Page 56 of Hexed Up

“Are we still talking about me, or you?”

“Oh,” she says, suddenly very interested in the chocolate monstrosity that’s appeared in bowls in front of us.

I pick up my spoon and am about to make quick work of the tower of chocolate when someone taps me on the shoulder.

I find Tiggie hovering behind me. “I thought you might want to swap seats. He’s been staring longingly at you all night.” Sheplants a kiss on my cheek. “He’s lovely, Molly. Perfect for you. Don’t let him get away.”

I wonder what she can mean by that as we swap seats and I settle into the one next to Horatio. I am more than aware of all of Horatio’s assets – his good looks, his good job, his good social skills, even (much to my surprise) his good sense of humour. But we’re very different people, aren’t we?

I like rock. He likes jazz. I like lie-ins; he likes early morning trips to the gym. He likes neat and tidy; I’ve never achieved neat and tidy in my life. He follows the rules and I break them.

How could we possibly be perfect for each other?

He wraps his arm around the back of my chair as he listens to my uncle explaining to him how charming spells can be particularly useful when fishing, and I consider just how natural, and perfect, that arm feels.

When it’s clear my uncle is not going to take a break from his nonstop monologue, I lean in closer to Horatio and whisper,

“I’m sorry, but once you get him started, it’s really hard to get him to stop.”

“It’s fine,” he tells me, “it’s actually interesting. I’m learning a lot about the supernatural world.” He points to his pudding. “Do you want mine?”

“You don’t want it?”

He shrugs. “You seemed to be enjoying yours so I thought you might like mine too.”

I don’t wait to be asked twice, I tuck in, and we both listen to my uncle’s explanation about worms, maggots, and bait.

After that, I decide extreme measures are required and inform my uncle that we need to go find McGruff who has been suspiciously absent from dinner.

“Molly, don’t go far. We’re going to start a game of charades soon!” my mum calls after us as we leave the table.

“Okay,” I say grimacing, leaving my heels under my chair and venturing outside barefoot.

When the two of us step out into the cool night air, I take a deep sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

“For what?” he asks.

“My family in general. I know they can be a lot. And for asking you to do this. In hindsight, it would probably be kinder if I had been luring you here for a human sacrifice.”

“I’m still unconvinced that the human sacrifice is off the cards. I was asked by at least three different members of your family for my weight and height details which I assume are necessary for the ceremony,” he says.

I giggle, planting my face into my palm. “Why can’t they behave like civilised human beings?”

“Molly, your family is fine. No different from any other family and,” he plunges his hands into his pockets, “a lot more sane than mine.”

“Merlin’s nipple ring, yours must be totally coo-coo then.”

He doesn’t answer me, instead peering into the darkness. “Where is that chaperone?”

“Probably terrorising unsuspecting squirrels somewhere.” I cup my hands around my mouth and call his name, getting nothing in response. I turn back to Horatio, shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders. “Sometimes I think that little munchkin is more monkey than dog.”

“Well,” Horatio says, removing his hands from his pockets and taking a step towards me, “your chaperone better show up soon, otherwise the temptation to kiss you is going to be too much.”

On cue, those damn butterflies start swooning about in my belly.

“That would be one big violation of the contract,” I point out.