Page 56 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

“Either way, it smells good, and it’s cold out here. Let’s go back in.”

I nodded slowly, my eyes still glued to the taillights of her car as it disappeared down the driveway.

Never in a million years did I think someone from town would willingly show up at our house, let alone bring us food—despite that being a deep-rooted Southern tradition when someone in the community was sick or struggling.

And yet, here we were.

As I stood there, something warm settled in my stomach.

Maybe there was hope for this town yet.

The rest of the night was full of laughter and games, and a lot more people showing up at the house with dish after dish until our fridge and freezer looked like we were stockpiling casseroles for the apocalypse.

I was floored.

Flabbers completely gasted each time the door swung open to reveal another neighbor bearing food.

Pies and cakes littered the counters. Jambalaya, gumbo, and breakfast casseroles had been packed into every available cold space, and what didn’t fit got divided up between the Jacksons and Taylor.

Needless to say, no one needed to cook for a while.

As midnight rolled around, we all huddled by the front door, slipping on coats and contributing to the Southern goodbyes that always took thirty minutes longer than they should.

They started somewhere in the house then transitioned out the door, where another ten to fifteen minute conversation would commence. Then they moved to the porch.

Then someone insisted on walking you to your car, and the process would repeat until someone finally caved and left.

So far, we’d only made it to the foyer, and we’d been there for about fifteen minutes.

“Well, Evie, I think you’re set on food for a while,” Josie—Jaelyn’s mom—laughed as she slipped her arms into her coat and stepped through the door that Mr. Bill was holding open with an impatient look on his face.

“Too much food. You and Bill sure you don’t want to take anything else home?” my aunt asked, her voice taking on a pleading tone as we all followed them out onto the porch.

“Honey, our ice chest is already full, and so is the icebox at home. But I’m sure Doctor Hallows over there would love to take more.”

Josie arched her brows at Taylor.

I watched as he fumbled over how to respond—we’d already filled an entire ice chest with food for his place, and I wasn’t sure his fridge could hold much more.

Taylor palmed the back of his neck, his face flushing. “Uhh… of course… sure. I’d love to take some more off your hands.”

The women erupted into laughter, my aunt clutching her slinged arm closer to her chest as she shook with mirth.

When they finally calmed, Josie kissed Aunt Evie’s cheek, embraced each of my sisters, then turned to me.

She wrapped me in a warm hug before grinning up at Taylor. “You’re a sweetheart,” she cooed, patting his cheek as she passed on her way to the front door.

We all stood on the porch, watching as the Jacksons loaded into their car, then waved as they drove away—until their taillights became nothing but a blip in the darkness.

I was dog tired. Bone weary.

All I wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for ten-plus hours.

And now that everyone had gone, I could finally do just that.

But as I turned toward the door, Taylor caught my wrist and tugged me into his arms. Perched on the railing, he kissed me long and slow.

“Hi, sunshine.”

“Hiya, cowboy.”

“A lot of people showed up for y’all tonight.”

“They did. It was a little weird, but also… nice? I’ve never really felt like I belonged here. Let alone that people cared.”

“And now?”

“Now… I don’t know. It’s hard to process when you’ve basically been a pariah all your life. But I guess it’s nice to know that there are people in this town who actually have my family’s back.”

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t curse the whole town?” he asked, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips.

“Taylor!”

“What? Too soon?” He laughed.

“Hardy har har,” I groaned, letting my head fall against his shaking chest as I blew out a heavy breath. Taylor pressed a kiss to my crown, then nudged my chin up so I had no choice but to look into his eyes.

My lanta. It was like willingly getting lost at sea when I stared into those sapphire blues.

“I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you, too.”

I don’t think I’d ever tire of seeing his face light up like a Fourth of July fireworks show when I said those three little words. It happened every single time, and every single time, my heart flipped.

“Come home with me. Stay with me.”

“You… you want me to move in?”

“If you want just a drawer and a toothbrush first, we can do that. But I want you in that house, Magnolia. I want it to really, truly be our home. I may have bought it because you liked it, but it doesn’t feel right when you’re not there.

I want to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.

But we go at your pace, baby. I don’t want to push you into—”

“Yes,” I said swiftly, cutting him off.

“Yes? You’re… you’re sure?”

