Page 57 of Season of the Witch (Toil and Trouble #3)

Tia carefully secured the small tiara in Emma’s hair, adjusting the folds of teal gauze around her friend’s face. Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes but she refused, she absolutely refused, to cry.

“All done,” she said, with a voice much too thick for her liking. She took a moment to just look and couldn’t help sighing. “You’re beautiful, Em.”

“Let me see.” Leah nudged Tia aside, holding her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, Emma.”

Color scored Emma’s cheekbones. “You guys are going to make me cry.”

With a short breath, she turned to the mirror in the suite of High House. Isabella had offered it to them as a wedding venue and only a fool turned that down.

Emma had always been the shy witch, the one who thought of herself as brown and boring. Imperfect. But Tia had watched the past two years as Emma had blossomed, finding new confidence, and she saw it culminate now, here, in this one moment. When Emma looked in the mirror at herself.

And smiled.

Bastian was going to swallow his tongue, Tia thought as she, Emma and Leah hugged it out before she slipped out to fetch Sloane for Emma…and to check on a few things. The wedding had been months in planning but she couldn’t help it. Everything had to be perfect.

A wolf whistle pierced the air as she ducked under a flower arch, and she whirled to see Henry leaning against the brick wall of the guesthouse where Emma was getting ready. Dressed in gray with a teal bow tie, platinum hair mussed, he was utterly gorgeous, but it was his grin that drew her in.

“Spies aren’t welcome,” she scolded, unable to help walking toward him.

Maybe swaying her hips just a little in the bridesmaid dress Emma had chosen—dove gray, to her displeasure, but hey, it wasn’t her getting married.

And judging from the way Henry’s eyes heated as they dipped over the satin mermaid gown, she pulled it off.

He put an innocent hand to his chest. “No recon,” he promised. Then grinned. “Okay, Bastian wants to make sure Emma’s okay.”

“She’s fine. She’s more than fine. And he’s a lucky bastard.”

“He knows it.” Henry caught her hand, tangling their fingers together. “So am I.”

“I know.” She squeaked as he spanked her.

“Less of the lip unless you want me to ask another question.”

Exasperation filled her. “Those questions have expired.”

“We never negotiated a time limit.” He dipped his head and whispered in her ear. “What are you wearing under there?”

She smiled slowly. “Moisturizer.”

He looked pained as he leaned back. “Fuck. I have to stand up in front of three hundred people in forty minutes.”

“Shouldn’t play games you can’t win.”

His eye took on a gleam. “Forty minutes…we could do a lot in forty minutes.”

A laugh caught in her throat as he advanced. “Henry Charles, I do not have…ah…time for…oh, fuck …”

Twenty minutes later, she slumped against him, breathing hard.

They’d found an unused greenhouse and within minutes, he’d had her balanced on one of the tables, dress around her waist. She wished she could be angry about the mess he’d no doubt made her into, but it was so damn hard when she’d had a breath-stealing orgasm. Besides, that was what magic was for.

She laughed when she saw the state of the pots behind him. “Lose control there, sparky?”

He lazily looked up from where he’d buried his head in her neck, glancing back at the incinerated pots. “I’ll transfer some money.” He kissed her, lingering. “Worth it.”

They pulled themselves together and walked back to where the ceremony was being held.

If they’d been honest, Emma and Bastian would’ve preferred eloping, but both their parents had been all for a ceremony.

Tia figured Emma had gone along for Bastian’s parents more than for her own mom, who was being watched by Kole for now, seated next to her in a tailored navy suit, alongside Emma’s other sour-faced brothers.

It was sunset, which meant the moon would be rising soon, paving the way for the ceremony. Tia checked with the wedding planner—who informed her icily that this was her job—and with the priestess who was performing the rites, ignoring Henry’s obvious amusement at her inability to relax.

He was one to talk, considering he’d been back at PH Inc. after a month.

He and his dad had talked it out a few days after the New Year’s party.

Richard was a dick but at least he could apologize.

According to Henry, his dad had fumbled through an explanation about the way he’d been raised and how focusing on work had been a way to show affection and connection with his son. Something they could have in common.

Tia could buy that, but she was less convinced that Richard’s disdain of her had been founded on his belief she’d break his son’s heart. Apparently, she was hard to read , which he’d interpreted as selfish and spoiled. He hadn’t wanted Henry to be hurt again.

She knew she had her own issues to work through about fathers, though.

She’d been thinking more and more about a conversation with her biological dad to see if it would help, though she still wasn’t sure if it was something she wanted or if it felt like an obligation.

She knew whatever she decided, Henry would be there.

He deserved the same from her with his dad.

