Page 41 of Pinch

“You could be Cruella Deville!” I suggest excitedly.

“Haddy! She was breeding dalmatian puppies to use for a dog-fur coat! That’s pure evil.”

“It’s Halloween,” I counter. “You’re supposed to be pure evil.”

“Princess Leia’s not pure evil. She’s good.”

It’s true. “You could be Rey fromThe Force Awakens.”

“Why doesn’t Star Wars have any strawberry-blonde characters?” My cousin frowns up at Mav, who is strutting around with his hand up like a prissy Big Foot.

“That is a good question, girl!” He sticks out his index finger and boops her nose.

“What the hell are you?” Gav frowns at his friend. “Lady Chewbacca?”

“There is no Lady Chewbacca!” Mav groans.

“If there were no lady Chewbaccas, how would they get the little Chewbaccas?” Gina bats her eyes at him as she lifts the wooden ladder and starts to carry it into the house.

Gavin steps forward quickly to take it from her. “Let me help you.”

“You can be Glinda the good witch,” Mav suggests.

“Do you know how many times I’ve been Glinda?”

“What about Pretty Woman? Or Danger-Prone Daphne?” I try.

She waves her hand, following Gav into the house. “I’ll figure it out.”

Stepping back, I survey our decorations, from the orange twinkle lights framing the front door to the large bowls of candy we’ll hand out to trick or treaters. The party will start after dark, after the kids are finished making the rounds, which looking up, I realize is about to begin.

“I’ve got to get dressed! Mav, are you ready if kids show up?”

“Ready with the full-sized Hershey bars.” His eyebrows waggle, and he rips the plastic off the packages. “Best house on the block.”

“Never grow up,” I tease, dashing up the stairs to get changed.

“Another Maverick Murphy!”I exclaim, handing the little boy a full-sized chocolate bar. “That makes ten.”

“Ten Mavs and only six Gavs.” My cousin tilts his Yeti head, pretending to be sympathetic. “Looks like I’m winning, bro.”

“Don’t get cocky.” The sound of boots clomping up behind us makes us turn, and I swallow air.

Gav walks up in tight brown pants and black boots, a long-sleeved white T-shirt, and a black thin-puffer vest. A belt with a silver buckle is slung low on his narrow waist, and on his leg is a band with a black water gun attached.

“I’ll be danged, it’s my ole buddy Han.” Mav reaches up to pull the pink bow out of his “hair,” and with the flick of his fingers, the pink belt is gone.

Then he emits a near-perfect Chewbacca roar.

“That’s more like it.” Gav steps up beside his friend, and they both look down at me standing there with my mouth open. “What do you think, Princess?”

I think I just ovulated.

Clearing my throat, I manage to get out, “You look really good.” Before we’re interrupted by loud voices yellingTrick or Treat!

The side of his lips curls up with a sly grin, and heat flashes from my stomach to my toes. Turning quickly, I grab more candy bars for the kids. It’s almost time for trick-or-treating to end, and cars are starting to arrive for the adult party.

“I’ve got the eyeball Jell-O shots all ready to go!” Mav heads to the kitchen to fetch a tray of red plastic cups with eyeballs suspended in them. “Don’t worry—there’s plenty more where these came from.”