Page 29 of Halloween Town

Pride bit hard and Ruby realized she couldn’t back down or retreat. She had to show them how effective she could be, so she floated up to the outside light above their heads and twisted the bulb left, then right. On, off. On, off. Wasn’t that supposed to be scary?

The bulb sputtered, sparked, and died. Thom looked back over his shoulder and sighed. “Remind me to add fixing the wiring out here to my to-do list,” he said, lifting his beer to his lips.

“How long is that list?” Poppy asked, smiling. Neither of them had considered the possibility of a ghost messing with them. Seriously? They were starting to piss her off.

“I know I gave you a hard time about the changes you’ve made to the inn, but I’m grateful you are restoring it, Thom. My grandparents would be happy to know that.”

Her hand came to rest on his knee and she squeezed. He looked down, saw it there, but Poppy didn’t remove it. The tension between them leveled up further, it was now a living, breathing thing. Fine. Subtle wasn’t working. It was time to be less polite, so Ruby, beyond annoyed, slapped Thom’s bottle with an irritated hand. It wobbled, then tumbled, and spilled beer, soaking the wooden planks beside him.

Thom responded by scooping Poppy onto his lap and shifting down to avoid the spreading wet. Then he, very calmly, took Poppy’s bottle from her hand and helped himself to a long swallow.

The more Ruby intervened, the closer they got. That wasn’t just frustrating. It made her feel like she was losing.

“Thanks,” Thom said, handing the bottle back but making no effort to move her.

“Pleasure,” she replied, slinging her arm around his neck. The smile she directed at him was full of mischief. “Did you do that on purpose to get me onto your lap?”

He laughed. “I’m not that imaginative.” He looked at the fallen bottle. “I genuinely didn’t touch it. It just fell.”

“Maybe you have a ghost haunting the place,” Poppy suggested, resting her forehead on his jaw.

“Or maybe I put it too close to the edge.”

“You are annoyingly logical.”

“And you are annoyingly beautiful.”

Ruby watched their gazes lock, a hundred emotions passing between them. Then she felt Lila and Naomi tugging her, as best as they could, being ghosts, back into the house. When she looked back, she saw Poppy tuck her face into Thom’s neck, and his arms tightened around her.

“Thom…”

“Don’t tempt me, Pops,” Thom replied. “It’s too soon, and I don’t want to be the Band-Aid you slap on your heart. If we go there, I want to know that it’s me you want, and that I’m not a distraction.”

Ruby ducked around Lila to watch them. Poppy started to respond, then scrunched up her face and pouted. “I want to argue, but I suspect you are right. It is, for numerous reasons, too soon.”

Poppy turned her head to look in front of her, at the night creeping over the lake and land and turning the world that gorgeous shade of midnight blue. “I like it here, Thom. I like being with you. You always make me feel safe.”

Thom flinched, but Poppy didn’t notice. Then he stroked the hair off her forehead. “You were never as fragile as everyone—even you—thought. You just needed someone to have your back.”

Ruby froze. She’d heard men say, to her and others, that women were too demanding, too pushy, too much. But never that they were strong. Never that they were enough. Why wasn’t Thom behaving the way she expected? The way men always did? He wasn’t pulling Poppy down. He was building her up.

Ruby wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold in a way that had nothing to do with death. Women, she reminded herself, loved men, gave them everything, and when those men walked away, they were left sobbing on the floor. It had happened to her mother, to her friends, to her biker sisters.

Ruby had gone all in. She’d let Connor take everything. And when he left, she’d chased him. Her recklessness, her need to be loved, had cost her her life.

How far would Poppy go for Thom?

Poppy

The next day, Poppy sat on the porch step below Wren and leaned her head against her best friend’s thigh, seeking comfort without asking for it. While the others were already three-quarters through their beers, she was only two sips in.

Wren, Hayes, and Hadley—Hayes’s teenage daughter—arrived at Solstice Deep shortly after five with beers and snacks. Like when they were kids, no announcement was needed. They immediately headed for the steps of the front porch, partly out of habit—they always hung out on the porch when they were younger—but mostly because the house had no furniture. She’d worried briefly about the integrity of the wooden stairs—several looked one hard stomp away from collapse—but Thom waved off her concern, telling her the worst-case scenario was a splinter in her butt.

Fabulous.

She was grateful for the distraction. Hell, she would’ve welcomed a serial killer at that point if it meant not thinking about—reliving—Thom’s kiss. Because God, it had been a great kiss. Sweet. Sexy. Devastatingly lovely, surprisingly intimate. In his arms, she’d hadn’t been the woman who’d jilted Benji, or the daughter who’d disappointed her family, the unemployed, unmoored version of herself with no clear direction and no real home. For a handful of reckless seconds, none of that existed.

But his kiss also terrified her.