Page 17

TREVOR

The setting sun paints the sky in shades of pink and orange. I lock the front door of the carriage house and take a moment to draw in a deep breath of fresh cool air.

Six hours dealing with removing water in the carriage house basement thanks to last night’s deluge was not how I planned to spend the day.

We haven’t had a rain come that hard and fast in years and the hairline crack in the cinderblock was no match for the downpour that came shooting in like an open fire hydrant.

Two distinctive barks come from the direction of the mansion. I jog down the steps and turn toward the sound. Jo, Bandit, and Hades head my way, the dogs straining their leashes.

She keeps them on the sidewalk, away from the soggy lawn. “All finished?”

“Yeah. Finally.” I crouch to pet the dogs. “I’m glad you suggested we check the buildings for possible leaks during the storm. If it weren’t for that, we’d have had a worse mess.”

Because we found the water when we did, I was able to temporarily patch the crack enough to prevent more damage. Bram insisted on spending the morning helping me clean up, and Jo kindly insisted on keeping the dogs at the mansion with her so we could focus on the mess.

“I learned from my basement flooding last year during that hurricane.” She passes their leashes to me.

I walk back a few steps to keep the dogs from the lawn.

Seeing their furry faces the few times I returned to the mansion to check in helped make my stressful day much better.

So did Bram helping me out for hours before I insisted he return to his own work.

He had some podcast recording to do and needed to retrieve the trail cameras. “Thanks for watching the dogs.”

Jo tucks her hair under the collar of her wool jacket. “They were fine. They kept the guests, and me, entertained. I’m off to my knitting group. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night.” The excitement of spending the evening with Bram eases the ache of my muscles and has me picking up my pace to get home quicker.

The dogs run straight across the path and up the front steps. As soon as I open the door, they bolt for the kitchen. That’s where Bram must be.

For the past few days, he’s worked on the podcast episode about the cryptid night investigation and the new sightings in Maplewood.

When we weren’t working, we hiked through the woods and drove along roads searching for evidence. Investigations with just the two of us, and the dogs, are the best. Being with him is effortless. I’m so happy he’s staying in town through Halloween.

I step out of my shoes and drop my keys in the bowl by the door. “Bram?”

“In the kitchen.”

As I walk, the sound of him talking to the dogs, asking about their day, drifts over me. It’s cute, and, as hard as it is to fathom since I’ve been in love with him forever, I fall for him even more. “Hi. Did you get the trail cameras?”

“Collected them all. Remember that cave with the nut shells? Not a single animal went by it, but a few hikers did.” He’s seated at the table, with his laptop open in front of him, and a dog on each side. His smile grows wider when he looks up at me. “How was the rest of your afternoon?”

“I finished bagging up everything that was ruined.” I stretch my back and the kinks from all the bending and lifting loosen.

“Could’ve been worse. If this had happened while we were doing inventory and checking all the props and equipment, when everything was spread out on the basement floor, we would’ve lost a lot of them. ”

Bram helped me return the props and equipment to the shelves after we inspected everything the other day. Most of the stuff was out of the water’s way, so we won’t be delayed when we begin setup this week.

Standing, he closes his laptop, then, in two steps, eliminates the distance between us. “Let me help.”

He cups my cheek, leans in, and my heart lights up at the flicker of a smile that crosses his lips the moment before they touch mine. The kiss is soft and I sink into it, wrapping my arms around him. He slides his hands to my shoulders and massages the stiff muscles.

Moaning, I let my hands wander. Over his back, along his sides, then under his borrowed flannel. “That feels good. How is your episode going?”

“I edited the video interviews and recorded the recap of our investigation. I still need to sort out photos and footage from that night, finish recording some stories, and I’m waiting on Finn’s analysis of the hair samples and his opinion of the video.

Once I have those, I can get everything lined up, and the episode will be ready to air on Saturday. ”

I lean into his magic fingers, kneading away all the little aches and pains from the day. “A lot’s going on that day. The Halloween festival, your podcast episode, opening night at the haunted house, the pumpkin carving contest. We’ll be busy from morning till night.”

The blue digits of the clock on the oven catch my eye.

The premiere of his podcast episode about Mabel is an hour and a half away.

