Chapter Twenty-Three
TRUNK OR TREAT had claimed every inch of the ranch from the parking lot to the riding rings, and Divine Intervention’s table was decked out in fall colors, with boxes of handmade chocolates wrapped in pumpkin-themed paper, chocolate bars shaped liked ghosts and bats wrapped in orange foil with black bows, and truffles and bonbons free for the taking lined up on Halloween-themed trays.
Birdie was holding down the fort dressed as a Viking princess, hair braided and wrapped with leather ties, faux fur at her shoulders, and a leather belt slung low on the hips of her suede minidress, which she’d paired with fishnet stockings and knee-high furry boots.
“Mom! Dad! Can I have a bat?” an adorable little pirate with an eye patch asked as he planted himself at Birdie’s table like he meant business.
“Me too! Me too!” his tutu-wearing fairy-winged sister exclaimed, curling her tiny hands around the edge of the table, rising on tiptoes to check out the goodies.
Their father put a hand on each of their shoulders and said, “How do you ask nicely?”
“Arrr,” the little boy answered in very serious pirate speak.
“Pwease?” the little girl said. She beamed at Birdie. “I can fwy!”
“Wow, that’s amazing. I wish I could fly,” Birdie said as she dropped a chocolate into each of the kids’ bags. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes!” they shouted in unison.
“We’re going on a hayride!” the pirate exclaimed, and then sprinted away.
His little sister and father ran after him.
“Thank you,” their mother said as she followed them.
Birdie was finally enjoying a moment to breathe. She was scanning the grounds for Crew, when Quinn, dressed as Jessie from Toy Story, sidled up to her with two cups of warm cider.
“I don’t know how your family pulls off so many great events,” Quinn said, handing Birdie a cup as a group of kids sprinted past with candy-stuffed bags and painted faces. “This is even more amazing than last year.”
“Where do you think I learned it from?” Birdie said. “If the Dark Knights and my family are hosting, it’s going to look like Halloween married a county fair and popped out dozens of leather-vested babies in the form of burly men and all their family, friends, and neighbors.”
“You got that right,” Quinn said.
Birdie spotted Crew, looking downright lethal as Westley from The Princess Bride. She plucked another truffle off a tray, just as she’d done every time she’d caught a glimpse of him. She had to do something to keep from running into his arms.
“How many chocolates have you eaten tonight?” Quinn asked, bending down to retrieve a few more from the cooler.
“Seven. Possibly nine. I’m not keeping track because that would imply shame.”
“If you need a break to get some real food, I’m happy to watch the booth,” she said as she refilled the tray.
The only thing that could satiate her hunger came in the form of six-plus feet of off-limits temptation. “I’m not hungry, but thanks.”
“Okay,” Quinn said skeptically. “Is there something wrong?”
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know. I feel like I never see you outside of work anymore. I didn’t even see your costume until tonight, and you’re downing chocolates like your life depends on it.”
Guilt swamped Birdie. Not because she’d spent nearly every night with Crew, but because she was avoiding spending time with Quinn on the few nights she had free.
She loved Quinn, but Quinn had never done anything that could even be misconstrued as wrong, and Birdie didn’t want to be judged for seeing Crew.
After the way Quinn had looked at her when she’d accidentally cheered him on, she knew she was right to keep their relationship to herself, even if it hurt.
“I’m sorry. With Carly leaving next week, I’ve been focused on making sure I can handle the accounting and trying to keep up with everything else.
” It wasn’t a total lie. Birdie was getting a little nervous about taking over, but Crew assured her that he’d help if she got stuck, and he continually reminded her that she was capable of handling what needed to be done.
His belief in her definitely helped her believe more in herself.
“If you need help, I’m happy to jump in and take that over,” Quinn said.
“I know you are, and I appreciate it, but it’s time I stepped up.
” Even if it’s taking time away from what I really enjoy doing.
“Can we please stop talking about boring adult things? It’s Halloween, and you’ve waited your whole life to have a boyfriend to wear a couple costume with. How does it feel?”
“Pretty freaking great,” Quinn said. “And I swear, even dressed up as a silly Woody doll, every time Cutter walks by, I forget what I was saying. That man needs a warning label.”
Birdie knew the feeling. She’d been dealing with it all evening.
Her gaze slid to Crew across the yard having a sword fight with Gus, as her mother, dressed as Bonnie to Birdie’s father’s Clyde, and Ezra, dressed as the Big Bad Wolf to Sasha’s Little Red Riding Hood, cheered them on.
