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

Bernie reacted by attempting to shrug her off, but Doris gripped her even harder. “You don’t want to do that, Bernie.”


“Get the hell off me, Doris!” she bellowed, yanking her arm away just as the feeling Ridge had taught her to identify began to swell. The feeling that something horrible was going to happen if she didn’t take control.

The only problem was, she had no time to take control before someone else said, “Bernie, my favorite felon. How’s tricks, baby girl?”

Just before she saw a flash of magic—magic she could now identify as shady magic, one that forced her into a deep vortex of nothing.



“Mornin’, Winnie. I’ve come calling for Bernie. She around?”

Winnie grinned at Ridge and clapped her hands before pulling him inside the house. The seniors were gathered at the table with Calla, Lola, Greta, and Fee, studying a chart of some plant or another.

“I’m so excited!” she said, tucking his arm under hers and propelling him toward the group. “Look who’s here, ladies and gents! It’s the man of the hour!”

Everyone yelled “Hey, Ridge” with knowing smiles on their faces until Greta blew her whistle.

“Y’all dirty birds be respectful. It ain’t nobody’s business but Ridge and Bernie’s if they did the do!”

Ridge fought a snicker. Had Bernie already told them about last night? That didn’t seem like her. It was more likely Joellen Landry had gotten to chattering with Flora. She lived just down the road from Winnie, and it wasn’t unlikely she’d seen Bernie pull up at three in the morning during one of what she called her “episodes”. Not much went unnoticed in Paris. He should know that by now.

Gus grunted into his Styrofoam cup of coffee. “Humph. Stole my girl, didja? What do you have that I don’t?”

“Abs?” Glenda-Jo said with a fluttery giggle.

“Muscles comin’ out your ears?” Flora chimed in with a laugh.

“A tight butt!” Joellen said on a scream of giggles.

“Bah!” Gus groused, though his expression was teasing. “Can’t believe she’d want a muscle-head farmer when she could have debonair and witty me.”

Ridge laughed, holding out a hand to Gus. “Best man wins, friend?”

Gus rolled his eyes, but took Ridge’s hand. “Yeah, yeah. I guess if it couldn’t be me, I’d pick you, too. With all those muscles and abs and all,” he drawled begrudgingly, giving Glenda-Jo and Flora the eye.

He scanned the room, looking for Bernie. “So where’s she at? Thought I might see if she’d like a little late breakfast over at Sweetie’s Diner.”

He’d awakened early for morning chores today, but he didn’t feel at all tired. He felt invigorated, happy—really happy. Bernie was something he hadn’t expected or even wanted at this point in his life, but after last night, he knew he wanted more.

The ease of their conversations once Bernie wasn’t playing cautious astounded him. The intenseness of their lovemaking had plain knocked his socks off.

He wanted to watch her wake up in the morning, fall asleep next to him at night. Laugh when she made a cow disappear instead of a bale of hay. Sit on the front porch with her and watch the world go by as they shared a beer and ate cheesy puffs from a bag.

He wanted to get to know her, to replace the losses of her past and fill them up with the promise of a future.

Fee was the first to speak up, his tail with the pink bow swizzling in the air. “Wait. If you’re here, and she’s not with you—where is she?”

A small alarm bell sounded in his brain. But it was still vague. “She’s not here? Maybe she took a walk? She said she liked walking most in the mornings because the sun didn’t set her head on fire…”

Fee began to pace the length of the table, his voice frantic. “I thought she was with you! She never came home last night, Ridge!”

Now the bell in his brain was louder, more insistent. “Are you sure, Fee? She left my house at three in the morning. I walked her out to the car myself.”

“Damn right I’m sure, Hot Pants! I do sleep with her. Her bed is untouched!”

The front door flew open then, Daphne appearing in the frame, her blonde hair mussed from the dry winds that had picked up. “Oh, thank God you’re here, Ridge! Where’s Bernie? We need to talk!”

A pressing, undeniable panic began to stir in his gut, but he was opting to remain calm. There was likely an explanation for her whereabouts. He’d learned in the securities business to keep cool.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out now, Daphne,” Winnie said as she handed Lola off to her husband Ben, who took her out to the garden.

As the seniors began to grumble, Calla held up a hand. “Everyone just stay calm until we shouldn’t.”

“Tell us what you have, Daphne,” Winnie insisted, motioning her to join them and pouring her a cup of coffee.