“What do you want to do for dinner? Alaric texted, he and Jake are grabbing dinner at a Greek restaurant in New Island. And Ever said he and Dmitri are trying out a sushi place that just opened. We’re invited to both. ”

He slides his hands to rest on my chest and kisses me again. “You’ve had a stressful day, so you pick. Whatever you want.”

Tomorrow will be busy as we start dismantling the beds in the carriage house and moving furniture. “Honestly? I want to relax. How about takeout on the couch while we listen to your new episode?”

“That’s what I was hoping for.” Bram smiles and his hands journey lower, sliding over my stomach as he steps back.

The muscles in my stomach tremble and I force my hands to stay at my sides and fight through the desire to pull him back into my arms. “I don’t care what we eat.

Should we stick with the episode theme and get Mabel’s Meatloaf from Sparky’s?

Or do you want to walk along Maple Street and see what food interests us? ”

“Let’s take a walk. With the meatloaf as a backup.” He grasps my hand and leads me to the coat closet near the front door.

“Deal.”

We pull on our jackets, bid the dogs goodbye, and head out.

On the front lawn of the house across the street, skeletons dressed in sweatbands, tank tops, and shorts are posed around a volleyball net. The house beside it is lined in orange lights with filmy white ghosts suspended from thin wires so it appears they are floating beneath the trees.

The further we walk, the more elaborate the decorations.

In front of a weathered Victorian draped in cobwebs, I point out three animatronic witches surrounding a steaming cauldron like they’re in the midst of making a spell.

Every year it’s always a surprise to see how inventive some people are.

“The house decorating contest opens today.”

“Do you want to take part in it?” He stops to watch as one of the witches pours a potion into the cauldron. A bang sounds from the hidden sound system playing spooky music followed by a flash of green light.

“Not this year. I didn’t participate when I was on the Halloween committee since that would’ve been a conflict of interest. And then with all the work that goes into preparing and decorating the haunted house, I haven’t had the time or energy for the outside of my own place.”

“Do you want me to decorate it? I can buy some pumpkins?—”

“No. You’re super busy too. Maybe I’ll take part next year, if we stop doing the haunted house.” I crack my neck from side to side. “I wish I knew what to do about that. I want what’s best for the inn, but I’m not sure which is the right decision.”

Bram squeezes the back of my neck in a mini-massage. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t think there’s always one right decision. You make your choice, and then adapt. And you’ve always been good at pivoting in a new direction.”

“It’s hard to shake the feeling that the family legacy is on me. You probably felt the same, playing football in the shadow of your dad’s career.”

“I did. But since we played different positions, the shadow didn’t loom as large.

” He slips his arm around me. “Tonight is for fun. We’ll watch the podcast, let me interact with viewers in the comments, and then we’ll get a drink at The Striped Maple.

When I stopped in for lunch the other day, Conall said he was experimenting with drinks to offer for the adult trick-or-treat. We can be his guinea pigs.”

“I like that plan. It’ll be hard to top the Crimson Slasher they offered last year.”

Several of the businesses and restaurants we pass, including The Striped Maple, have fliers in their windows, advertising their participation in the adult trick-or-treat happening on Halloween night.

Bram slows to a stop outside of Red’s Diner. “I want a Mabel’s Mint Chocolate Milkshake.”

Both diners have items in honor of our resident cryptid. A milkshake sounds good after the day I’ve had. “Can you get me one? I’ll wait here.”

“Just come in with me.”

“But… Red’s…” I gesture at the train dining car turned into a diner then point to myself. “I’ll be betraying Sparky’s.”

I’m a Sparky’s supporter, like my parents and grandparents. Tons of Maplewoodians have taken sides, picking allegiances to either Red’s or Sparky’s in a diner feud that’s raged for decades. No one can remember why it started, but there are rumors of a stolen recipe.

He rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to believe the Sparky’s-Red’s feud is still going strong, but I live in Philly, and people there have very passionate opinions about where they get their cheesesteaks.”

“I know you haven’t lived here in two decades, but still… as an athlete, you should recognize a good rivalry. You used to be Team Sparky’s.”

“Because you were.” He shrugs. “But that didn’t stop either of us from bribing Agnes to bring us stuff from Red’s. We weren’t the only ones. You know everyone in this town has a supplier for their opposing diner. ”