Page 49 of Witchful Thinking

“He looked at you as if you were a whole plate of salmon cakes and seaweed at Sunday dinner,” Ursula said.

“I see you’ve been hanging out with Uncle Leo.” Lucy shook her head at the familiar family phrase. Caraways loved their metaphors a little too much.

“I didn’t want him using his aquatic wiles on you and leaving you high and dry. What’s the point of having magic if you don’t use it to protect yourself and those you love?”

“I really liked him, Sula,” Lucy said.

Once Ursula heard her family nickname, she sighed and took Lucy’s hand. “I wanted to protect you. It was wrong of me to threaten him, but I saw things. If you kept hanging out with Alex, you were going lose a lot more than your panties.”

There was a warning tone in her words that set off bells in Lucy’s head.

“Wait,” Lucy said. “He never even kissed me. Where in your mind did you see him make a move?”

“You’re not the only person who can read the leaves,” Ursula said cryptically. “I saw what I saw.”

Ursula rarely looked into the future, but she had peeked for her and Alex. Lucy didn’t know how to feel about this revelation.

“You’re asking me to read for him,” Lucy pointed out.

Ursula’s lips twisted to the side. “You’re grown and I think you know better. You can’t stop the tide from coming in. I can’t stop you from being with him. Have fun, but don’t count on him to stay. A merman can’t change his tail.”

Lucy thought to herself while Ursula took a long sip from her tea. She didn’t want to stop texting Theo, but the more time she spent with Alex, the more her reluctance grew. Was Theo her soul mate? Probably not, but she couldn’t just give up because she had this merman on her brain. Alex was as lasting as writing on the sand. She couldn’t invest her heart insomeone who could disappear within a single wave. Somehow, Lucy felt her heart was already out to sea.

Chapter Thirteen

Alex stood in his makeshift bedroom, looking in the crooked mirror he’d managed to find at a thrift store. He frowned at his reflection, unsure. A vintage T-shirt, dark denim, and fresh sneakers were good for an afternoon tea, right? As the full moon approached, he always felt as though he was climbing out of his skin. He’d have to get a midnight swim in.

He went downstairs, taking in the bare-bones furniture: a table, two chairs, and a love seat Horatio had gotten delivered over the last few days. He’d started getting his mail forwarded from his old address, but the mailman had misdelivered his neighbors’ mail. If he wasn’t getting makeup samples or birthday cards, he was collecting packages for every other house on Summerfield Street.

When Ursula offered him a private tea reading, he’d jumped at the chance to see Lucy in her element. He always wanted to have his leaves read but lacked the courage to get it done.

Lucy came over dressed in shades of pink that popped against her skin, cradling a wooden tea caddy while balancing a bulky tote bag on her shoulder. She, in her bright pink shirt and pastel pants, looked like a delicious—and furious—tuft of cotton candy. Her posture was stiff, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she scanned the living room, then went into the kitchen.

“If you wanted a tea reading, you could’ve just asked me,” Lucy said, clutching the caddy to her chest. “It didn’t have to be a whole thing.”

“I agree. I was going to text you, but Ursula came over and…well, she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“My cousin would sell sand to a beach.” Lucy shook her head with a smile.

“Ursula knows your worth.”

“Do you?” There was a hint of longing in her voice.

He took a step forward. “You know the answer to that.”

Lucy’s posture eased a fraction. She looked him over and gestured at his shirt with her chin. “Nice shirt. I love that Prince album.”

“Sign o’ the Times is a classic.”

Lucy nodded. “Do you want to do it here or in the kitchen?”

“We can do it wherever you’d like.”

Lucy tossed him a flirty look, crooked her finger, and went into the kitchen, twitching her behind in a “come follow me” sway. He wasn’t a fool and joined her immediately. She made herself comfortable, filling the electric kettle with water, clicking the button, and setting it to boil. She moved toward the basic kitchen set he bought last week—a table and two chairs.

“Can I help?”

“I’ve got this.” Lucy placed her tea caddy on the table. She pulled two teacups from her tote and set them on the table, then looked around. “Where’s the cake? We can have it with our tea.”