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“Gallus!” Ally barked a laugh. “That’s one word for it.”
“I hope your boyfriend’s not too put out?” Ruairidh added.
“Pfff, Charles will be fine,” Vivi said with a perfectly Gallic shrug. “Besides, a little competition is healthy.” She threw them a wink.
Only Vivi. That level of sass and confidence was effortless for her.
Jenn watched Ruairidh’s mouth quirk, and something about his posture shifted—just slightly, subtly. He was relaxed. Warm. Funny. A little different than usual.
“Oh—and before I forget,” Vivi said, turning to tap Ally’s arm, “you and I need to talk whisky.”
“Oh, I’m always up for a whisky chat,” Ally replied, giving her his full attention as they launched into conversation.
And while Jenn knew Vivi and Ally did have some business to talk about, she couldn’t help but notice how tidily it had all worked out. The rest of the girls were deep in their own chats, drinks in hand, totally distracted. Leaving her and Ruairidh—conveniently—alone. Witches.
“So…” Ruairidh said, clearing his throat. “You look… exceptional tonight. Not that you don’t usually, but—well—this outfit isn’t exactly airport uniform.” His gaze drifted over her again, unmistakably appreciative.
Jenn felt the heat rise in her cheeks, her fingers fussing with the straw, twisting it in and out of the ice.
“Haha, yeah, I’m not sure Ealasaid would approve,” she replied, trying for breezy but unable to stop her smile from turning just a bit coy.
Was she flirting? She might be. Hard to tell. These cocktails were strong… Or maybe it was just him.
He leaned in to say something and as he did, Jenn caught a flicker of hesitation in his expression.
“You always smell like…” He trailed off for a second, as if deciding whether to say it. “Warm sugar or something.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“No, I mean—” His mouth twisted, half embarrassed, half amused. “It’s… nice. Like fresh baking. Suits you.”
Jenn laughed, half-flustered, tucking a curl behind her ear though it instantly sprang loose again. “You sniffing me, Captain?”
“Maybe.” He bumped her knee gently under the table. “Hard not to notice when it’s this good.”
The next couple of hours blurred by in a warm, fuzzy haze of flirting, laughter, and endless cocktails.
Jenn couldn’t remember going to the bar once, yet her glass never seemed to empty. Surely they were due to refresh the kitty soon—or had the cocktail jug simply become a magical bottomless cauldron? She was definitely feeling the effects—but in a good way.
Over drinks and dance chaos, Jenn felt small brushes of contact, their knees grazing under the table, and shared glances at the group’s antics. Whenever she turned toward him, he was there—warm and broad-shouldered, forearm resting casually on his thigh, watching with quiet amusement. The steady weight of him was impossible to ignore, melting her thoughts.
The music was loud, the lighting was flattering, and the atmosphere had that perfect Halloween buzz: playful, mischievous, and just a little unhinged. The Gambler was on fire, pulling out classic after classic, so even when they weren’t dancing, they were all drunkenly singing to each other at the table. She was certain he’d bestowed more than one extra wink on Cathy Ann during their last spin round the dance floor—and every time, Cathy Ann went bright red. When she was more sober, Jenn was definitely going to investigate that further.
The Gambler was belting out I Want It That Way—which, to her surprise, Ruairidh sang with gusto, pointing a finger dramatically at her during the chorus. She joined in without thinking, voice clashing joyfully with his as they grinned at each other like kids at a wedding ceilidh, singing slightly too loud for their own good. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or hide. Because in that moment, with his eyes locked on hers and their voices raised in ridiculous harmony… She definitely wanted it that way.
Cathy Ann looked over and pointed at them triumphantly. “Yes! Join the boy band, you two!”
Jenn flushed, but Ruairidh just chuckled and clinked his cocktail glass with hers.
“Didn’t have you pegged for a Backstreet Boys fan,” she teased.
“I contain multitudes,” Ruairidh replied, eyes twinkling. “Don’t tell anyone, though. I’ve a reputation to protect.”
Jenn laughed, her pulse unreasonably high for what was—probably—just a joke.
Jenn was enjoying the quiet moments and cheeky comments, his subtle presence making her hyperaware of every shift and breath. At one point, he gently touched her elbow as he reached across her for a napkin, and the contact sent a jolt up her spine. Maybe the cocktails were getting to her. Or maybe it was just him. The whole night had that strange electricity—slightly off-kilter, something cracking under the surface. Like the whole island was buzzing.
She was glad they’d gone all in on the costumes. Everyone on Hellisay took Halloween very seriously, which only made her feel more at home. There was a wild mishmash of looks: classic vampires, chaotic witches, controversial choices best ignored, and plenty of girls working the sexy angle with confidence and glitter. Housty and his mates in full crayon costumes were especially hilarious—particularly once they started throwing out some questionable shapes on the dance floor. At one point, a blue crayon attempted the worm and nearly took out a table.
