A Witch Central Wedding

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It was perfect. Sumptuously warm and entirely private. Lauren curled her toes into the deliciously silky sand and welcomed the start of the rest of her life.

Her new husband stared out at the shimmering turquoise-blue waters, mystified. “Where the heck are we?”

Lauren smiled. “On an island surrounded by water. Alone.” With some very lovely amenities, courtesy of Nat’s planning, Realm transport, and a really enthusiastic five-year-old.

Something hot zinged into her husband’s eyes. “I can see that.”

She smiled again. “It was Moira’s idea.” A lovely honeymoon spot, nestled in the warmest ocean waters on the planet.

The heat in Devin’s eyes switched places with confusion and no little suspicion. “What did Moira have to do with this?”

Lauren wondered briefly why everyone seemed so darned suspicious of their witch matriarch these days—and then decided she had better things to do.

She slid the straps of her light sundress off her shoulders. Devin watched the fabric slide to the sand in worshipful silence.

Lauren grinned, enjoying the stunned desire that had rendered him speechless. “I asked Moira about the best way to learn to swim.” The warm Tahiti sun beat down on her newly exposed skin.

“Swim?” Devin’s brain neared meltdown.

His new wife walked toward the water, trusting he would follow. “She suggested trying it naked.”