Page 24 of Trick or Tease

GARRETT

M y stomach dropped. I was not usually a nervous guy, but it was never good when a woman said, “We need to talk.” Especially when it was a woman I had such complicated feelings for. The four words that struck fear into the heart of every man who’d ever lived.

“Look, Sabrina—” I started, but before I could figure out what the hell I was going to say, Billy’s voice interrupted us.

The fucker had an uncanny knack for interrupting at the worst times. Cockblock. Fuck. I was going to put a bell on his ass.

“How’s it looking over here?” he called out, jogging up the trail with Lucy right behind him.

Sabrina immediately busied herself arranging plastic tombstones, but I caught the flash of frustration that crossed her face. We would have to finish this conversation later, which was both a relief and torture.

“Good,” I said, forcing my voice to sound normal. “Just getting the trail set up for tonight’s hayrides.”

“Awesome. Hey, did you finish all that paperwork stuff? The LLC and insurance and all that legal nightmare you were working on?”

I nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “Yeah, we’re covered. Filed the articles of organization yesterday, got temporary insurance coverage in place, and I drafted liability waivers for everyone to sign. You’re officially protected.”

“Dude, you’re a lifesaver,” Billy said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I was lying awake last night thinking about all the ways this could go wrong legally. I didn’t even know about half that shit until you told me.”

“Well, you can sleep better now. The business is properly set up, insured, and?—”

My phone started ringing with that distinctive FaceTime tone. I glanced at the screen and saw Mom’s contact photo smiling back at me.

“It’s Mom and Dad,” I announced, accepting the call.

The screen filled with both of my parents’ faces, squished together as they tried to fit into the camera frame. They were clearly sitting in the RV. I could see pine trees through the window behind them.

“Boys!” Mom practically shouted, loud enough that Billy, Lucy, and Sabrina all gathered around my phone to see. “How are things going? We’ve been dying to hear about opening day!”

“It was incredible,” Billy said, leaning into the frame. “We had hundreds of people show up. Way more than we expected.”

“Hundreds?” Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Lucy chimed in. “We could barely keep up. Garrett had to jump in and help organize everything.”

I caught Sabrina glancing at me when Lucy mentioned my name, but she quickly looked away.

“That’s wonderful!” Mom beamed. “And, Garrett, you’re still there helping out?”

“Yeah, I’m sticking around a bit longer,” I said. “Making sure everything gets off the ground properly.”

“Where are you guys right now?” Sabrina asked, peering at the screen.

“We’re almost to Yellowstone,” Dad said. “We’re going to drive in tomorrow.”

“You made good time,” I said.

“Yeah, we wanted to get over here before it snowed.”

We chatted a bit longer before we said our goodbyes. It was good seeing them and how happy they were. They deserved it.

“You guys need any help?” Billy asked.

I looked at Sabrina. That “talk” was looming. May as well get it over with.

“We’re good,” I said.

“Good. We’re going to head into town and pick up the cocoa and stuff for tonight.”

“We’ll be here,” I said.

She gestured toward the trail that led up to the house, away from where Billy and Lucy would be working. “Walk with me.”

I hesitated, remembering the last time I’d followed her somewhere secluded. My body still remembered exactly how that had ended.

“Only if you swear there isn’t some scare prank waiting for me,” I said. “No fake spiders dropping from trees, no teenagers in clown masks jumping out of bushes.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “I promise. No pranks.”

That small smile gave me hope that maybe this conversation wasn’t going to be as bad as I had been imagining. Maybe she wasn’t about to tell me I was an asshole and to stay the hell away from her. Though, to be fair, I probably deserved both of those things.

“So, about the barn incident,” she started. “We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

I sighed knowing this was the conversation we had to have but hoping it would just go away. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

That was good. And bad. Because that meant there was a chance it could happen again.

And it couldn’t. It shouldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt her but I also knew a long-distance relationship would never work.

And how would we ever see each other? After last night, I was dying for another taste of her.

If I actually got to bury myself inside her, that was not going to be something I could settle for once a month or every few months.

Something told me she would be addicting. The kind of thing that I need a lot more of.

We continued to walk, neither of us saying anything but her arm brushed against mine.

I didn’t pull away. I leaned into the contact.

It felt right. Normal. Like we always went for walks.

We used to. Fifteen years ago we walked all over, me and her and Billy and Lucy.

Back then it had been so natural. Easy. We didn’t have to think about anything.

Did the kissing complicate things?

Of course it did. But maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.

Before I knew it, we were standing in front of the old house. There were some decorations around the front of it. Billy told me they were talking about making the house haunted. I hadn’t been up to see and wasn’t sure what they did or didn’t do.

“The house where love died,” I said. “According to your grandmother.”

“She also said his spirit still haunts the place. Sounds like the love never died at all.”

“If my great grandfather would make an appearance for the hayrides, he’d be doing us a real solid.” I paused, replaying the words that came out of my mouth. Why did I use the word us ? The farm and the festival weren’t my thing.

“We could make our own ghosts,” Sabrina said. “If the lawyer will let us kick things up a notch.”

