What Not To Were (Paris, Texas Romance #2)

“And Winnie’s magic? Why steal her magic?”


“You can’t really be that stupid, can you? Winnie’s far more powerful than I am. But not for long. When I realized all my dreams were coming true, that opportunity had just fallen into my lap with that dress, I had to act fast to protect the dream. I knew once someone located Winnie, she’d come running back to save her friend. So I took the necessary precautions to prevent it. But I’d always planned to steal Winnie’s magic, from the moment I met that stupid, always preaching right from wrong bitch. I’d really hoped to just let this all play out and once you were out of the picture, convince Calla she was my destiny.”

“Your destiny…”

Kirby snaked a hand out and gripped his chin, squeezing it. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! You shouldn’t be allowed to even refer to her! She’s too perfect. Too good for the likes of you!”

Okay, he had to find a way to calm this situation down. She was like a ticking time bomb. “You’re right. She is.”

In the blink of an eye, she reared her hand back and slapped him across the cheek, the crack of it echoing to the rafters of the barn. “I hate you! Hate, hate, haaaate!”

His head fell back on his neck from the force of her contact with his face, but he lifted it, trying to figure out how to diffuse this if every word he spoke infuriated her.

Then she was childlike, her voice soft, her expression innocent. “You weren’t supposed to remember her. How did you remember her, Nash? By midnight, you should have been a seething monster full of hate, but you’re not. You called her Cupcake Lady…Somehow, you remembered. You must really love her. It means your love is stronger than my spell.”

Yeah. He did remember, and no doubt, he damn well loved her. Now he wanted to live long enough to enjoy it. He could kick himself for this morning, after her confession from last night. He’d never forgive himself for that asinine reaction to her prosthetic, but he was going to try and make it right.

Yet, he remained silent. He only exacerbated the situation when he spoke, but his mind raced as he looked for a way out.

She was silent for a long time, too. Eerily so, as he tried every spell he knew in the book to break whatever was binding him.

Her auburn hair was mussed as she ran her hand through it again, finding her way to a hay bale opposite him and slumping down beside it. She tightened the sweater she wore around her waist and gazed at him by the glow of the lone candle she’d lit.

She began to chew on her nail, examining it under the light of the candle. “You know what comes next, right?” she asked offhandedly.

Answer? Don’t answer? He chose answer. “What comes next, Kirby?”

Her head flew upward, her eyes full of an oddly serene delight. “You die, Cowboy. You. Die.”

Well, now he understood what Fate meant when he said Calla had to show him in one day.

One day was apparently up.



Winnie held up her finger as they neared old man Greely’s barn. “Okay, you wait outside. I’m not taking a chance she’ll hurt one of you. Understood?”

Calla shook her head. Oh, no. Baba Yaga would kill her if anything happened to Winnie. Not to mention, she’d never be able to live with herself if something happened to her. “The hell I’m waiting outside, Winnie! I’m not letting your risk your life. You have children and a husband. I’m a werewolf. I’m pretty strong and really fast. I can just run in there and grab him.”

“And she has magic, and we have no gauge on how powerful it is. But I have magic, too,” she said, gripping Calla’s shoulders. “You will, under no circumstances, come into that barn, Calla Allen, or I’ll put the mother of all whammies on you and turn you into some swamp dweller, hear me?” She then turned to the group. “That means all of you. You know I’m the strongest witch here, right? But I can’t get a feel for Kirby’s powers at this point. For all I know, she could be stronger than I am, but that’s unlikely. No one needs to get hurt if you’ll all just listen.”

Calla swallowed hard, her throat so tight she almost couldn’t speak. She pulled Winnie into a hug. “One wrong move, one peep of distress, and I’m right behind you, understood?”

Winnie chucked her under the chin and smiled. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Now, stay put. Especially you, Gus. Your daughter’s old-school witch and she’ll burn us at the stake if you’re harmed in the making of this coup. No heroics.”

Without another word, she blew them all a kiss and disappeared into the ebony folds of the night.

Calla almost couldn’t stand still, but Daphne put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right. Winnie’s got some serious mojo. Has she told you about what she did last year when—”