Page 92 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“I just realized who you remind me of,” he said.

Her brows met. “I remind you of someone?”

“Mmhmm.” He glanced down the mountain toward Witchmere. The sun was setting, and holiday lights were barely visible in the distance. The scene resembled a real-life Whoville. “Cindy Lou Who.”

“From the Grinch?” her tone was a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Why do I find it hard to imagine you watching a Jim Carrey movie?”

“No, not that one. The original animation.”

“That makes more sense—not.” She rolled her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes.

“It does from my viewpoint,” he assured her. “And it’s understandable why his heart grew ten times that day.”

“I was always in love with Max. He was so happy and adorable with his big eyes and single antler,” she said with a melancholy smile. “I wanted a puppy just like him.”

“If we had a future, I’d get you that puppy.”

“I’d fall harder for you than I already have,” she assured him. Sobering, she asked, “What now?”

“I have to try on the off chance it’s me.”

“Don’t do it, Tripp.Please.”

“A not-so-trustworthy source said it’s what all the cool kids are doing these days.”

She laughed through her tears and kissed him. “You’re an idiot.”

They were delaying the inevitable, but he didn’t care. If she survived, she’d need memories of their lighthearted banter to see her through the hard times.

She leisurely trailed her fingers over the contours of his shoulders.

“You’re only going to miss my glorious shoulders when I go.”

“Glorious, glorious. They’re worthy of the extra praise. Yours are the best I’ve seen.” Smiling through her tears, she said, “I’ll miss these desperately if you go.”

“Makes sense. All water nymphs are attracted to men with broad shoulders.”

“Really?” Pausing, she squinted up at him. “Are you making that up?”

“Nope. Probably a subliminal belief we’re great swimmers.”

“There you go with the sex talk again. Bragging about your swimmers.”

He laughed. “I love you, Elara Elizabeth. Never doubt it, okay?”

“I know you do. I feel it here.” Pressing a hand to her heart, she choked back a sob. “Maybe we go together? You fall, I fall.”

“No. If this works, you deserve to live and love again.”

“But I won’t.”

“You will, flitter-mouse. You’re a Titan with centuries ahead of you. There’s bound to be another gorgeous man with glorious, glorious shoulders.” And Gods, did he hate the idea of her with another! But for her, he pasted on a smile.

“No dimples. You’re being fake,” she accused.

“It’s because I don’t want to imagine you with anyone else but me,” he admitted with a genuine smile. “It makes me want to rip this mountain apart.”

“Good. Jealousy is healthy in a relationship.”

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