Page 28

brAM

Light from a battery-operated candle flickers inside the jack o’lantern on Trevor’s dresser.

Though he told me not to worry about decorating his house, I couldn’t resist bringing in a few touches of Halloween. A trio of pumpkins in the living room, a witch’s hat on the front door, and a smiling ghost beside the coffee maker in the kitchen. And of course, our bedroom jack o’lantern.

Each time he sees a decoration, he smiles. I love bringing that look to his face.

Standing in front of the mirror hanging on the inside of Trevor’s bedroom closet door, I inspect my reflection. “This is the best idea for a costume.” I rub the flannel’s soft fabric between my thumb and forefinger. Shades of blue from pale to navy cross each other over the material.

Laying it atop a black T-shirt, faded jeans, and my boots completes the look.

We agreed that we wanted to keep our costumes simple and thanks to Trevor’s collection of shirts, we’ve succeeded. Though I worry they’re so simple people may think we didn’t bother doing costumes.

I turn away from the mirror. The jeans are from a thrift store in New Island, but the rest of the outfit is similar to what I’ve been living in since I got here. “What do you think?”

Clad in jeans and nothing else, Trevor pauses with his T-shirt in his hand. My hungry gaze travels over his ripped muscles. He looks me over, nods, and smiles. “Totally passes for ’90’s grunge. You look good. Sexy.”

“Yeah?” Loving that he sees me that way, I swoop in and steal a quick peck. But when I pull back, he bands his arm around my waist and draws me against him. There’s a quick flash of his smile before his mouth claims mine.

This kiss is thorough, a claiming that storms and demands, and I gladly yield.

His tongue licks the seam of my lips, seeking entry.

Grasping his shoulders, I open for him. It’s so easy to lose myself in the feel and taste of him.

No matter how many kisses we’ve shared, I always want more. Each kiss is as exciting as our first.

Breathless, we pull back. Trevor keeps his arm around me and we watch each other as the rise and fall of our chests sync up.

The way his eyes shine when he’s smiling at me makes my chest ache. He’s so good and I want him to be mine.

“I should finish getting ready.” He releases me with the slow slide of his arm returning to his side. His obvious reluctance is sweet, and if we weren’t supposed to meet up with our friends tonight, I’d pull him to the bed this second.

“Yeah. I’ll grab your flannel.”

He pulls his faded gray tee over his head. That tee is part of our shared history. He bought it at a concert we attended a decade ago. I have one too, tucked in a drawer at home, and whenever I see it, I think of him and the way he looked that night, singing along to the songs beside me.

After taking a black and orange plaid flannel off its hanger, I hold it out so he can slide on the soft shirt. “So how does the trick-or-treat tonight work? Are all the vendors in one place like they were at the festival?”

Trevor leaves the shirt open over his tee.

Though he’s going for a grunge look too, he’s still giving off sexy lumberjack vibes.

“No. It’s more like a pub crawl, we go from shop to shop and they’ll give us food, drinks, or treats.

I thought we could start off at Special Blend. We’ll save The Striped Maple for last.”

I run my palm down his tee, smoothing out the wrinkles and giving myself an excuse to caress his chest. “We don’t have to stay out long. It was a busy day.”

Trevor worked at the inn this morning while I hunkered down at the library mired in research. We spent the afternoon working at the haunted house, then handed out candy to the trick-or-treaters, and grabbed dinner with Agnes before coming back here to get ready for the adult trick-or-treating.

He grabs a pair of battered leather boots from the closet floor and crouches to tug them on. “Tomorrow will be another one. I have to start taking down the haunted house decorations and getting those rooms ready for guests again.”

Sitting on the side of his bed, watching him, waves and swells of want and need wash through me. “I can help with that.”

Those brown eyes round then widen and his fingers pause over the laces he’s tying. His mouth works open then closed like he’s choosing his words with care. “I don’t want to hold you up if you need to get back home.”

“I want to be there for you, and…” I’m drowning in all that I feel for him. The thought of leaving strikes panic through my core, a frenzied desperation to latch onto him and never let go. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

Relief rushes across his features. Trevor surges to his feet and his hand closes around his medallion. “Good. I’m not either. I don’t want you to go.”

Something inside me releases and in a flash, I’m in front of him, pulling him into my arms. Our lips meet. There’s the familiar hunger and sweetness, but layered beneath it now is a more secure, solid foundation.

