Belonging to Taylor (19 page)

"I'm pretty sure." She laughed softly. "The doctor doesn't know that yet, but Mother called and said Daddy was certain."

He hugged her again, held her for a long time. "I love you, witch," he murmured. "So much."

"I love you too, darling."

"I'm so glad I found you crying in that park." He laughed suddenly. "You never have told me what you were crying about that day."

Taylor smiled, remembering. She didn't cry about unimportant things any longer. In fact, not counting the time she'd deliberately made herself cry to tease Trevor, that day in the park had seen her last unimportant tears.

Unimportant! Those tears had changed her life.

"I was crying because somebody had stepped on a rose."

Trevor shook his head, rueful, tender. "Somebody stepped on a rose, and I ended up married to a psychic—
and
finding myself psychic."

"Life's funny, isn't it?" she observed solemnly.

"Love"—he laughed on a sigh, his eyes full of silver warmth, the arms holding her gentle and strong beyond belief—"you've taught me the truth of that. Life is funny. And so much more now than I ever thought it could be."

Taylor lifted her face for his kiss, a part of her wishing she
had
been born on Halloween, just to make Trevor's life utterly perfect. But it was all right, really. She'd always be his witch. And an April witch had powers an October witch could never match.

Magic.