She felt herself smiling, glad he was getting a reprieve from Dare’s wrath.
“Are you…?” Quinn looked from Birdie to Crew. “Are you smiling at the guy who ghosted you?”
Panic flared inside Birdie’s chest. “What? No. It’s…Look at him and Gus with those swords. They’re cute, that’s all.”
“Good.”
Birdie nervously straightened their table.
“Is it weird seeing him?” Quinn asked. “Has he tried to talk to you?”
“Not since he apologized,” she said, hoping to shut down the conversation.
Quinn’s eyes bloomed wide. “When did he apologize?”
Shit. “He saw me in town one night and said he was sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Did he say why he ghosted you?”
“It must have slipped my mind. It was the night Carly told me she was leaving. He didn’t realize who I was, because I was calling him Ragnar and he was calling me…
It doesn’t matter,” she snapped, feeling caught and hating herself for it.
“He saw your text with my name in it and made the connection. That’s why he left. ”
“Then you’re definitely better off without him. He should have come clean that night.” As a family approached the table, Quinn lowered her voice and said, “I’m glad your family never found out. Can you imagine…?”
Birdie could imagine. That was the problem.
People came and went in waves, children clamoring for chocolates and adults trying to control their grabby hands. Juliette wandered over during a lull. She and Doc were dressed as Morticia and Gomez Addams, and little Hazel was adorable as baby Wednesday.
“Come here, you little marshmallow,” Birdie said, reaching for Hazel and propping her on her hip. “Look at this face.” She dusted her cheek with kisses, earning sweet giggles. “It should be illegal to be this cute.”
Hazel patted the fur trim on Birdie’s shoulders with her hands, grinning like she’d discovered the best toy of the night.
“You look great, Birdie,” Juliette said, “And a little like you pillaged a craft store.”
Birdie feigned a gasp. “I did not pillage. I tastefully plundered.”
Hazel grabbed a fistful of Birdie’s braid, tugging it toward her mouth.
“No, no, sweet thing. I need that hair,” Birdie said, unfurling her tiny fist and tucking her braid over her shoulder. “Can I give her a C-A-K-E P-O-P?”
“Only if you want to stay up with her while she works off the sugar high later,” Juliette said.
“I would gladly stay up all night with you.” Birdie tickled Hazel’s belly, and more giggles rang out.
“You’re going to be such a fun mom one day,” Juliette said.
She imagined tiny Viking babies with serious eyes and crazy fashion sense, running around causing havoc. But her next thought came with a pang of sadness. How could they ever have anything that real?
“She’ll totally be a fun mom,” Quinn said.
“I’ll be the mom who sends them to school with glitter in their hair and mismatched socks,” Birdie said as her mother sidled up to them.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” her mother said, taking Hazel from her. “Honey, I was just talking to Carly, and she told me you’ve really gotten a handle on the accounting.”
“I have,” Birdie said proudly. “I’ve been buckling down, doing lots of hands-on work, and giving it my all.” Her mind promptly supplied images of her and Crew mattress dancing, christening her couches, the tables, and even the cab of his truck.
Her mom smiled. “See, honey? It’s not that hard.”
“Oh, it’s hard all right,” Birdie said, trying to keep a straight face.
“But it turns out, I do my best work when things are hard.” A scorching memory of Crew bending her over the couch and taking her from behind flashed in her mind.
“The harder the better, in fact, and I’m enjoying reaping the rewards for my efforts. ”
“Rewards?” Quinn asked.
Thinking fast, Birdie said, “Yeah. My creativity has been off the charts. That’s a reward. I came up with all those new chocolates for an anti-Valentine’s Day event and baby-themed boxes, didn’t I?”
“You have been super creative lately,” Quinn said. “The Banger Bonbon box was brilliant. The names of the chocolates are perfect. The Break Me Open, the All Nighter, the Secret Sin.”
Her mother arched a brow.
“They’re chocolates for your booty-call buddy,” Quinn explained.
“Oh my goodness, Birdie,” her mother said. “You and your cousin Madigan are a hoot.”
Her cousin Madigan lived on Cape Cod and created the Mad Truth About Love greeting cards, which included a booty-call line.
“Great minds,” Birdie said. “My late-night study sessions inspired me.”
Her mother’s eyes lit up. “That shouldn’t surprise me. You are a Whiskey woman after all. We have many kinds of talents. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up, because you’re shining bright, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Mom. I intend to keep it up,” Birdie said.