Witch Is The New Black by Dakota Cassidy Read Free Book Online

bedroom door with her pink-tipped nail.
    Bernie sucked in a deep breath of air—blissfully cool air. It seemed the rehabilitation house had air conditioning, and that was just fine by her.
    Her bedroom—yellow and blue with white trim—faced a backyard filled with beautiful gardens. Enormous hydrangeas bloomed everywhere, blue, white and purple, their round heads defying the odds by surviving the heat.
    Thick patches of purple salvia stood tall behind rows and rows of lavender and blush heather. Pink and white begonias bordered the rock walls scattered with small hanging lanterns, and lights twinkled from strands draped over the fence and around the spiral trees.
    “Your gardens are amazing,” Bernie said on a wistful breath. In fact, everything here at the rehabilitation house was amazing. She’d anticipated a rundown shack, brimming with a mile-long list of repairs needed and a bunch of recovering magic addicts.
    But these witches had proven she watched too much TV. A sprawling Victorian greeted her when Winnie had dropped her at the door, with hanging plants adorning a wide front porch, geraniums the size of fists bracketing the door in big white urns and an interior full of nooks and crannies and well-loved pieces of furniture.
    Something delicious had scented the entryway when Winnie’s husband Ben had popped open the wide stained-glass door, making Bernie feel like she was sullying up the place with her sweat-stained jumpsuit and the lingering odor of cow patties.
    Winnie grinned as she came to stand beside her at the window. “They’re a labor of love. Mine and Lola’s—we made it for her mother.”
    “I thought she was your daughter?” She’d seen the small dark-haired girl sitting at the table coloring when she’d first entered the house, and just assumed she belonged to Winnie.
    “Biologically? No. In my heart? Always. Technically, Lola is Ben’s niece. He was left as her guardian after her parents were killed. Then I came along and made them mine.”
    Winnie said the words with an expression of such love; love so real, Bernie wanted to reach out and touch it, wrap herself up in it and savor the warmth. It had been a long time since she’d seen the emotion up close and personal, and it tugged her sore heart.
    “That’s nice,” she murmured, fighting a stab of jealousy.
    Ben Junior grabbed her hair and giggled, his gummy smile making her smile back. She didn’t have a lot of experience with babies, but he was adorable, all dark hair and big blue eyes like his father.
    “It’s a long story, my arrival here in Paris. And someday, probably sooner than you’d like, I’m going to share that story with you whether you want me to or not.”
    Bernie chuckled, letting Ben Junior squeeze her pinky. “I’d like that.”
    “Okay, I’m going to take Ben Junior downstairs and get him fed before the festivities. So why don’t you grab a shower and get changed? Maybe rest up before dinner, which is at seven sharp. We’re having a bit of a welcome-to-Paris party for you.”
    Shit. She’d forgotten about her clothes. Not to mention her borrowed shoes.
    Bernie looked down at her feet, utterly mortified. After a lunch that some would label beneath them—but to Bernie, had tasted like nirvana after ten months of prison food—Winnie had insisted she borrow a pair of Ridge’s boots to protect her feet while she worked. She’d stuffed rolled-up socks into them and sent Bernie back off to the barn to finish her assigned chores for the day.
    Ridge had taken one look at the borrowed cowboy boots, riding almost past the tops of her knees and five sizes too big for her, and snickered before returning to his own chores.
    That was the last she’d seen of him as she’d cleaned up the mess she’d made, raked the stalls and scattered fresh hay for the horses. Hopefully, in the ensuing days, he’d be just as scarce.
    Bernie looked down at the scuffed boots, instantly feeling guilt. “I’ll return them