I can’t wait another minute. Go out with me again?
I watch through the window as Jade picks up her phone from the counter. Her eyes widen and then her lips lift into the most breathtaking smile as her thumbs fly across the screen. My phone buzzes, and my heart leaps when I read her reply.
Pink Panther
When?
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
JADE
Tiny,spooky characters jockey for position in the store’s entryway, pushing and elbowing to get to the bowls of trick-or-treat candy I’ve set out on the counter.
“All right, one at a time there, Dracula,” I tell a tiny vampire with blood dripping from his lips and a fistful of chocolate bars poking through his chubby fingers. A mini Wednesday Addams shoulder-checks him out of the way. “Careful, Wednesday,” I add with a smile. The girl’s mom leads her outside with an apologetic head-shake.
The Burner triplets bust through the door, looking adorable and definitely squeezable in ketchup, mustard, and relish costumes. They frantically gouge through the candy, spilling half of it all over the floor.
When I crouch to pick up the treats, my ridiculously short skirt rides up, and I give it a sharp tug back down. After telling Dylan about the Island of the Dolls in Mexico, I’d decided to order a creepy doll costume for Halloween, which looked deliciously ghoulish on the website. But when the package arrived, out fell a blue gingham dress with a three-inch wind-up key poking from the back, thigh-high white stockings with frilled edges, and two blue hair bows. Before setting up the shop tonight for trick-or-treaters, I’d ripped a few tears in the stockings and smeared some dirt down the front of the dress, trying to make myself less cutesy and more freaky. I’d then painted my face with doll makeup and weaved two braids in my hair, clipping the bows to the ends.
“You look great, Jade,” Mrs. Burner says with a smile before wrangling her wriggly condiments out the door. My eyes trail after her, searching for a face I haven’t caught sight of yet. I have no idea what kind of costume a guy like Dylan would wear to Halloween. He seems low-key enough to throw on a long-haired wig and label himself a rock star, tatts already included. Or maybe he’s more the obscure pop culture type who’d turn up as a random album cover character that no one’s heard of.
The list of possibilities grows in my head as I greet each teeny terror that comes through the door until a tall witch with long green hair makes me do a double-take.
“Hey, Iris,” I say with a grin, my stomach swooping when Dylan steps in behind her with Ella.
Ohhh… oh my.My gaze tears down and up his black SWAT uniform that hugs his arms and legs in all the right places. His hands are covered with fingerless black gloves, and a pair of dark sunglasses sits up on his head, pushing back his messy hair. He looks lethal,all right. Lethallyhot.
“Wow,” Dylan murmurs as his eyes move over me the same way.
“I’m supposed to be a creepy doll,” I explain. “But it’s a bit more Dorothy fromThe Wizard of Oz. You know, if Dorothy had an OnlyFans.”
His throaty chuckle reaches right into my stomach, but Ella snags my attention when she leaps forward, her Little Red Riding Hood cloak bouncing off her pigtails.
I step past the counter and crouch to her eye level. “I’m sorry, Red Riding Hood, I don’t have any cake today for Grandma.”
Her eyes grow wide. “The wolf ate Grandma.”
My hand flies to my chest. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“She tasted like bones and blood.”
I can’t help but laugh, relieved when Iris and Dylan join in.
“Come on, monster,” Dylan says, laying a hand on his niece’s shoulder. “You better get some candy before that Piglet we saw back there catches up. Pigs are notorious greedy guts.”
Ella hurriedly fills the remaining space in her little woven basket while Dylan returns his gaze to me. “I’ll see you at The Rocking Horse later?” he confirms under his breath while Iris leads Ella outside.
“Yes, Officer,” I reply, and something alights in his eyes.
He quickly steps forward to take hold of my elbow. “Don’t do that to me,” he whispers. “Especially inthatoutfit.”
I have to take a deep breath so I don’t overheat. As he weaves his way out past the line-up of kids, I tilt sideways to fully appreciate how good his ass looks in those black pants.
“BOO!” shouts a croaky voice that nearly sends me out of my skin.
I stare down at the three-foot ghost blinking up at me, his plastic pumpkin bucket overflowing with candy. “Okay, Casper. You better make some room in there for the good stuff.”
* * *
