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“I couldn’t agree more.” I laugh and pour us each another glass of wine.

“How did you get into haunted ride design?” Romi asks, her gaze steady and curious over the flickering candlelight.

“I always loved to tinker with stuff. Somehow, that led me to studying Mechanical Engineering. From there, I came home and took the head designer job at Midnight Industries and the rest is history.”

“I can tell you love it.” She leans close, and I barely resist the urge to pull her into my lap.

“There's something thrilling about sculpting the unknown and tapping into people's deepest fears, all the while ensuring they have the time of their lives. There's an art to it," I continue, "finding that fine line between thrilling and terrifying.”

She nods as if she genuinely finds my world fascinating. “I can't wait to see one of your masterpieces.”

“You’ve got a standing invite. I’ll take you to Midnight Scares anytime you want,” I assure her, pleased with the look of anticipation on her face.

“I can’t wait! I freaking love haunted houses.” She nearly vibrates with excitement, and I fall even deeper under her spell.

As we share the decadent chocolate torte for dessert, I decide it’s time to get to know everything about her. “So, what brought you to Midnight Falls?” I ask, feeling the curiosity simmering in my questions.

“The job at Trick or Treat.” She shrugs and takes another bite of the torte. “I needed a change of scenery, and I’d heard a ton of great things about Midnight Falls,” she replies with a smile.

“And so you could get away from your overprotective sister?”

“That too.” She chuckles. “When Tony offered me the job, I jumped at the chance to move here. It didn’t go over well with Yvette, but she got over it.” Romi gives me this knowing look, her lips curving into a wry grin. “Until she met my landlord. It took a ton of reassurance to get her to leave town after she met Viola.”

“Viola?” Surely, she isn’t talking about the crazy old lady who regularly terrorizes the town.

“I rent a small garage apartment at Viola Brinkley's house.” She chuckles.

“I can’t believe you live with old Mrs. Brinkley, the one and only town legend, notorious for her unusual ways.” More than unusual. The elderly woman sits on her porch every day in an old floral nightgown with curlers in her hair and a cigarette hanging from her mouth. On Halloween, she gives out candy to the kids and small bottles of bourbon to the adults.

Romi shrugs. “I actually love it. She’s a doll and her pet iguana, Herman, hangs out in the window surveying his domain.”

“Ah, Midnight Falls’ very own eccentric grandma,” I muse. “You know she’s convinced aliens landed in her garden last summer?”

“She might have told me that once or twice,” Romi admits, laughing again. There’s something infectious about the way her laughter fills the room, chasing away any shadows.

I lean back, marveling at how this evening is turning out even better than I dared to hope. It's not just the chemistry between us, which feels undeniable, or how easy our conversation flows. It's Romi herself. The way she seems to fit naturally amidst the folds of my life like she’s been a part of it forever.

“You’re fucking perfect,” I tell her, sincerity threading through my words. “I’m glad you decided not to have me thrown out of Trick or Treat the night we met.”

She meets my eyes, her gaze steady and warm. “It was touch and go for a few minutes,” she teases. “But you grew on me—kinda like a fungus. I just couldn’t resist you.”