“I hope you didn’t bring me up here to kill me so I’ll be the ghost.”

She nudged my shoulder as she laughed. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Okay, how do we make a ghost? Those goofy sheets you’ve got in the maze are probably not going to do much for the spooky aesthetic.”

“I’m talking about some strobe lights, some gauzy curtains, a box fan, and a cardboard cutout of a person.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

“I have.” She nodded. “When I was doing the tours, everyone kept looking for something. It was a little anticlimactic. I think we need to give them something more.”

“Yeah?”

“We’d have to go in the old house though,” she said. “To set up the ghost.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t seem like a good idea. I was serious when I said the house could fall down at any minute.”

“It’s fine,” she said.

“Yeah, the place is… just no.”

“Why? You scared of restless spirits?”

“I’m scared of mold and rotted floorboards.”

“Sure,” she said sarcastically. “I saw you in that parking garage. I think you believe in this stuff more than you’ll admit.”

It’s reverse psychology. I can see right through it. But it still works. “I’ll go in if you will.”

We climbed up the old porch. “I swear, if this is how I die, I’m haunting you, not this house.”

She just laughed.

I pulled off the two boards that had been put over the front door to keep curious teens out.

The old rusty nails creaked as I yanked.

It sounded like the cries of the damned.

Did I believe in spirits and ghosts and all the things that went bump in the night?

Maybe. Possibly. I didn’t not believe in them, so that left a window of possibility.

I opened the door and pushed it open.

“You first,” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “Good to see chivalry isn’t dead.”

“Hey, you’re the one that wants to go in.”

The interior was dim and dusty, with shafts of afternoon sunlight filtering through gaps in the boarded windows.

I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the gloom, surprised by what I found.

The place was in much better shape than I’d expected.

No overwhelming smell of rot or decay, no signs of raccoons or other wildlife having taken up residence.

Just the musty scent of old wood and no air.

The floorboards creaked ominously under our feet as we took a few tentative steps into the foyer.

Sabrina’s hand immediately shot out to grab my arm, her fingers digging into my sleeve.

I was more than happy for the contact, especially since the old house was giving me the creeps in ways I didn’t want to admit.

“It’s not so bad,” Sabrina whispered, though I noticed she didn’t let go of my arm.

I looked around the entry hall, taking in the faded wallpaper peeling at the edges and the ornate wooden staircase that curved up to the second floor.

Despite decades of abandonment, there was something almost elegant about the bones of the place.

I could imagine what it must have looked like in its heyday, when my great-great-grandfather Samuel had lived here with his family.

“The staircase is beautiful,” Sabrina said, her voice filled with wonder. “Look at that carved banister.”

She was right. Even covered in dust and cobwebs, the craftsmanship was impressive. Someone had put real care into building this place.

“I always wondered what it looked like inside,” she continued, finally releasing my arm to move deeper into the room. “Billy and I used to dare each other to come up here when we were kids, but we never actually made it past the porch.”

“Smart kids,” I muttered, testing the floorboard under my foot. It held, but I could feel it give slightly. “This place really could be dangerous.”

But even as I said it, I found myself curious too. This house was part of my family history, and I’d never bothered to explore it. Had never wanted to, if I was being honest. It represented everything about this place I’d been trying to escape.

Now, standing in the dusty foyer with Sabrina beside me, I felt something different. Not the claustrophobic need to run that usually hit me when confronted with family legacy, but genuine interest in the man who’d built this place and the life he’d lived here.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Sabrina whispered.

“Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a small laugh. “Something about this place makes you want to whisper.”

I understood what she meant. There was something about the old house that demanded reverence, like we were trespassers in a sacred space. Which, technically, we were.

“If we’re going upstairs, I’m going first,” I said, moving toward the staircase. “If these boards give way, I’d rather it be me who falls through.”

“Such a gentleman,” she teased, but I could hear the nervousness in her voice too.

I tested the first step, then the second. The wood groaned under my weight, but it held. Each step was a small act of faith, trusting that hundred-year-old craftsmanship would keep us from plunging through to the floor below.

Halfway up, I paused and looked back at Sabrina. She was following close behind, one hand trailing along the banister.

The second floor was even dimmer than the first, with only thin slivers of light sneaking through the gaps in the boarded windows. I could make out several doorways leading off the main hallway.

“Which room do you think would work best for the ghost effect?” Sabrina asked, moving past me to peer into the first doorway.

I followed her, noting how the floorboards seemed more solid up here. “Probably whichever one faces the trail. That way people on the hayride can actually see it.”

We moved from room to room, testing the view from each window.

The third room offered a perfect sight line down to where the tractor would pause during the tours.

It was clearly the master bedroom, with a large window that would have provided the original occupants with a sweeping view of the farm below.

“This is it,” Sabrina said, moving toward the window. “This is perfect. We could set up the fan here, hang some gauzy fabric, and?—”

She stopped abruptly, and I nearly collided with her. We were standing in the doorway together, my chest pressed against her back, when she suddenly spun around to face me.

And that was it.

The last of my self-control gave way and my mouth crashed against hers.