100% That Witch - Celia Kyle Page 0,31

offered.

“Maybe…” Tiffany looked down at herself one more time, almost as if she had forgotten. When she looked up at Nero again, he had that queer little smile on his face.

“Knock him dead, Tiff. You’re irresistible.”

She smiled back at him, gave his arm a small squeeze, and stepped past him into the evening. The door closed behind her, and she stood for a moment, breathing deeply. The air seemed full of hope and possibility.

As she stepped toward the stairs that led down to the sidewalk, a few strands of ivy shot from pillar to pillar, weaving a web. After the lovely, violin-accompanied sendoff, Hollow House was up to its old tricks again.

“Oh, come on,” she groaned. Her humor was high enough that it didn’t really faze her, but Tiffany was ready to get on with her evening and all that life had to offer her afterward. But when she came closer to the vines, they only bound more tightly in place.

“Really?” Turning back, Tiffany rapped on the window and called, “Little help?” In a few moments, the door opened, and Kelly stood there rolling her eyes.

“I swear, sometimes...” Giving the door frame a light smack, she called up to the portico, “Will you knock it off? Girl has a date!”

After a beat, the vines retreated, albeit with a grudging sort of energy about them. Flopping to the porch and drawing back slowly, as if in a pout.

“Voila,” Kelly said. “Go get him.”

“That’s the plan!” Tiffany waved and trotted down the steps. Try as she might to still it, Vance’s taunt hung at the fringes of her mind like some ghost from her past doing everything it could to spoil what promised to be a perfect evening.

Not tonight, she promised herself, raising her chin and quickening her step. The moon was full and inviting, so she fixed on that as a way of washing out the indignities of her past.

Even so, as she turned onto the sidewalk, she couldn’t help sneaking a peek back over her shoulder. Any other time in her history, she would have been at the head of a parade of bunnies and kittens, each falling all over itself with adorable abandon.

But even as the evening swelled around her, the walkway leading from Hollow House remained completely empty.

Twelve

The Wicked Bean.

Not exactly the fine dining experience a girl hoped for if she was counting on a ring. Visions of La Petit Noir had danced in her head when Rhys mentioned meeting. Linen tablecloths and a legion of snooty vampires in evening dress bringing out tiny, expensive portions one after another. Bliss!

What awaited her was something far more… casual. Even so, it was among the more popular coffee shops in Othercross, and the hip vibe did speak to Rhys’s style. It was hard to picture him taking a knee next to champagne and lobsters.

Besides, Tiffany didn’t really care where the proposal happened—so long as it did! The sweet inevitability of it sang under her skin. Part of her didn’t want to jinx anything, but the blaze inside her chest told her the need for caution was well behind her now. The new Tiffany Ufora was going to live on the front lines of her life.

Funny, given that they had only been on two actual “dates,” the idea of a proposal may have seemed a bit sudden, but she was more than prepared. The whirlwind nature was part of what got her insides humming, the sweetness of the impulse almost too much to bear.

At the door, she paused for just a second and took a breath, just as Nero had suggested.

What was she going to see when she got inside?

Maybe Rhys was a secret romantic after all? An image burst into her mind of the whole place hushed in the dim. The coffee house denizens all turned in their chairs with expectant faces, hungry for her arrival, and at the center of it all, the main attraction.

Two rows of tealights formed an aisle leading directly to the lanky necromancer, already kneeling with the ring out. Even in that position, he was almost her height, so it would be a simple matter to rush up and put her lips over his.

It’s all too perfect, she heard herself saying. Of course, I’ll marry you.

After all, it was far easier to rent out The Wicked Bean than a place like La Petit Noir. Besides, her stomach was so filled with butterflies, she doubted she’d be able to get a bite down. What would be