Page 79 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

And somehow, despite living with the man for nearly thirteen months and sharing a bed, a shower, and entirely too many scandalously distracting mornings… Milo still hadn’t developed any immunity whatsoever.

“You are staring again,” Grievance said while at the same time moving his hair to expose more of that chiseled jawline.

Asshole. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Maybe I’m assessing for signs of hypothermia since you’re walking around basically shirtless in October.”

“Mhm,” Grievance said, not at all convinced.

“It would be irresponsible not to. I am the village Healer after all.”

Grievance’s mouth curled into that slow smile that always made Milo’s stomach perform acrobatics.

“You are a very dedicated witch.”

“I am.”

“So dedicated that you’ve nearly fallen or walked into something three times now.”

“…Four,” Pip corrected.

Milo pointed toward his hat without looking.

“No one asked you.”

Grievance laughed, the low rumble warm enough that Milo could almost pretend the October breeze hadn’t found its way down his collar and sent chills down his back. He should have brought a jacket.

Pumpkin Hollow’s main square bustled with preparations for the festival. Floating jack-o’-lanterns drifted lazily overhead, bobbing between strings of enchanted lanterns that glowed honey-gold despite the afternoon sun. A pair of witches argued over whether bats counted as “tasteful décor” while a gaggle of broom-riding children chased one another around the fountain, leaving harmless trails of glittering orange sparks in their wake.

Someone had jinxed the scarecrows again, which was causing quite a commotion. One tipped its floppy hat toward every passerby. Another played a tiny fiddle, and it wasn’t half bad. A third had somehow learned to wolf-whistle, earning a few disgruntled looks from a group of scandalized dwarven women.

“Honestly,” Milo muttered, as the third one let out an appreciative whistle when Grievance walked by, “even the decorations have eyes for you.”

The scarecrow gave Grievance an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Grievance nodded back politely.

“Ugh. Don’t encourage it,” Milo groaned.

“Maybe it was being friendly.”

“I don’t like the way its button eyes looked you up and down.”

“I am unsure what that means.”

“It means you’re too handsome for your own good.”

“Hmm, how tragic.”

Milo shot him a look. “Are you done? Your smugness is starting to spill all over the street. It’s messy. Somebody is going to have to clean this up.”

Grievance laughed, then bent low so only Milo could hear in the densely packed crowd.

“The only eyes I want on me are yours. Looking up… from your knees, watering while you choke on me.”

Milo coughed loudly, causing a few tourists to quickly shuffle away.

“Grievance!” Milo yell-whispered. “I told you not—in—public.”

“And I recall telling you I—make—no—promises.” Then he pinched Milo’s ass for good measure.