Tilting her head, Leanne noticed that Margie was wearing a new shade of lipstick and she’d chosen a new hair color, just a skosh lighter and brighter than usual. Everyone knew she and Dante had struck up some FWB agreement, but nobody was talking about it. As long as the man didn’t hurt Margie, it was all good in Leanne’s book. But if he messed Margie around, she’d hex him into next week, even if he was Titus and Trev’s friend.

“You look like you’re scheming,” Ethel whispered. “Can I get in on this?”

Quickly, Leanne shook her head. “Nothing serious.”

Clem grabbed a sandwich with the crusts cut off—Margie’s handiwork, as her kid refused to eat them for some reason. “So you’re running for city council. How’s that going?”

“I’ll talk about that when it’s my turn. First off, how’s everyone else doing?”

Danica frowned at her. “Like you can get off the hook for—”

“We didn’t talk about my wedding when you dragged me off Trev’s dick for a witch hunter emergency, and we’re not getting into it now.”

“Can we talk about how Trevor moved in before the wedding and you lied about it to get out of pitching in?” Clem nudged her.

Leanne tried to control the blush. “I didn’t want to deal with everything, okay? I’m sorry. Back to the main point—it’s my third time. Making a huge thing of it doesn’t even make sense. Even I think it’s bizarre to keep trying.” Not that she was trying to make the marriage work in a traditional sense.

Not this time.

Vanessa eyed her sharply, but she kept her mouth closed. And that was why Vanessa was her best friend in the coven. Witch knew when to keep certain details quiet. Margie was equally discreet, but that was more of a personal brand because she genuinely disliked gossip. If “nice” needed an illustration the dictionary, they could use Margie’s photo, and that was part of how she ended up getting so screwed over by her ex.

“You’ll end up like that one actress,” Clem predicted.

“The one with seven exes?” Leanne asked.

“That’s her.”

She shook her head, trying not to get salty over what felt like Clem pronouncing a curse. “This is my last go-round. You wouldn’t understand them, but I had my reasons.”

“Why are you just assuming we won’t?” Clem demanded.

Kerry and Priya had been lost in each other’s eyes for the whole exchange, but Priya, like Danica, tended to live in the rose-wreathed “please don’t fight” cottage. So she spoke up. “Let’s take a breath and give Leanne some space on this topic.”

“Agreed,” said Kerry.