With the air clear and them meeting up to bro bond , as she called it, he’d given in to her demands to come back to work very quickly.

She loved it. Not only did she have him in her office as a sounding board and sparring partner, she got to say she told him so every day.

And she couldn’t deny office quickies had their appeal.

Two days. They’d lasted two days before they changed their office walls to opaque glass. It didn’t suck to be the boss.

Even she and Richard had come to some new understanding, slow and tentative as it was.

They both loved Henry, after all, and both had fucked-up ways of communicating it.

They were trying. As for Maybelline and Gloria, those two were so delighted by the renewal, someone might think they’d had a hand in it all.

She pitied Henry because soon enough whispers of proposals would start.

They weren’t there yet. Eventually, maybe, but they were still learning to talk things through instead of withdraw. They had a long way to go but both were willing to put the effort in. And that was what mattered.

With one more apology to make, they’d portaled back to England a few weeks after New Year’s to talk to Siddeley.

Mildred had demanded they be thrown out, but surprisingly, Siddeley had walked with them down to Westhollow, where they’d told him the whole truth over coffee and doughnuts in Pie Hard.

Maybe it was because Tia hadn’t hidden her delight at seeing Rudy again, and the feeling was entirely mutual.

Maybe it was because they’d stripped themselves embarrassingly bare by admitting everything.

Maybe it was because they were obviously so happy with each other now.

Whatever it was, he’d listened to it all. He’d yet to make an investment, but he had reached out last week and invited them to dinner. So who knew what would happen in the future. Business wasn’t everything.

Tia caught Henry’s eye as she made her way back to the guesthouse. Progress was a thousand little steps. Sometimes it was a sincere apology. Sometimes it was a glass cat. Sometimes it was reaching out instead of playing safe.

Emma and Leah had taught her that. And Henry.

And when Bastian turned to see Emma walking down the aisle with Kole, dressed in the teal silk gown she’d worn for him, when he blinked back furious tears and walked to meet her as if he couldn’t stop himself, Tia’s heart sang.

Leah didn’t even try to hold back her tears, Gabriel kissing her temple and conjuring tissue after tissue.

But it was later, when they’d vowed under the Goddess’ moon to love each other for forever and a day, when they’d cut the cake Emma had baked with Bastian’s assistance, when they’d danced their first of many under the veil of stars, that Tia sank back into Henry’s arms.

“Today was a good day,” she murmured as they danced. His hand flexed on her back as he hummed in agreement.

Her eyes followed the line of dancers to Melly, Gabriel’s little sister, and Sloane, the teenagers giggling at something.

Sloane had insisted she come face the monsters once and for all, and under her half sister’s plea, Emma hadn’t had the heart to refuse.

She’d worried about her mom, but the little half-human, half-witch had everyone in her corner.

Sloane was as safe as a witch in her own coven.

Oh, she’d been nervous; that had been as plain as the gray dress she’d worn. In a strange twist, it hadn’t been until Gabriel had walked over, offered her his hand and whirled her around the dance floor that she’d lost her anxious expression.

The girls spun crazily now, squealing loudly and almost knocking into an elder couple. Emma called out, chastising, which only prompted Bastian to spin his bride around until she shrieked with her own laughter.

Business as usual.

To her right, Gabriel and Leah swayed, his arms tight like he knew he held something precious. In an unguarded moment as he listened to her talk, everything he felt for her friend reflected in his face, naked for the world to see. Unashamed.

It made Tia smile. At least until she caught sight of Kole at the edge of the dance floor.

Even from her vantage point, the air of regret surrounding him was obvious.

She hurt for him, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny Gabriel had done what Kole hadn’t.

He’d moved mountains for Leah. He hadn’t settled.

He’d fought, his fears and the world, for her. She deserved that. Everyone did.

Still, it wasn’t nice to see anyone hurting and she was about to pull away from Henry when someone else appeared at his side. His shoulders stiffened as Isabella spoke to him, luminous in silver lace that hugged her curves and set off her light brown skin.

Well, at least it was a distraction.

“I have a question,” came Henry’s voice at her ear.

Tia sighed, attention returning to him. Glowing orbs above the dance floor mingled, mirroring the stars, floating between the dancers. She flicked one away from her hand, a light buzz on her skin, before looking up into Henry’s eyes.

He toyed with her nape. “Are you happy?”

She couldn’t restrain the smile that slid over her lips like silk. “Yes,” she answered softly. “Are you?”

He hummed. “I have very few complaints.” He laughed when she hit him, drawing her in.

She let him kiss her, drifting in that space between reality and dreams. When he lifted his head, she waited one more blissful second. Then, narrowing her eyes, she poked him in the chest. “Now, about that dating ban you put on me…”

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