His eyes widened with excitement, and as I nodded, tears welled in my own. I pressed my lips to his—hard, insistent—before pulling back just enough to whisper, “Never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you. I just need to say bye to everyone first.”

“Bye!” my sisters and aunt hollered in unison from inside the house.

“I will not miss the lack of privacy!” I yelled back, though I couldn’t help but laugh when they answered with a chorus of, “Love you!” before the front door clicked shut.

A smile permanently affixed to my face, I turned back to the man I loved more than I ever could have fathomed. “Take me home, cowboy.”

One month later…

I stood behind the counter, absently fingering the necklace Taylor had surprised me with for Christmas, a goofy smile on my face. It was beautiful, and when he’d explained the meaning behind it, I’d cried… again.

Mother above, I was tired of crying.

But how could I not, when the man I loved had told me, “It’s called a sunset pendant, so now you can carry our sunsets with you wherever you go.”

Needless to say, I’d swooned—hard. Then I’d fussed at him when I realized exactly how much he’d spent on it.

I let my mind drift as I watched customers chatter in the booths and browse the display cases.

The grand reopening of CharCutie was going off without a hitch.

I’d arrived to a line at the front door, and cheers erupted as I flipped the sign to open.

We’d been slammed since, and I’d never been more grateful for this small town.

I’d never been the one they rallied behind, and finally being on the receiving end of that kind of support? It was a feeling like no other.

“We’re out of mini king cakes, Mags,” Jaelyn said, rounding the counter with a fresh tray of pastries.

“Already? It’s only one o’clock.”

“They sell like hot cakes… Pun intended.”

We both laughed, but mine died off as the bell chimed over the door.

Sophie Larson had only set foot in my shop once in the three years I’d been open. And yet, there she was, looking no happier than I was to have her there.

“Sophie,” I greeted in my cherriest customer service voice.

She rolled her eyes, scoffing, but took another step forward as the bell chimed again behind her.

“Sophie Marie Larson,” a woman scolded as she stepped inside, and that’s when I realized exactly who she was—her mother.

And the way she was glaring at her daughter made me want to burst into laughter.

Sophie was Taylor’s age—thirty-four—so seeing her get reprimanded like a misbehaving teenager was comical, to say the least. I risked a glance down at Jaelyn, who was crouched behind the pastry case, eyes wide, lips curled inward to keep from laughing.

“What’s happening?” she whispered.

“I don’t know—”

“Go. Now.” Mrs. Larson shoved her daughter forward.

“Shit, she’s coming this way.”

“Brace for impact,” Jae joked, ducking lower and busying herself with the pastry case.

Sophie huffed as she approached the counter, and I prayed to the triple goddesses that I could keep from cracking up. I had no idea what was happening, but I had a distinct feeling I needed a bucket of popcorn to fully enjoy it.

“Sophie. Mrs. Larson. How can I help you ladies today?”

“Hi, sweetie. I’ll grab some pastries in a bit, but first…” She nudged her daughter again, and I could feel the way Sophie’s skin must have been crawling under her mother’s scorching glare.

“My daughter has something she’d like to say to you.”

Sophie took a deep breath, glaring at me as she ground out, “I’m. Sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I raised you better than that, missy. You do it right, and you do it right now.”

Sophie’s eyes widened, jaw tightening, but when she spoke again, her voice was less strained. “Magnolia, I’d like to apologize for my part in making you feel unwelcome in this town. I was raised better than that, and bullying is wrong.”

There was no way in hell I believed a single word. But watching her squirm? That was repentance enough.

Apparently not for her mother, though.

“Sophie,” Mrs. Larson ground out, her face turning a mottled shade of red.

Jaelyn snickered behind the counter, and I shot her a quick glare before either woman could catch it. They were locked in some silent argument, and it was clear Sophie was losing.

“Mrs. Larson, it’s quite alright. We’re both adults, and I believe we can move on from this and be cordial.”

“You’re such a sweetie.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Now, what can I get you today? We just put out some fresh croissants.”

Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better, I thought as I helped Mrs. Larson with her selections.

Not only was my business thriving again, but I’d gotten an—albeit forced—apology from Sophie, and I’d seen Kyle picking up litter on the side of the road in a bright orange vest on my way in this morning.