Page 11 of Hex Appeal

I’ve thought about her more times this week than I care to admit.

Usually at inconvenient moments. Like now.

My mind helpfully supplies an image of Serena standing in front of me again, arms crossed beneath her breasts, green eyes flashing.

My body reacts immediately.

I shift my stance in an effort, poor as it might be, to avoid becoming rock hard in the middle of the town square. Closing my fists, I cross my hands in front of my pants. If nothing else, it might hide the evidence.

Beau glances down. Then back up. His eyebrows rise.

I growl. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“I really wasn’t.”

“You were thinking it.”

He snorts. “So you met the redhead.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs.

I look around, mostly because I need something to focus on that isn't Serena.

Booths line both sides of the square, covered in pumpkins, mums, baked goods, handmade crafts, and enough fall decorations to bury the entire town.

“Anyway,” I say, “I’m going back to work.”

“Enjoy your donut.”

“Enjoy your date.”

“That’s the plan.”

He starts to walk away.

“Oh, and Beau?” He turns. “Good luck.”

He flips me off again and disappears into the crowd.

I finish the last bite of my donut and turn toward the booth directly in front of me.

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Those Spellbound sisters are a little woo-woo for me.”

I look up. Too late, I realize where I’m standing.

A familiar redhead stands behind a table filled with candles, staring at me with amusement dancing in those dazzling green eyes.

Beside her is a dark-haired woman with the exact same eyes.

She isn’t amused. At all.

I slowly lower my cider.