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Grandma shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you, Robert Gallagher?”

Grandpa digs in for another piece of his pie. “Can’t do anything with me, Annie,” he touts. “Ya’s stuck with me.” The way he says the words aren’t harsh or menacing, but humorous and somehow, endearing.

Grandma smirks at me. “That’s the trouble with mates, Jax. You don’t pick them. They pick you.” She sighs, but it’s not an annoyed or angry by any means.

My grandparents have always antagonized one another with a little bit of sweetness to balance out the spice. Grandma always said it was a trick-or-treat kind of love. You never knew what you were going to get, but that was the fun of love. At least to her, I guess.

Grandpa chortles and curses, but the tension seems to have settled.

“Pfft. Apples don’t fall from the tree, do they?” he snarks. Grandma rolls her eyes.

“Even if you are a bitter old man, you’re still the apple of my eye,” she teases him, and I don't miss the genuine smile on his face.

Grandpa is the first to finish his pie, and he gets up immediately. He looks at me then at Mason.

“Now, if ya’ will excuse me, I got a lot of pumpkins to sell. It’s the biggest day of the year, and this farm ain’t gonna run itself,” he says as he shoots me a scathing look. I rise immediately.

“I can help,” I say, and Mason stands.

“Me, too,” he says. He clears his throat. “I mean, I might be in the market for a new job, if I can’t smooth over my no-call-no-show because I took a side trip to a pumpkin farm today.”

Grandpa curses in Irish, shaking his head.

“I supposed I could put ya’ to work,” he grumbles, and I can’t help the way my face lights up with excitement.

Grandpa settles his hand on Mason’s back.

His mouth doesn’t smile, but his eyes do.

“Alright, enough dilly-dallyin’, Jax. I don’t care if it’s ya’ birthday.

And none of this ‘I’m too old’ bullshit, ya got it? I need you loading up trucks, and—”

“Absolutely, Grandpa. Whatever you say.”

I watch as a contented smirk forms on his face. “Alright, Mason, now remember we’re not just selling pumpkins, we’re selling memories. Think you can handle that?” he gripes as he leads my mate out of the house, and I follow them without question.

It’s nearing six when the farm officially closes the registers. Every year on Halloween, we close an hour before trick or treating, so Grandma and Grandpa can get ready for the kids in the neighborhood.

I casually walk with Mason to his car, stealing little glances at him.

He did an awesome job with Grandpa today, considering between the two of them they sold out of what we had left.

I watched my boyfriend from the hayride wagon in the hot sun as Mason picked up pumpkins with that tight-fitting t-shirt and those jeans.

Yeah, it wasn’t a bad sight to ogle all day from the comfort of the truck.

“Hey, it’s your birthday. I thought maybe we could grab something to eat,” Mason suggests, reaching a hand behind his head. His amber eyes glitter like gold nuggets, his lips twisting into a nervous grin. “I mean, I’m not sure what my job situation is going to be like come tomorrow, but …”

I shake my head as we come to his car, neither of us making a move to enter it.

“Don’t worry about it. We can just …” I clear my throat, moving towards him slightly. I catch his wary gaze, reaching out to settle my hand on his hip. His golden gaze lights up with a glow that can only be described as pure magic.

Pure fate.

“We can just order some takeout, watch a horror movie and chill.”

Mason bites his lip, nodding as he lays his hand on my hip, his fingers brushing over the loops of my jeans.

I know there’s no one around, but we’re not out of sight, either. Anyone could see us if they were still working on the farm, like Grandma, Grandpa, or one of my many cousins.

But I don’t care if anyone does see us. Because Mason isn’t going to be some flash in the pan. He’s mine. And I don’t intend on hiding him away like an old Halloween costume by any means.

“Are you sure? I mean, if I’d known, I could’ve planned something,” he says, leaning into my space. His lips hover a fraction above mine, and I can feel his warm breath on my skin.

“What would you have done? Carried my little pumpkin ass to the nearest Olive Garden?”

Mason chuckles. “Maybe.”

I reach a hand up, sliding my fingers against his soft, silky hair. Mason leans into the touch as he utters, “I could have gotten you something.”

I look at him with the utmost certainty and truth, knowing he really is worth more than gold.

“You already did, baby,” I say, my voice a whisper. “You are my gift.”

I kiss him softly, and when he pulls away, his grin is the greatest gift of all.

“You just got home, I’d hate to pull you away,” he says, his fingers entwining themselves in my belt loops.

I smirk at him. “I’m thirty-one years old Mason. I can stay out past my bedtime. I promise.”

Mason sighs, relenting. “Fine. Take out and a movie, it is.”

I smile victoriously as he opens the passenger door for me.

When I settle into the seat and he closes the door, I feel a tad squished. Things felt so much different when I was a pumpkin, the last time I’d been in his car.

As soon as he gets in and turns the car on, I can’t help but smile.

“What?” he asks.

“The last time I was in this car, I was losing my mind,” I say, shaking my head.

Mason only chuckles. “You weren’t the only one.”

The entire ride back to Mason’s feels like the blink of an eye despite the pit stop to grab some candy for the trick or treaters.

We still make it back to his apartment by six thirty, just as the shenanigans commence.

