This must be some new kind of mind game. I refuse to fall for it.
I turn until my mouth is inches from his. “Maybe I want to tempt dangerous things.” I watch his nostrils flare. “It’s the best way to lay a trap.”
Then, I twist my hand in a practiced gesture, tugging on my magic—the strands of power that constantly thrum just under my skin—and I wait a second in relish.
Only to watch as Manny whips his hand up in time to catch the shiny red apple hurtling through the air toward his dense head. He straightens and palms the fruit projectile I commanded a tree to chuck at him with a little mystical urging.
The wolf grins. “My reflexes have improved since high school,Bud.” He emphasizes the annoying nickname he granted me years ago with a large, taunting bite of the crimson flesh.
I long for our younger days where he never saw the apples coming and I got to watch them nail him, the impact resulting in an explosion of juicy mush.
“Have they?”
I ram my fist into his gut, then whirl on my heel, sauntering away with the lovely sound of him wheezing blending perfectly with the opening strains of the wedding band.
I should’ve known Manny would expect the apple attack. It was my go-to revenge when we were teenagers anytime he would taunt me. I’ll have to think of new methods to knock that smirk off his face. Because I can count on one thing: I’ll never escape Manny Ramirez.
Not as long as he and Heather are best friends.
And the only thing the wolf loves as much as my sister is making me furious.
2
MANNY
Gettinga fist to the gut shouldn’t leave me hard, but that’s what Blossom Fernmore does to me. To be fair, I deserved it.
There was no bee.
What there was, was a witch who smelled like warm apples and cloves, draped in soft fabric, with two tempting bows inches from my fingers.
I wasn’tactuallygoing to untie them.
I just wanted to feel the knots. Make sure they were sturdy.
Then store the sensation of my grip on them for later tonight when I’m in my bed and I take myself in my hand with fantasies where the sassy-mouthed wood witch lets me unravel her in all ways.
Keep it in your pants.
During my best friend’s beautiful wedding reception, I should be focused on celebrating the happy occasion and not on how much I want to fuck her sister.
Although Heather would probably find my pining and failed attempts at flirting hilarious. She knows about my infatuationwith Blossom. Two years ago, after Heather told me her sister moved in with a new boyfriend—some human asshole named Teddy—I got roaring drunk. My friend hauled my wasted ass home from Local Brew—the town’s werewolf-owned bar—and on the car ride, I confessed my yearslong obsession with her baby sister.
The next morning, once I was sober, Heather told me she wouldn’t mind if Blossom and I ended up together. Only she doubted it would happen since I’d spent a good portion of my life making the little wood witch hate me.
Not the best pep talk despite the fact that Heather was only speaking the truth.
During our teenage years, I had done exactly as she said. Tried my hardest to make Blossom think I was a prick so she’d keep her distance. It was a form of self-preservation.
At least, that was what I had convinced myself of at the time.
When I have my arousal under control, I join the rest of the wedding party. The gathering is small but lively. Everyone invited to this ceremony knows about magic and the mythical creatures who live in Folk Haven. When Jenny moved to our small town for an engineering position at the Folk Haven Dam three years ago, she wasn’t aware mythics existed. But then things got serious with Heather, and the witch decided to share the truth. Luckily, everything went smoothly.
My eyes catch on a flash of green velvet, and I wonder what words I could say to Blossom to untangle the mess I’ve made of our relationship over the years.
I need more time around her. She’s always leaving before I can get my brain to work right.
“Manny!” There’s a hand on my wrist, and I turn to find the smiling face of my best friend.
