Barely Bewitched Read Online Free PDF Page B

full-grown rottweiler, had once attacked Mercutio. Merc still had the stitches from that fight. I just hate bullies.
    “Angus is chained,” Bryn said, stepping into the light from between a pair of oaks.
    “Oh, good.” I took a deep breath to steady myself and set Merc down. “Hey there.”
    “Hey, yourself. You’re trespassing.”
    I widened my eyes. “You want me to go?”
    Bryn didn’t answer that. Instead, he strode over to me until he was too close. “You know, I’m a little tired of hearing that you’re never going to see me again, only to have you turn up when you need something,” he said.
    I wrinkled my nose and hoped my face wasn’t too flushed with embarrassment, since he did have a point. “Who says I need something?” I said, trying to seem innocent.
    His gaze flicked to the stolen paddleboat, then back to me. He arched a brow.
    “Well, actually . . .” I said.
    He leaned closer. I smelled sandalwood and spices, and his power made my lips tingle.
    “At your house, when Sutton showed up . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t like being dismissed.” Our mouths were almost touching. “You need to decide whether you and I are friends or not.”
    “It’s not up to me,” I said, exasperated.
    I tilted my head, still feeling a current of power crackling between us. His uneven breaths were minty against my mouth. I needed to back away, but the chemistry between us was harder to resist than a chocolate éclair.
    “Tamara,” he whispered as his hands tangled in my hair. He held me still while his mouth covered mine.
    I heard the rushing of the waterfall and tasted honey and magic. I slid my arms around him, my fingertips pressing the muscles of his back.
    With my eyes closed, I barely registered the flash of light that signaled Edie’s arrival. “You’re turning into quite the biscuit,” her disapproving voice said.
    I jerked back from Bryn, leaving us both gasping for breath. He reached for me, but I batted his hand away in a classic Mercutio move.
    “We’re not alone,” I said.
    Bryn’s gaze swiveled to Edie, and he said to her, “Ah, the family ghost, I presume. So that’s what you look like, as stunning as all the Trask women.”
    “Can you see me, candylegger?” Edie moved closer, taking my spot.
    “Only just,” he said, catching his breath. “What’s a candylegger?”
    “A popular man about town, like you. With a useless but compelling kind of charm.”
    “Are you the one trying to keep Tamara and me apart? I can feel that this is fated, you know.”
    “Is that so? Are you star-crossed lovers kept apart by your selfish relations? A little old to play Romeo, aren’t you?” she said and paused, looking him up and down. Then her voice turned as hard as the beads on her fancy dresses. “Before the year is out, she’ll call you warlock,” she hissed and sent a shiver up my spine.
    “That is—” He paused. “Where did she go?” he asked, though she was still right in front of him. She leaned forward and pressed her phantom lips to his. He coughed and stepped back, blinking. “She’s still here.”
    “Yes.”
    He looked at me. “I can’t see her anymore.”
    I glanced at Edie. She toyed with the double strand of jawbreaker-sized pearls that hung from her neck. “He saw me with your power . . . from the kiss. When it faded, I did, too. He’s not supposed to see me.”
    “I don’t know what you meant,” I said to her. “Why would I call him a warlock? Because he’ll use dark magic?”
    Bryn folded his arms across his chest and clenched his jaw, clearly not happy about being shut out of the conversation.
    “No.” She clucked her tongue. “Any witch or wizard can use white or dark magic. The true meaning of warlock is old. It comes from our history. Warlock means traitor, one who betrays his own kind.”
    “Well?” he asked. “What has she accused me of?”
    “Nothing specific. She just doesn’t trust you.”
    “The feeling’s mutual. Vagrant spirits