Chapter 17 Jace #2
I wait for one of the two science nerds on the other side of the table to answer, but both Anton and Sawyer remain silent. So much for that.
“Well, it’s an option,” Margeaux offers, putting her phone down. Turning to Presley, she beams, the I’m all business look on her face melting away. “You’re bringing Otis to Truck or Treat, right?”
My insides clench, waiting on her answer. I assumed they were coming. Actually, I assumed we were all going to go together. But I haven’t actually asked.
Shit…
“Of course, he’s very excited. We got our costumes locked down the other night.”
Relief floods my veins, and I let out a long exhale, reaching over and placing a hand on Presley’s thigh under the table.
Her breath catches, a barely audible sound I almost miss, as she slides her free hand down to rest on top of mine.
This feels so good—so natural—sitting here, having lunch with her and my family, not a care in the world.
Other than if our mama’s dry ice is going to work.
“What’s Otis going as?” I ask, wanting to know everything.
Turning to me, she gives me a knowing smile. Like there’s an inside joke coming.
“Buzz Lightyear. He was recently introduced to the Toy Story movies and became very hyperfocused on that being his costume this year.”
Solid choice, Little Man…
Paired with her answer, that smile starts to make sense, leaving a giddy feeling smack-dab in the center of my chest. Like an earthworm needling itself into the dirt, whatever this feeling is works its way inside me, latching on.
I need to know if this a group costume.
“And you?” I follow up.
“Bo Peep. Not the most original, but the only girl costume I could figure out from Toy Story, other than Andy’s Mom, and Otis insisted I had to be a girl character. Because I’m a girl.”
I snicker, her answer so perfect and she doesn’t even know.
“Need a Woody?”
Presley’s eyes go wide, the pink tint in her cheeks deepening. She took that both ways it was intended. Exactly the response I was hoping for.
“That’s an awfully personal question to just bust out in the lunchroom, dude,” Anton snarks.
Fucker…
“Woody and Buzz are a pair,” I reply calmly, keeping some know-it-all in my voice. “Can’t really have one without the other.”
“Single women everywhere would tend to disagree with you on that,” Sawyer comments, not skipping a beat, her deadpan expression solidly in place. Damn, Anton is really rubbing off on her.
Giggling, Presley squeezes my hand, shooting lightning straight down my spine. “If you really want to put on a cowboy hat and a cowhide vest, I won’t stop you.”
“If that’s what does it for you, I’ll even find spurs and a sheriff’s star.” I wink, hoping to earn another giggle.
Instead, Presley ups the ante. “That’s basic requirements for a proper Woody.”
Now she’s giving me a proper woody. At lunch.
In public. You’d think we were in high school all over again with the way my body is reacting to her.
Maybe because this is exactly how my body reacted to her in high school.
Or maybe it’s because I didn’t get enough time to explore her body the other night—the sound of my name on her lips as she fell apart better than any drug.
I need to focus though. I can’t let myself get carried away—not here. More than our location, I don’t want her to think I’m only after one thing. Unless that one thing is spending time with her—and Otis—getting to know them. Being a—
Nope, not using the F word.
Cart, horse, in the correct order.
“Sounds like a deal to me. So, whaddya say? Let me take you and Otis around Truck or Treat? We can hit up all the games and trucks and whatever Little Man wants, and then help Miss Belle hand out candy?”
“You’re not in charge of something for the event?” she asks.
I pull my lips into my mouth, biting down, trying to do my best not to look guilty.
Yes, technically I am supposed to work the event.
Like all Hickory Hills town events, Hayes Industries is a sponsor, and we make our presence known.
The main Hayes truck is always parked right next to the haunted house that is set up in the field house at Newton Field, Miss Belle outdoing herself every year with the spectacle she puts on.
Anton handles hayrides around the town square, while Milo and Brandt have a Southern Brothers Brewing beer tent, and Ewan sets up a game where kids can “fish” for prizes.
Somewhere in all this, Dolly will be selling caramel apples, and all the other businesses and organizations will be handing out more candy than any one child should be on the receiving end of, all out of the back of pickups.
Small-town life at its best.
“I’m technically on treat duty,” I admit. “But pretty sure I can sneak away for a little bit to hang with you guys. Especially if Otis is willing to flirt with Miss Belle a little bit.”
It’s no secret that my mama is dying to be promoted to grandma—or Glam-ma as she keeps calling herself. If I didn’t know better, there is a part of me that wouldn’t put it past her to start tampering with birth control methods. I do know better, however.
“I think that can be arranged.” She winks. “Just one question—how scary is this haunted house?”
Errr, good question. I haven’t been through it in God knows how long. It’s just not my thing. I also have no idea what Miss Belle has up her sleeve this year. All I know is that dry ice is involved, and really, that’s only because of the so-called emergency Gus told us about.
I look to my brothers, hoping one of them can help. They look just as clueless as I am though.
“Medium, ish?” Anton shrugs, looking to Gus, who mirrors his gesture.
“I don’t think it’s a house of horrors, or anything like that,” Gus tacks on. “For one, it’s not all that big—takes maybe five minutes to walk through? But also, it’s a kids’ event, so by no means is anyone going over the top with anything. Mostly just people jumping out at you. I think.”
“Miss Belle does have these little ghosts that she gives to people to hold as a signal that you want a milder experience. So, less jumpy stuff,” I add, remember the tactic that was added a few years back. “Are you worried about Otis?”
She nods. “He’ll be curious, and may or may not be willing to understand that it’s a grown-up thing. Especially if he sees other kids going in, even if they are bigger than him.”
I wrap an arm around her, leaning in and pressing another kiss to her temple. “We’ll figure out something. Miss Belle won’t let him do anything she feels is unsafe or might upset him, and neither will I.”
Squeezing her, I pull back just enough to look her in the eye.
“I got you.”
“Then you better dust off your boots, Sheriff.”