Some Like It Witchy Read Free

potential buyers.
    I personally had never met Eleta, but I’d felt a great sense of sadness after her death two months ago because her lone living relative, a distant cousin, had no interest in Eleta or her funeral. Only a handful of villagers had attended her services.
    The cousin had opted to sell the house, and it had taken a bit of time to go through proper probate procedures until now here we stood.
    Cherise’s hand curled possessively around a bulbous finial as though she already owned it. “It needs some work, I admit. But I think it’s a good investment. Don’t you?”
    The two-story Craftsmanesque bungalow had three gables, one centered on the second floor, and two smaller onesthat flanked it on the lower level. The front porch sagged, and a rotting pergola to the right of the house had collapsed under the weight of out-of-control wisteria vines. A few of the stacked stones on the front porch columns had long crumbled, and the blue-stained clapboard facade desperately needed new paint and repair. Overgrown shrubs and a large oak tree in the front yard practically begged for a good pruning. A wooden post with a dangling Magickal Realty FOR SALE sign cast a long shadow across an uneven brick walkway invaded by grass.
    I wrinkled my nose. “Don’t you think the cottage on Maypole Lane is a better choice? The location isn’t as good, true, but it’s cheaper and it needs only minimal renovations.”
    The sun made Cherise’s eyes sparkle. “Darcy, you’re not trying to talk me out of this house so you can have it for yourself, are you?”
    I had to confess to a pang of envy. Something about this house had drawn me in the moment I found out it was for sale. It was a visceral connection. One I couldn’t quite explain. I’d love to own it, to put my stamp on it, and bring it back to its original glory. “You know I do love it, but it’s simply not for me.”
    Though I wished it were. I really did, which was all kinds of silly. My life was . . . settled.
    I couldn’t really imagine moving out of As You Wish, leaving behind all the things that were starting to feel like home. Then there was village police chief Nick Sawyer to think about. Our relationship had never been better. We’ve been dating for almost a year, and it was becoming clear it may be time to take the next step, and he and his daughter, Mimi, already had a lovely house a couple of blocks away. Having two homes was a complication we didn’t need to take on.
    But this house . . . I sighed. It felt like it was supposed to be mine.
    â€œAnd hardly a realistic possibility,” I added, trying to talkmyself out of the impossible. Though I had a decent inheritance from my late father, it wasn’t near the money I’d need for a house like this. “I don’t have your kind of resources, Miss Moneybags.”
    She laughed again, and squeezed my arm. “If I get it, I promise to take good care of it.”
    If I couldn’t have the home, then Cherise was a great choice. She would honor the character, the history. But it was a big if. The other buyers didn’t seem to be backing down.
    â€œLet’s go have another look, shall we?” Cherise finally let go of that poor finial, and I followed her to the front door. She knocked, then tried the knob.
    â€œLocked,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s unusual for Raina to be late. She’s always early.”
    â€œI’m sure she’ll be here soon. It’s a busy time of year for her.” The spring housing market had exploded. Magickal Realty, owned by Raina and her husband, Kent, had dozens of listings in and around the village. “And don’t forget Scott Whiting is following her around, asking every question under the sun.”
    Scott Whiting was the producer in charge of the home show that had its sights set on filming in the village.
    â€œTrue