"Witch In The House" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKnight Jenna)

men—stopped in surprise just this side of the door, oohing and ahhing at the end
result. The small, intimate Pensacola church normally inspired hushed hellos and
quiet whispers, but today it was transformed into a vibrant, living hothouse,
plush with cascades of white and yellow roses, mile upon mile of white ribbon,
and row upon row of white tapers.
And just think, after today, life would go back to normal. After a week of sex,
sun, and scuba diving, Brenda would move into his condo, not a candle, flower,
or ribbon in sight.
Five forty-five. Fifteen minutes to go. She’d promised.
Candle flames flickered and fluttered along the center aisle as ushers escorted
a few last-minute, wide-eyed guests to their seats.
Mason’s four-year-old niece broke out of safekeeping and tore down the aisle,
her new Mary Janes raising a clatter on the narrow wooden steps as she climbed
to the loft. Mason turned toward the uncontrolled sobbing that punctuated each
step before Lily launched herself into his arms and buried her head against his
neck.
“Aw, did seeing all those people scare you, sweetheart?” Mason crooned. He
cuddled Lily against his chest, patting her tiny back.
Hand him a Glock and point him in the right direction, and he was a fierce
adversary, a warrior. Hand him Lily, though, all warm and trusting and smelling
of baby shampoo, and paternal emotions arose out of nowhere to throw him a
curve. Every time. When he looked at strangers’ kids, he didn’t feel warm and
fuzzy and think about having his own. Not even when he had sex with Brenda.
Used to have sex, he amended.
“Tell you what,” he said softly, aiming to console the little girl. “You don’t
have to walk up that big, long aisle if you don’t want to.”
Quietly, Anthony sang, “Brenda’s gonna kill you.”
“She’s only four.” Mason fell into a slow, automatic sway, soothing his
nap-deprived little niece. “You’d better let my sister know I have her.”
Anthony handled that by cell phone, ending the conversation with, “He’s right
beside me. Really. He’s fine.”
“Don’t tell me. She was afraid I took off.”
“She says it’s in my job description to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Mason grinned, as if Anthony would even try. After all, they were guys. They had
a bond, an obligation to respect each other’s freedom. They left most of the
this-is-for-your-own-good bullshit to parents and siblings.
“Hate to disillusion you,” Mason said, “but I believe you’re supposed to ensure
a clean getaway if I change my mind.”
“No way, man. Brenda’d hunt you down like last time.”
“She didn’t hunt me down. And what do you mean, like last time? We were on a
break.”
“She did hunt you down—you’re just too stupid to know it. She found out where
you’d be and paraded another man in front of you. I warned you; you told me to
stuff it. You fell for it hook, line, and sinker. This ringing any bells?”
Mason tugged at his collar, thinking it was awfully tight and maybe he should
have rented a larger size. No way Anthony was right.
“I’m guessing it’d be bad luck to throw my best man off the balcony minutes
before the wedding, so I want you to know I’m resisting.”
Anthony snickered.
“Aren’t you supposed to be supportive today? It’s, you know, in the job