by Debora Geary
Nat walked over to her husband, two plates of food in her hands, and smiled at the peaceful girl sleeping in a pouch on his chest. “Aervyn’s magic tired her out, did it?”
“For now,” said Jamie, rolling his eyes. “Just wait until she wakes up.”
“We’ll give her to Gramma Retha.” Who had last been seen leading a contingent of witchlings on a bucket raid. No Witch Central event was ever complete without a water fight.
Her husband laughed. “Getting into trouble, is she? Making up for the world calling her old.”
Nat only smiled. And hoped she accepted that far-off moment with half Retha’s grace and spunk. “Did you get all the things moved for the honeymoon?”
“Yup. Transported to one top-secret location, probably by way of Mars.” Jamie grinned over at Aervyn, currently playing tag with a ragamuffin band of sandy kids. “Someone had a lot of magical steam to let loose.”
Leo trucked by, cookie in his hand and chubby cheeks streaked with unidentified goo. Nat smiled. One day soon, that would be her little girl, and Leo would be off playing tag. Life, on an endless, fascinating cycle.
A ripple of conversation began to spread down the beach. The newlyweds arriving. Nat stayed at Jamie’s side. There would be time to hug Lauren and shed a few tears later. She watched as her best friend moved through the crowd in a bright yellow sundress, wildflowers in her hair.
Not a realtor today.
Lauren made her way over to Lizard, cornering her assistant between the amused Josh and a large rock, and said something that turned their resident poet fairy twenty shades of red and had most of the mind witches on the beach chuckling.
“Dunno,” said Jamie glumly. “Can’t hear from here.”
It didn’t matter—they’d hear it in the retelling. And Nat wasn’t really watching Lauren anyhow. It was Devin who had her attention. He kissed witches, collected well wishes, and never took his eyes off his new wife.
Someone was ready for the honeymoon.
“Not quite yet. Look.” Jamie chucked softly, his fingers linking with hers. “The girls found Téo.”
Nat followed his gaze. Three blonde heads had Matt’s cheerful, outgoing partner surrounded, and they seemed to be herding him. “What are they up to?”
Her husband’s eyes lit with amusement. “Apparently it’s time for the bouquet toss.”
“We have one of those?” Nat was fairly certain her own wedding had included no such thing.
Amusement gave way to snorting laughter. “We do now.”
Oh, no. Nat tried to keep her giggles quiet and failed miserably.
Word spread through the waiting crowd, and soon, Téo stood in the middle of all the unmarried females the witching community could muster on short notice, most of them under the age of ten. Sierra stood on the periphery, laughing and weaving a spell. Nat was pretty sure it was intended to repel flowers.
Elsie tucked in behind Sierra, a very sticky Leo in her arms.
Nat grinned. Hard to catch when you had your arms full of small boy.
The triplets went as a group to gather their last victim—Lizard standing against a wall, glaring daggers at anyone within fifty feet. Shay, ever the clever negotiator, took Josh’s hand and dragged him off instead.
Jamie snickered. “Well, at least they’re equal opportunity meddlers.”
Nat just smiled, pretty sure most of the antics were purely for show. She’d seen that look on Ginia’s face before. And all the flowers had come from their preteen healer’s garden. The fix was already in.
Lauren, face bright with laughter, turned her back on the waving, eager arms and tossed her bouquet high into the air. It flew on graceful, witch-assisted flight—straight into Téo’s astonished hands.
Nat wasn’t at all surprised. Sometimes life’s endless, fascinating cycle got a lot of help.
-o0o-
“You’re going to love it, Uncle Devin!”
The most newly wed Sullivan caught his nephew in mid-dash and swooped him up for a sandy hug. “Gonna tell me what the surprise is now, munchkin?” The day had been full of them.
Aervyn only giggled. “Nope. Mama says if I tell, she’s gonna put me on bread-and-water rations for a week.” His eyes got big. “That means no cookies.”
Devin didn’t dig any harder. The last of the big wedding secrets was practically bursting out of five-year-old seams already—and he was well aware Nell would do a lot more than deny him cookies if he did anything to help it escape.
Besides, he liked surprises. Especially ones that involved a week of uninterrupted time with his new wife. No work, no interruptions. No nine-year-olds high on glitter glue and pre-wedding glee.
Just his entirely sexy new wife.
He hoped they were going somewhere hot, sultry, and—
He clamped down on that daydream. The five-year-old in his arms read thoughts all too well. “So what have you done with my wife, superboy?”
Aervyn snuggled in closer for one last hug, and then ported to the ground. “She’s coming. And I’m a’posed to tell you to close your eyes.”
He did. And felt the familiar tug of a transport spell.
-o0o-
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.”