December 4, Wednesday

"LET ME get this straight," Frida said, her voice crackling through my phone. "The teenage twins who tried to kill you are also the ones who murdered the bookstore owner? And they're actual witches? Like, not just wannabe-crystals-and-sage witches, but murder-and-mayhem witches?"

I settled deeper into Rose's window seat, watching Satan chase the black rooster around the yard. "That's the short version, yeah."

"Girl." Frida's exhale was pure New York exasperation. "When you decide to have a mental breakdown and move to the middle of nowhere, you really commit to the bit."

"I didn't have a mental breakdown."

"No? Because running away to Nowhere, Alabama after your ex cleaned out your bank account seemed pretty breakdown-adjacent to me."

"Fair," I conceded.

"But now you have that hot stonemason boyfriend."

"He's not my—"

"If you say he's not your boyfriend after he's been sleeping over and defending your honor, I will personally drive down there and smack you."

I laughed despite myself. "But I'm leaving soon."

"Oh, Gawd. You're still playing hard to get?"

"I'm not playing anything. I just..." I traced patterns on the foggy window. "I don't want to make the same mistakes I made with Curtis."

"Honey, unless Sawyer has been taking cash from your wallet and trying to steal credit for your books, he's nothing like Curtis."

"No, but he has secrets."

"Everyone has secrets! I have secrets. You have secrets. The only difference is Sawyer's secrets involve possibly being a warlock, which, if you ask me, is kind of hot."

"Frida!"

"What? I'm just saying, if my man could do actual magic, I wouldn't be complaining."

I smiled, watching Sawyer's truck pull up outside. He climbed out carrying what looked like takeout bags.

"He's here now, isn't he?" Frida's voice turned sly. "I can hear you getting all dreamy and distracted."

"He brought lunch."

"Mm-hmm. Listen to your wise friend Frida – stop overthinking everything. You found a good man who likes you and literally saved you from being buried alive. Lock. That. Down."

"You're ridiculous."

"I'm right and you know it." She paused. "But seriously, Jo? I'm glad you're okay."

I laughed. "Me too."

"Go make out with your warlock. But call me tomorrow!"

I ended the call, still smiling as I went to let Sawyer in. He stood on my porch holding bags that smelled amazing, his green eyes crinkling at the corners when he saw me.

"I brought that soup you like from B's," he said. "Thought it might help with the bruises."

Looking at him – solid, steady, real – I heard Frida's words echo in my mind. Everyone has secrets.

Maybe sometimes the magic was in simply letting yourself fall in love.

"Come in," I said, reaching for his hand. "It's cold out there."