Free Dewitched (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 3) by Dakota Cassidy Page A

perfect together, too. More perfect than even Mom and Bart. They were all things beautiful and lean, graceful and supple.
    I rose from my seat because I was drawn to their magnetic pull, their combined charisma that heady, but I tripped on the leg of the chair and stumbled, falling into them instead.
    As I crashed into Hugh, his strong arm went around my waist. “Are you okay?”
    Looking up at him, falling into his gorgeously concerned eyes, I now didn’t just stumble, I apparently stuttered, too. “I’m…yes…um…”
    “Stevie? How could you be remiss in telling me Hugh was here?”
    My mother’s question, her eyes wide with curiosity as she demanded an answer, angered me.
    My jaw unhinged for the second time today. “Oh, I don’t know, Mom. Maybe because you were here with your new husband? Or maybe the same way you didn’t tell me he was my father ?”
    “Bloody hell, Stevie. There are gentler ways. Have we still not perfected our subtleties? In order to garner the results you wish, you must read your antagonist, not rile her. Stand down, Dove.”
    Dita gasped, gripping Hugh’s arms, but he took a step away, disentangling himself from her and putting an arm around my shoulder, his gaze locking with mine. “All these years, you didn’t know either?”
    Was this really happening? Right here in my sparkly kitchen? Numbly, I shook my head. “I had no idea who you were—or that you didn’t know I existed.”
    His eyes went from smiling to angry, narrowing in on my mother. “How could you deny my beautiful daughter knowing she had me for a father, Dita?”
    Okay. That wasn’t exactly the noblest response a child hoped for, but it would suffice. Plus, my dad thought I was beautiful. That was kind of preen-worthy, coming from a movie star in Japan.
    But now my mother narrowed her eyes, raising her hands in the air.
    Oh, goddess. I knew what lifting her red-tipped nails meant. A spell was coming, and I had no defense against her magic. There was a sudden cool wind in the kitchen, swishing my mother’s hair around her face as her eyes went brilliantly hot.
    Sweet Pete in a thong, bad spell alert!
    So I jumped in front of Hugh and shook my finger at her in stern warning. “Mother! Don’t you dare use your magic!”
    But she was seething, her eyes flashing dark, her signature wind whipping the takeout menus around on the fridge.
    “I should turn you into a urinal!” she shouted at Hugh on a dramatic sob before sweeping past us and out of the room with a huff.
    But my father just chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he looked at his shortly clipped nails and buffed them on his suit coat. “Still the same old Dita, I see.”
    Obviously he was accustomed to my mother’s melodrama, but he had some splainin’ to do. In that second, something dawned on me. Was Hugh paranormal?
    “Where have you been all this time, Hugh?” Then I held up my hand. “I mean tonight. Not all my life. Let’s start there.”
    He blinked as though I’d gone mad. “In the upstairs bathroom, running lines, of course.”
    Was this all really happening? I worried my lower lip with my teeth. “Lines?”
    “Certainly. You don’t get to be an international star if you don’t know your lines, Daughter.” Then he paused, dramatically, lifting his chin when he spotted his reflection in the windows before taking my hand. “You said we’d chat later. It was obvious you were very busy with your beautiful party, and being a star, I didn’t want to distract from your shining moment, as so often happens when I’m in a room. It’s only natural people recognize me from my many movies and appearances and create a fuss. So I took my leave and went upstairs to memorize my lines for my next movie and let you have your spotlight. I think you’ll find I can be very gracious, indeed.”
    I’m pretty sure Hugh had no idea how incredibly arrogant he sounded. In fact, I know he didn’t, simply because he looked at me with such tenderness. He really