Big Witch Energy - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,16

pinch together. “You two know each other?”

Romy laughs awkwardly. “We actually just met the other night. At, um, the turtle races.”

Magan lowers her chin and gives me a skeptical look. “Turtle races?”

“My main man Donatello won,” I boast, covering up my own confusion.

“But… did you know who each other were?” Magan asks.

“Nope.” I frown at Romy. “I guess we do now.”

Romy rubs her forehead. “You’re… Oh. Ohhhhh. Oh my god.”

Magan’s watching us, eyes alight. “This is interesting.”

“What a coincidence!” Cassie exclaims.

I shoot her a glance. A fucking huge coincidence. “Crazy, huh?”

She beams. “Amazing!”

Was this why Romy’d been having a bad day that day? She’d just found out who her father is? And holy shit, it’s Joe. This is unbelievable.

Not for the first time, I wish we witches could read minds. Sadly, that’s not one of our powers.

I’ve been thinking about her since that night. There was something about her that drew me to her, not just a physical attraction (although kissing her was so fucking hot I’ve fantasized more than once about doing more to her) but a connection I felt in my chest. Is that my heart? Crap. I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t believe in love at all, at least for me. Like Lincoln said, it’s usually smash and dash for me.

I knew I’d see her again. Somehow. This was not what I expected.

Here she is. Sitting right in front of me. And she’s part of my family. Which means… back the fuck off. Way off.

“So you know Trace is like our big brother?” Magan asks.

“Yes.” Romy nods, her eyelashes fluttering up and down, betraying her nerves.

I’m still befuddled from finding out Romy is Joe’s daughter. Seeing her again. It’s a shock… and yet, in a weird way, it isn’t. It feels… inevitable.

But my head is all screwed up—excited to see her, disappointed that I can’t “see her,” and confused as hell.

“Dinner’s ready,” Cassie says. “Let’s move into the dining room.”

As everyone stands and heads toward the dining room, I move closer to Romy and speak in a low voice. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She blinks rapidly. “I had no idea… when we met the other night…”

“I know. Me either.” I shrug. “Wild, huh?”

“Yeah. Wild.” She shakes her head. “Like my whole life right now.”

“You mentioned that night you’d had a rough day.”

“That was the day I found out about the Candlers. Felise had reached out to me on Facebook because the DNA testing showed we were related, but we couldn’t figure out how.” She closes her eyes. “I can only imagine the scene when she asked her parents… I mean Joe and Cassandra… about it.”

“I wasn’t here for that.”

“Cassandra has been amazing. It can’t be easy to find out your husband has a child from a previous relationship.”

“No. But she is amazing. She’s been like a mother to me since I was sixteen.”

Romy swallows and nods, her chin quivering. “Right. You mentioned that. I can’t believe…”

“I know.”

“I feel pretty lucky. It could have been so different. The truth is… I’m a little overwhelmed, but I’ve always wanted this. A big family. Lots of people to love. I loved my mom, and she loved me, but I used to dream of Christmases with a house full of people and tons of gifts and…” Her voice trails off. “Well. You get the idea. I can’t believe this is happening.”

The urge to wrap her up in a hug startles me. This is so fucking weird.

“Come on, you two!”

We look up to see Felise beckoning us, a speculative gleam in her eye. Uh-oh.

We follow the others into the dining room.

Felise pats the chair beside her. “Come sit here, Romy.”

Romy sits, running her hand over her butt to keep her skirt smooth, which puts dirty thoughts into my head. I take a seat across from her and next to Magan. Joe and Cassie are at each end.

As usual, dinner is delicious—creamy chicken with spinach and artichokes, buttered noodles, and a simple salad, served family style with lots of passing of bowls and then much fast-moving conversation.

“This is fabulous, Cassandra,” Romy says.

“Thank you! I enjoy cooking.”

Felise laughs and Romy’s forehead creases.

“Save room for dessert,” Cassie says.

Felise peppers Romy with all kinds of questions, but I like how Romy is patient with her, seeming amused.

After dinner, we move into the den.

“Are you sure I can’t help clear the table?” Romy asks Cassie.

“No, no. It’ll just take me a minute.” Cassie waves us out.

The den has big mullioned windows looking out onto the yard,