Karaoke Chemistry: A Witchy Small Town Romcom (Sacred River Book 2)

33. Riggs

ICAN TELL by the way Magnolia stiffens that Kera must have arrived. There’s a domino effect, too, where each sister picks up on her energy and seems to still, followed by their mother Daphne and all her sisters. Within moments, the kitchen has gone quiet. Even the house seems to be holding its breath.

And can we talk about the house for a second? What the hell is going on? The damn thing is shooting glitter out of light fixtures, and I’m almost positive that the kitchen door was locked to me and Quinton for a second. I’d tried to get us in, and I’d swear the door was stuck. Then Quinton tried, and it opened without a problem. “Perks of being part of the family,” he’d said and winked at me.

I’m not proud of the jealousy that shot through me when he said that, seeing as how it was over Quinton’s relationship with a house.

Daphne paints a too-broad smile on her face as she excuses herself to get the door, and the kitchen springs to life again. I make a beeline for Magnolia, only to be blocked out by the rest of her sisters. Glancing back at Quinton, he gives a subtle shake of his head and I get it. This is a sister thing. A witch thing. Neither of which I am. With a resigned sigh, I follow Quinton onto the back porch.

“How much do you know about what’s going to go down today?” he asks as the door snicks shut behind us.

I rub at my jaw. “I’m still getting used to this witch stuff, so,” I shrug.

He looks at me thoughtfully. “It bothers you? The not knowing?”

Well, shit. Am I that transparent?

Quinton chuckles. “Don’t worry, man, I get it. My introduction to this family was trial by fire, you know that. First it was the Elysian Blossom, then her damn sisters drugged me—twice—but none of it mattered. Because I loved her from the minute I saw her. She drove me fucking crazy, but I had to be hers. There was never a choice.”

I study him, and finally ask the question I’ve tried not to think about. The last fission of doubt. “Did you ever believe it was the magic?”

“Nah.” His reply is instant. “Clementine did. Hell, sometimes she still thinks it was the love potion that brought us together. And in a sense, it was, only not the way she believes. My family’s dynasty was riding on getting the Elysian Blossom’s essence back into production for our perfume. I came down here for that purpose and that purpose only. What I didn’t anticipate was being thrown on my ass by a pixie-sized botanist with a huge chip on her shoulder and an attitude as big as Texas.”

I shove my hands in my pockets. It’s inspiring, the love he has for his wife, the utter devotion. Dude is straight-up besotted.

“You don’t think what you and Magnolia have is only due to magic, right?” His question isn’t surprising.

I blow out a breath and recall everything that’s happened up till now. The immediate attraction I had to her when she was merely Seven to me. The way I looked forward to seeing her every week, and how I was mesmerized by the way she seemed to transform when she got on the tiny stage. The reaction my body had to simply touching her. How, after we began seeing each other, she started to unfurl and bloom like the very flower she’s named after. How I did the same, only I didn’t realize it at the time. The love in her eyes when it’s just the two of us. The way I can make her come undone, and the way she does it to me. “No,” I finally answer. “It’s not the magic. It’s real.”

“Glad you admitted it. It’s nice to have another guy around here.”

I tilt my head at the kitchen. “So about today.”

“Listen.” Quinton steps around to look me dead in the eye. “I know you’re a lot older than me?—”

“Fuck off.”

“And trust me when I say that today is not about us. Our job is to stay as far out of the way as they want us to be, and to come only when called like good little boys.”

“Clementine’s got you tied up good, doesn’t she?” I quip.

“I mean, yeah,” he laughs. “But I’m willing. And it might be hard, standing by and letting Magnolia do whatever it is that she needs to do today, but you have to.”

The air chills as two women emerge from the kitchen. I don’t recognize them, but know instinctively it’s Kera and her mother. Quinton shifts so that he’s not an inch from me, and when he gently knocks into me I realize it’s because I am literally growling. I clear my throat.

Kera looks me up and down, her eyes a cold gray, her hair raven black and cropped short. Her cheekbones are high, angling down to an almost viciously pointed chin. Her lips are a glossy red, and they part now in a thin, calculating smile. “Riggs Finlay, right?”

Her words send cold dread skating down my spine. How does she know who I am? I shake it off. In this day and age, it’s not hard to figure out who someone is, even though Magnolia and I don’t use social media. I keep my hands in my pockets and nod at her. “Right.” I deliberately don’t say it’s nice to meet her. It isn’t.

The other woman is an older version of her daughter in almost every way, except her hair is a thinning pale red shot through with white. She puts out even less of a welcoming air than Kera. “I’m Ginger. This is Kera. We’re cousins of the Rowans. And you are?” She aims the question at Quinton.

“Clementine’s husband, Quinton,” comes the answer.

Ginger says something else and Quinton answers, and all the while Kera stares at me. As her eyes travel the length of my body, lingering on the walking boot before making their way back up to hold my gaze, I finally understand. The feeling of unease, of someone poking around in my head, is visceral, as though slime is seeping through my veins and slowing me down.

I blink to break eye contact, fighting back a wave of nausea as another instinct tells me to visualize a blanket drifting over my thoughts. I grunt, my body tense with the effort, and surprise flits across Kera’s features before her eyes narrow.

It’s all the confirmation I need, and I see red. It’s been her this whole fucking time.