I raise my head. We gaze at each other, smiling, until Bandit’s barks downstairs, quickly echoed by Hades’s deeper tones, suggest someone is either walking on the sidewalk in front of the house or cutting across the inn’s parking lot.

Tonight’s the last night for the haunted house and the dogs have barked at every attendee passing by this week.

Trevor places his hand over my heart. “We should go.”

We head downstairs, say goodbye to the dogs, leave the TV show featuring rescue farm animals playing for them, and then are on our way.

The streetlights glow with yellow warmth and twinkling lights in orange and purple are wrapped around the bases. Several people in costumes wander along Maple Street.

We stop by Special Blend first for a free shot of espresso.

The shop’s owner, Caspian Lane, whose coffee recommendations have flavored many of my days in Maplewood, passes them out in festive cups imprinted with jack o’lanterns.

The coffee is smooth and delicious and the jolt of caffeine comes on quick.

As we leave the shop, I spy Jason Zervudachi and his boyfriend Bellamy Jordan, who I’ve learned is a pro hockey player for the Vermont Trailblazers, with a group of friends. We smile and wave. Both men sport hockey jerseys, and I wonder if those were last-minute costumes, like Trevor’s and mine.

Ever’s shop is next door, but a large group of trick-or-treaters take up all the space inside, so we continue down to Scoops on Maple.

There, Trevor introduces me to the shop’s owner, Sam Thatcher, and Sam gives us a trio of ice cream samples.

Of the pumpkin pie, maple brown sugar, and vanilla with a salted caramel swirl, my favorite is the pumpkin. Trevor prefers the salted caramel.

We walk up and down Maple Street and I’m reminded of trick-or-treating with him as a kid. At Harmonic Circus, the music store’s owner passes out guitar picks and packs of foam ear plugs that he recommends concertgoers wear.

A detour to Garnet Drive gives us boxes of movie candy from the Playhouse. M&M’s for Trevor and Junior Mints for me. Back on Maple Street, we stroll through a series of moody paintings at Wild Palette.

When we leave the gallery, Trevor links his hand with mine and pulls me out of the path of people entering the space. “Let’s try Ever’s shop again.”

Two shops down the street, the Honey Spot is less crowded now.

The bell on the door chimes as we enter.

Our silver fox friend is dressed as a beekeeper which I know is his genuine outfit for handling his bee hives.

Ever spots us and waves, but is in a conversation with a woman wearing a unicorn costume.

Since he’s busy, we visit Dmitri at the counter.

Wearing a purple witch’s hat and cloak, he points a wand at a large black cauldron filled with individually wrapped honey candies. “Help yourselves.”

“Nice costume.” I reach in for two pieces and pass one to Trevor.

He flicks the side of his cloak so it billows, showing off the satin lining imprinted with stars. “Thanks.”

Ever comes over, scans our outfits, and smirks. “Did you both dress up as Trevor? Or are you supposed to be lumberjacks?”

“Ha, ha.” Trevor narrows his eyes in what I’m guessing is supposed to be a threatening gesture, but the quirk of his lips ruins the effect.

I sling my arm over his shoulder, bumping his hip with mine. “We’re embracing our grunge phase again.”

“Oh. Of course. I see it now.” Ever shakes his head at us.

Dmitri links his arm through Ever’s. “It’s not like you bought a costume either, my sexy beekeeper.”

“Shh.” Smiling at his boyfriend, Ever pulls Dmitri in for a kiss.

I add the candy to the bag we got at Harmonic Circus. “Are you coming to The Striped Maple?”

“We’ll head over as soon as we close up here.” Ever looks past us and waves at the new trick-or-treaters coming in.

“Cool. We’ll see you there.” I tap Trevor’s arm and angle my head toward the door. The shop is getting crowded and we’ll see our friends soon enough, since the trick-or-treating is wrapping up within the hour.

The night is cold, but Trevor’s arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist keep me warm while we walk the half block to The Striped Maple.

Several people in costumes hang around outside the building, some on phones, others vaping, and still more talking and trading candy from earlier stops at shops.

We skirt around them and open the door. The pub is lively, brimming with people and upbeat music.

Most of the patrons and pub employees are dressed in costumes.

Trevor leans in. “Let’s get a drink. We have a better chance at the bar than waiting for a table to open.”

He and I wind a path through the crowd, with Trevor stopping to greet just about everyone we see.