have to go or I’m going to be late.”

“You can run, but you can’t hide. Bernie likes The Ridge-a-nator!”

“See you later, Fee!” she called out as she popped open her bedroom door and headed down the stairs.

Stopping at the entryway, she decided to poke her head in on Winnie and her daughter Lola. Their heads bent together as they looked at a gardening magazine made Bernie smile. Ben was tinkering with something and chatting with his son in the kitchen while soft classical music played and Benny Junior sat in his high chair, eating Cheerios, his pudgy hands driving them into his mouth.

An enormous glass vase with blue and white hydrangeas drooping down the sides held some of the latest bounty from the garden, and Winnie’s familiar, a Cabbage Patch doll named Icabod, sat propped up against it on the table in front of them, three bows crookedly tied in his tufts of hair.

“’Lo, Bernie. Lookin’ sharp tonight,” Icabod said.

She was still trying to keep it together where this doll was concerned. Sure, she had a cat that talked, but a doll? Still, Icabod was always friendly, and she was, after all, learning to overcome her fears. What was one more creepy doll fear?

Bernie grinned in his general direction, wondering how he could see her, but opting not to ask. Some magical things were just better left alone. “Thanks, Icabod.”

Lola grinned up at her. “You look pretty, Miss Bernie. I like that shirt a lot better than the one with all the poofy birds on it. Do you want me to put a ribbon in your hair to match it?”

“Give that serious thought, Bernie,” Icabod crowed.

“Thank you, Lola,” she said on a laugh, ruffling her hair. “And as much as I wish I could, because I love bows almost as much as Fee, I’ll be late meeting my study partner. Can I get a rain check?”

Lola bobbed her head. “Uh-huh. We’re looking at hy-drain-gee-ass. See?” She pointed to the picture of a fluffy blue bush of flowers. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Hydrangeas,” Winnie corrected with a chuckle and a roll of her eyes.

“Very pretty, Lola. I see somebody lost a tooth, huh?”

Lola nodded, hopping up on the chair. Using her index fingers, she stretched her mouth open so Bernie could see inside, her excitement visible in her big dark eyes. “Uh-huh. I lost it at school today. I’m almost a dult now.”

Winnie clucked her tongue, her eyes amused. “An adult, and why don’t you tell Miss Bernie just how you lost that tooth, Lola-Falola.”

Lola’s slight shoulders slumped in her pink pajamas. “I was hanging upside down in the tree at school and I fell.”

“And why were you hanging upside down in the tree at school, devilish one?” Winnie asked.