We take turns sitting out on the porch, passing out candy while waiting for the Chinese takeout delivery.

Thankfully, trick or treating doesn’t take long in our small town, and the veil lifts with the last kid hitting the house at seven thirty just as our food arrives.

Once the lights are out, and our food has settled, Mason puts the popcorn in the microwave while I pull up my favorite Halloween movie to watch on my birthday.

Halloween , naturally.

While the popcorn pops, Mason comes to sit beside me, wrapping his arm around me.

I turn to take in the sight of him, grinning like an idiot.

“What?” he asks. “Do I have something on my face?” He runs his hand down his scruffy jaw, and my heart and my cock both twitch with anticipation.

God, he is so fucking hot. And he’s mine . All mine.

“Oh, nothing,” I say breathlessly.

Mason pulls me closer into his lap. “Doesn’t seem like nothing,” he teases.

I reach my hand out, my fingers tracing his facial hair and his perfectly structured jaw. “I was just thinking about the last time we tried to watch a movie. We didn’t get very far,” I say, my voice darker than I intend it to be.

“We must make it past the opening credits this time,” he says sternly.

I hear the opening score of Halloween, loud and dramatic against the beating of my heart. My insides warm like molten pumpkin from the heat of his stare, and my cock echoes the desire that can be felt between us.

“Right,” I say, clearing my throat as I shift myself onto his lap and straddle his hips.

Mason’s gaze darkens as he licks his lips, shaking his head.

“Jax …” he purrs.

“It is my birthday,” I say with a grin as I plant my lips on his neck, biting, sucking at his flesh like it’s my favorite dessert.

Mason moans, his head falling back against the couch cushion as his hardness throbs against my own. My jean-clad cocks aches to be released from its denim prison.

“You did say you wanted to get me something,” I tease as I slip my hand between us, popping the buttons on his jeans so I can slide my fingers inside his boxers.

His cock is warm, stiff, and one swipe of my thumb across his tip spreads the fresh precum that has already started to build.

“I did, didn’t I?” he says, his voice seductive and thrilling. Behind me, on the television, someone screams.

Mason wriggles out of his pants easily, despite being beneath me, and I’m not ashamed to say he gets my pants and underwear off in record time.

I lean in and kiss him as he tugs at my shirt.

The score heightens with murderous tension as we kiss and undress, thrusting against one another like two horny teenagers home alone on Halloween night.

Mason’s hands slide up and down my hips as he kisses me everywhere he can reach. My mouth, my jaw, my neck, my shoulder. I grind myself against his cock, and then he fucking flips me over like I’m nothing more than a pancake.

A surprised grunt escapes me as I slide beneath him, the cushions and the pillows moving to accept my body. I steal one glance at the television to see Michael Myers, but Mason’s hand on my jaw pulls me back to the here and now.

I look up into his fiery, glowing eyes, appreciating the sight.

“Trick or treat, baby. Tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

I grin as he lowers himself against me, his cock poised at my entrance just enough that I can feel his precum spreading against his head where he taunts me. There’s no denying I’m getting what I want, and he knows it. We both do.

I lean one hand behind my head as he stares down at me with an expression I don’t think I’ll ever tire of.

“What if I want both?” I say as I thrust my leaking cock against his rock hard abs. I should probably be embarrassed that, once again, I’m wetter than a monsoon with precum, but when I look at Mason’s hungry eyes, feeling his cock pulse against my hole, I forget embarrassment.

Mason breathes heavily, his golden gaze like fire. The smell of pumpkin spice permeates the air, and he licks his lips. The score hits that crescendo of intensity as I ease my leg in between his. The couch screeches from our movement.

“What if I want the sugar and the spice?”

Mason grabs my cock, slathering his hand in my pumpkin juice before slipping one finger in his mouth, moaning as he does so.

The rest of his hand is covered in me, and I swallow as he withdraws his finger from his mouth, instead focusing on inserting one finger into me, causing me to nearly levitate off the couch.

“Are you sure you want both?” he purrs. He kisses me as his tongue breaches my mouth. I can taste my sweetness on his tongue, and I groan in response.

I nod vehemently.

“Yes,” I say as he fits another finger inside of me.

I wriggle against him, my cock leaving wet trails along his abdomen as he works a third finger inside me, curling all of them, making me see stars.

Then he abruptly removes them all at once, making me shudder until I come, fast and hard.

I cry out, grinding my pulsing cock against him, spreading my cum along the already wet trails I’ve left along his stomach.

Mason breaches my hole with his cock easily, his thrusts sharp and deep as I continue to come like a fucking geyser.

“Happy birthday, pumpkin,” he whispers, before taking my mouth once more.

Despite the rough thrusts and my oversensitive cock, his kiss is surprisingly soft, and I lose myself in it. In him . My mate.

“I love you,” I say the words easily, looking up at him. He smirks as he stills, his warmth filling me from the inside out, literally. I can feel his cum spill out of me as he grins.

“I know,” he says smugly before kissing me once more. Somewhere on screen, someone is screaming and getting maimed. “I love you, too,” he whispers, kissing me once more.

And as I lose myself in my mate’s kiss, with him still buried deep inside me, I think this is only the beginning.