“Is that so? Well, life’s good.”

“Uh-huh. You’ve been spending some time with MacAllister Booke.”

Ripley trailed her fingers through the sand, drawing little curlicues. “Is that your polite way of asking if we’re doing it?”

“No.” Nell waited a beat, exhaled. “Well, are you?”

“No, not yet.” Content, Ripley leaned back, braced her elbows in the sand. “I’m enjoying this pre-sex interlude more than I figured I would. Mostly, I’ve always figured if you’re going to dance, just get up and dance. But . . .”

“Romance is a dance of its own.”

Ripley’s look was sharp and quick. “I didn’t say we were having a romance. Like hearts and flowers and cow eyes. He’s an interesting guy to hang out with, that’s all—when he’s not caught up in spook patrol. He’s been all over the place. I mean, to places I didn’t even know were places.”

He’d known the capital ofLiechtenstein , she remembered. Imagine that.

“Did you know he graduated from college when he was sixteen?” she continued. “Is that brainy or what?

Even with all that, he gets into regular stuff. Like movies and baseball. I mean he’s not snooty about, what is it, popular culture.”

“No intellectual snobbery,” Nell commented, enjoying herself.

“Yeah, that’s it. He’s into Rocky and Bullwinkle, and he listens to regular music. It’s like he’s got this enormous brain capacity so it can hold on all the E-equals-MC-squared junk, but it still has room for the Barenaked Ladies. Plus, he’s totally buff, and he’s got excellent form in the water, but sometimes he just trips over his own feet. It’s kind of cute.”

Nell opened her mouth to comment again, but Ripley was already plowing on. “Sure, he’s a complete geek, but it’s sort of handy. He fixed my headset when I was going to pitch it. And the other day . . .”

She frowned when she caught Nell’s wide grin. “What now?”

“You’re smitten.”

“Oh, please. What kind of a word is that?” She snorted, crossed her legs at the ankles. “Smitten. Jesus.”

“It’s the perfect word from where I’m sitting. And I think it’s wonderful.”

“Don’t get on that romance boat of yours and sail, Nell. We’re just hanging out. Then we’ll have sex and hang out. We’ll keep it friendly as long as he doesn’t shove the witch angle down my throat. Then he’ll go back toNew York and write his book or paper or whatever. We’re not stuck on each other.”

“Whatever you say. But in all the months I’ve been on the Sisters, I haven’t seen you spend this much time with anyone else, or look as happy doing it.”

“So, I like him better than most.” Ripley sat up again, shrugged. “And I’m more attracted to him than most.”

“Smitten,” Nell said under her breath.

“Shut up.”

“Bring him to dinner?”

“Huh?”

“Bring him home to dinner tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m making Zack’s favorite, and there’ll be plenty.”

“We’re having Yankee pot roast?” Ripley’s mouth began to water.

“I’m sure Mac would appreciate sitting down to a home-cooked meal instead of eating takeout or eating in a restaurant, or heating up one of my deliveries.” Nell stood up, brushed sand off her pants.

“Sure, he likes to eat. Nell, you’re not going to try any matchmaking deal, are you?”

Her blue eyes widened with innocence. “Of course not. Tell him six-thirty, and let me know if that’s not convenient.”

She clapped her hands, called for Lucy, then started for home.

She had a great deal to do in a short amount of time.

“I’m not doing a spell.”

Mia angled her head, smiled sweetly as Nell scowled at the potato she was peeling. “Then why did you ask me to come by and discuss your plans for tonight’s dinner?”

“Because I admire your taste.”

“Try again.”

“Because you know Ripley better than I do.”

“Keep going.”

“Oh, all right.” Grimacing in disgust, Nell snatched up another potato. “It’s not a spell. That would be wrong . . . wouldn’t it?” she added with a quick sidelong glance.

“Yes, that would be wrong. You have neither party’s permission. Added to that, interfering with anyone’s personal life crosses a line.”

“I know it.” Nell’s shoulders slumped, just for a minute. “Even when you have their best interest at heart?” She let the statement hang as a question, though she knew the answer. “She looks so happy. You’ve seen it for yourself. You should have heard her. She was absolutely bubbling about him.”

“Deputy Dawg bubbling?” Mia chuckled. “I’d have paid to see that one.”

“She was, and it was adorable. All I wanted was to give her a little nudge. Not with a spell,” she added quickly, before Mia could speak. “A nice friendly family dinner. And if I added a little of this, a bit of that, just something to encourage clear vision. Something that would lower the boundaries just a tiny inch or two.”

“And if they’re seeing what they need to see, feeling what they need to feel, at this moment? Can you be sure your . . . nudge won’t be in the wrong direction?”

“You’re so frustrating when you’re practical. Worse when you’re right. It’s hard not using what’s available to help.”

“Power’s a tricky business. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t mean anything. You’re in love yourself,” Mia said.

“Still riding on that lovely rush of it all, and you’re seeing everyone coupled and cozy and content. Not all of us are meant for what you have with Zack.”

“If you could have heard the way she babbled about him before she caught herself.” Shaking her head, Nell scrubbed her peeled vegetables. “She’s halfway in love with him and doesn’t even know it.”

Mia indulged herself in one moment of pleasure and envy at the thought of her childhood friend taking the fall. “And if she did know it, if you helped her see what may be happening inside her, she might scramble back from that edge before she falls. It would be just like her.”