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I flick my gaze toward the tower of bones straddling what seems to be a giant flamingo pool float wearing a witch’s hat. “Wait a dang second.” I screw my face into a scowl as I try to swallow my laughter. “You tryin’ to say that’s Rooster ridin’me?”
Jigsaw blinks and sputters. “Your man sanctioned it.” He jumps off the porch, landing on the grass with a dull thud, and points an accusatory finger Logan’s way. “Back me up, brother.”
“You saidsomeHalloween decorations,” Logan counters. “Not this skeleton humping a flamingo monstrosity.”
Jigsaw giggles athumping. “That’s what it looks like, huh?” He squints at the decorations. “I see it now.”
“Jesus,” Logan grumbles.
I sigh and glance at the decorations again. It’s tacky as all get-out but kind of funny, too. It’s not like we got lotsa neighbors who’ll give a damn anyway. “It’s pretty dang clever, Jiggy. And certainly unique.”
Jiggy’s mouth curls into a smug grin.
“Don’t encourage him,” Logan protests.
“Songbird-approved.” Jiggy slaps Logan’s shoulder and jogs into the yard. “Wait until you see the rest of it!”
I peer up at Logan. “There’s more?” I whisper.
“I told you not to encourage him.”
I give Logan a closer inspection. Blue and gray plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough to provide an enticing view of his forearms. Dang, my man wears plaid well. I never get tired of looking at him.
“You’re looking mighty fine there, Logan.” Pressing one hand against his chest, I lean up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Bristly beard tickles my lips and I kiss him again. “I think my favorite thing about moving to New York is seeing you in all those flannels you like to wear in the fall.”
He grins and slides his arms around my waist, lifting me higher to plant a longer kiss on my lips. “You’re nowmyfavorite thing about New York.”
“Cock-a-doodle-dooooo!” Jigsaw shouts from outside.
“That’s like his mating call for you, isn’t it?” I tease.
Logan growls a few curses and sets me down. “Only mating going on around here is you and me.”
I wave my hand at him. “You know what I mean.”
“Let me go see what he wants. Otherwise, he’ll keep on yodeling out there.”
I busy myself putting away the few things I picked up at the store. All the different kinds of seltzer available has been another bonus about moving to New York.
Outside, the loud drone of the mail truck zips up, slows, takes off. A few seconds later, the front door bangs open.
“Mail call!” Logan announces. He swaggers in, grinnin’ like the cocky critter he got his road name from. In his hands, he’s carrying a short stack of envelopes and a small brown box.
“Anythin’ good?” I ask.
“Hell yeah.” He sets the envelopes—probably bills—on the counter and holds out the box. “I’ve been waiting for this one. Your Halloween present a few days early.”
“It’s for me?” Dang it. He got me a Halloween present? Why didn’t I think of anything better than a naughty fairy costume for his personal enjoyment?
“Actually, hold on.” He pulls a knife out of his pocket and neatly slices through the seal on the box, then hands it to me.
“Thanks.” I flip the lid open and strings of holographic paper flutter to the floor. “Ooops.” I lean over to scoop up the rogue packing material, crunching it in my hand. A black velvet pouch is nestled in the center of all the sparkly paper. “What is it?”
“Open.” Logan’s keen eyes focus on the box as if he’s just as excited to see what it is as I am.
Everything looks so pretty, I hate to disturb it, but I carefully lift the silky-soft pouch. It’s heavy and neatly cinched together. My fingers detect a rectangular box inside the fabric. Excitement flutters in my belly. Is it a new deck of Tarot cards?
“Oh my goodness,” I whisper, setting everything on the counter and unlacing the pouch.
