Page 28 of Carnival of Crows

“You look beautiful.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Damien had shrugged back into his weathered crimson coat, though it hung open while he fastened the last few buttons of his vest. The white sleeves were rolled to his forearms again, revealing the tattoos I’d only caught glimpses of before.

His top hat sat upside down near one of the support beams. I wandered over and picked it up.

“Looking for this?” I asked.

He smiled. “The very one.”

Instead of handing it back, I settled it onto my own head. It was much too large. The brim slipped low enough that I had to push it back with one finger.

“Well?” I asked. “How do I look?”

His smile grew wider.

“I’ve got to admit,” he started as he stepped closer. “It suits you.”

I struck an exaggerated Ringmaster pose, one hand resting against an invisible cane.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I deepened my voice dramatically. “Welcome to Graves Park.”

He laughed. A real, hearty laugh. It was warm and unrestrained.

He closed the distance between us, gently straightening the hat where it had tilted sideways.

“You should keep practicing,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh?”

“Because next time,” he started as his fingertips brushed lightly against the brim. “You’re wearing it.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Next time, huh?”

His hands found my waist and drew me closer until only inches separated us. Then leaned down, his forehead brushing mine.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

The words were quiet enough that they almost disappeared into the wind.

“I fear I may be addicted to you, little bird.”

Heat rushed straight to my face.

“I’ve known you for…” I glanced dramatically at my phone. “What?” I pretended to calculate. “An hour and a half?”

“I stand by my statement.” He shrugged.

This whole night was crazy, but I kissed him anyway. Just once. Quickly.

“You’re trouble,” he said with a shake of his head.

“So I’ve been told.” Reluctantly, I stepped back. “As much as I’d love to stay hidden in a haunted watchtower with you all night,” I sighed dramatically, “I should probably go find my friends. They’re either worried or placing bets right about now.”

“After talking to them for approximately thirty seconds,” Damien chuckled, “I’d put money on the second option.”

I reached into the back pocket of my shorts and pulled out my phone. The screen lit instantly.

2 Missed Calls