“It should be good; it’s been down in the storm cellar fermenting forever. I dug it out especially for tonight.”
“Is the storm cellar those doors beside the barn that look like a place where a serial killers locks up his victims?”
Ridge laughed, the ripple of muscles in his abs making her shiver. “That’s the one. Technically, it’s an underground storm shelter for tornadoes. But through the years, we’ve mostly used it to store things that aren’t bodies. Promise.”
She giggled as she took a quick look around and wondered out loud, “So you grew up in this house?”
He gave her a bite of pizza, catching the cheese escaping her mouth by capturing it between his lips. “I did. My parents bought it back in the late eighteen-hundreds, and we’ve been here ever since.”
She shook her head with an ironic smile. “I keep forgetting how old you are.”
“Your file from Baba Yaga said you’re thirty. You’ve got some catching up with me to do.”
“My file?”
“Don’t get bent out of shape,” he teased, planting a kiss on her lips. “It has minimal information. Your set of work skills, your age, any special health needs and so on. All the stuff a boss needs to know about his parolees.”
She snorted into her wine glass. “Sorry. I’m still a sensitive ex-con. So let’s talk family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
His face darkened a bit at the mention of siblings. “One brother. Finn. He’s the one responsible for the stash of expensive wine in the storm cellar. He’s actually why I’m here in Paris.”
“So this isn’t voluntary, being on the farm?”
“Yes and no. After my parents died, Finn was handling the farm, or so I thought. About six months ago, I got a call from Nash, telling me he’d jumped ship. No one’s heard from him since.”
Bernie set her pizza down on her paper plate and gripped his fingers. “I’m sorry. Were you close?”
“We were, but in recent years, he’d kind of gone off the rails. Wouldn’t talk to me or even my folks. But I never expected to come home to this.”
“He left you in a mess, I take it?”
She watched the tic in his sharp jaw bounce. “The damn place is falling apart, and we can’t use magic on the farm. My father wouldn’t allow it. He wanted us to know what hard work really was, so he put some kind of spell on it. Which means all of the repairs became my responsibility when Finn up and took off.”
And she’d set his barn on fire, adding to his misery. “And I really helped by burning down your barn.”
He dropped another kiss on the end of her nose before taking a healthy bite of his slice of pizza. “You didn’t burn it down, Snuggle Puff, you just gave it that smoky, toasted-marshmallow feel. It’s all okay. I’ll just add it to the list of renovations.”
An idea began to form, one she planned to organize if at all possible. “Glenda-Jo said your mom loved the barn.”
Ridge smiled. Obviously the memory evoked warmth. “She did. Sort of like you do. She loved the horses just like you, too.”
“I’ve heard a lot about her from the seniors. They have great respect for her memory.”
“She was an amazing lady. My dad was a good guy, too. Strict, but a great teacher, provider and lover of all things nature. What about your parents?”
Bernie sipped at her wine and sighed, trying not to let her grief ruin this moment. “Well, there’s the obvious witch question mark, but aside from that, they were pretty normal. Both school teachers, both loved by our small community. I miss them. I have so many questions I want to ask them now.”
“Have you given more thought to going back to Boston to give their stuff in storage another hard look?”
“I have. I mean, I have to, right? I can’t just let this all go, Ridge. I need to know if they knew, and if they did, why they’d keep it from me.”
“Any word on where Baba is and if she’s going to listen to reason and let you off?”
Her eyes rolled upward. “That woman’s like Carmen Sandiego. No one knows where in the world she is.”
“Baba is known to just take off on a whim. You could be here a while.”
“What about you? What do you do in Dallas?”
“I own a securities consulting firm.”
He owned a company? Why would he abandon that to run a farm? Her heart sank. “So being here is really mucking things up, I’ll bet.”
He shrugged, his broad shoulders gleaming in the dim light. “Not so much. I have a partner who keeps things moving pretty smoothly.”
“In the interest of ‘just saying it’, do you plan to go back to Dallas once the farm’s on the mend?”
Witch Is The New Black (Paris, Texas Romance #3)
Dakota Cassidy's books
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