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“You love me!” she shouts across the way just as an animated ghost wiggles and flies on a string across the ceiling. Cara tries to hand me a bag of candy, but I refuse.
Once I’m in the car, I let out a laugh. Everleigh’s something else, but she’s right, I do love her along with all her ridiculous antics. She’s Gemma’s and my number one fan, and I appreciate how much she supports the idea of us being together. It’s something she’s wanted for longer than I can remember. She deserves a matchmaker award because she’s so damn sly.
It doesn’t take long before I’m turning into Gemma’s driveway. I’m almost twenty minutes early, but if I know her, she’s dressed and pacing, trying to figure out where I’m taking her. She won’t guess, and I threatened to feed Everleigh TV dinners for the next month if she slipped.
I knock on Gemma’s door, and she immediately wraps her arms around my neck and plants her lips on mine. “I’ve missed you.”
“I always miss you,” I admit, taking in the sweetness of her skin. “You taste delicious.”
She grabs my hand and drags me inside. I cross my arms over my chest and smirk when I see what she’s wearing.
“Am I dressed properly? Should I change?” Concern covers her face.
I grab her hand and pull her closer. “It’s the season when all the basic ladies dress like Han Solo, so I’d say you nailed it. And you’ve even have a scarf with candy corn on too.”
She snickers and playfully smacks me. “Blame Everleigh! All of this came from her shop. She’s a bad influence and makes me want to buy everything in there.”
“She’s really good at that, but truthfully, you’re dressed perfectly for the occasion. You’re beautiful.” I slide my lips against hers. “Ready?”
She sighs. “If you only knew how bad I wanted you right now.”
“It’s worth the wait, I promise,” I whisper, kissing her again. “Let’s get going.”
“Okay, fine! You’re so determined to drive me crazy.” She whines and pouts, but a smile meets her lips and ruins her act. We drive across town, and her brows furrow when she realizes where I’m taking her.
I park outside the shop, and Gemma narrows her eyes at me. “We’re visiting Everleigh?”
“She made me promise I’d bring you to see her,” I admit.
Gemma chuckles and shakes her head but doesn’t say anything because she’s aware of how my sister is. Hell, she knows her better than I do. We get out of the car and walk inside, and Gemma immediately lights up when Everleigh rushes and nearly tackles her to the ground. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“The shop is amazing! You added way more stuff and have completely transformed it into Halloween central.” Gemma studies the outlandish decorations with wide eyes. Everleigh might’ve gone overboard, but neither of us admit it.
“Every customer has loved it.” My sister snickers and goes to a giant cauldron with smoke billowing from inside. A moment later, she dramatically grabs a bag of candy from it as if she magically made it appear, then hands it to Gemma.
“You two have fun,” Everleigh squeals and whispers something in Gemma’s ear. When she pushes away, a blush hits Gemma’s cheeks, and I can only imagine what was said.
“We’re leaving now,” I sing-song, grabbing Gemma’s hand and interlocking my fingers with hers.
“Aww,” Everleigh says loudly, and I keep moving forward. When we’re outside, the crisp fall breeze hits my cheeks, and when I glance over at Gemma, she’s smiling wide as she opens the bag. “I love candy corn.”
“The whole town is going to have a sugar rush, compliments of Everleigh,” I throw out.
Gemma walks toward the car, and I shake my head.
“Don’t we have somewhere to be?” she asks, confused.
“Yep, we do,” I say and squeezing her hand. When we round the corner, she finally realizes what I planned.
“The Harvest Festival? I haven’t been since I was a teenager,” she beams with a hop to her step and a grin so wide it’s contagious.
After four blocks, we’re in the middle of the town square. Everywhere I look has some sort of activity going on or kids running around in costume. I wrap my arm around Gemma as we stroll the street full of vendors and booths.
“Ma’am, wanna get your face painted?” a young girl asks her. There’s a poster board full of different designs. Gemma grins and looks back at me, almost as if she’s waiting for my approval. It almost breaks my heart because I’m sure Robert didn’t like things like this.
“If you want,” I encourage. “It’ll be fun.”
A moment later, she sits on the stool as the girl moves Gemma’s long brown hair away from her face.
“What kind of design?” she asks, pointing at the choices.
Gemma taps her index finger on her mouth then smiles. “What about a cat?”
