Chapter Two
It was only nine o’clock and the party would last for several more hours, but Cassie was already drunk. On sugar. She’d only had one glass of punch, but Jenna had set out a wide selection of candy on cut-glass serving trays, and Cassie was indulging herself as she waited for Johnny to show up.
“I’m surprised you brought out your nice dishes for this party,” she said to Jenna. Her friend was dressed as a witch.
Jenna shrugged. “I’ve had them for a year, and I hadn’t used them yet. Figured it was time.”
Jenna and her husband, Theo, had run off to Vegas together last fall, and despite the fact that they hadn’t had a “proper” wedding, her family had gotten them a ton of wedding presents.
Cassie plucked a sour candy from a dish. Although it was supposed to be sour, it still had enough sugar to add to her sugar high.
Whatever. It was Halloween. The whole purpose was to eat candy and wear costumes.
Darrell Summers walked up to them. He was wearing a toga. “Hey, Jenna. Great party.”
“Thanks,” Jenna said. “Where’s Biscuit? I thought you were going to bring your dog?”
“Nah. I thought about it, but this is too much excitement for her. Who knows what kind of trouble she would have caused? And did the ancient Greeks have dogs? I’m not sure it would have gone with my costume.”
“Togas were worn by the Romans,” Cassie said. “Not the Greeks.”
He laughed and held up his beer. “I’ll blame my mistake on the booze.”
Darrell’s toga was made out of a bedsheet and exposed one of his pecs. The guy had a great body. That was undeniable, even though Cassie had never had any interest in him. But she could totally understand why he was popular with the women in town.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” she said.
“You know Katherine Windham, the old lady who died last month? I offered to take her dog since her sons weren’t interested.”
“Didn’t she have a tiny white maltipoo that always wore a pink hair bow?”
“Yes. Biscuit is a very manly dog.”
Cassie laughed at the idea of Darrell, tall and muscled, owning a dog like that.
“I refuse to put a bow on her,” he said. “That’s too much for me. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with the name Biscuit, which I think is a terrible name for a dog.”
“Aw,” Jenna said. “It’s cute.”
“I tried calling her ‘Buster’ for a while, hoping it would be okay because it sounds similar. But she refused to answer to it. So Biscuit it is. She’s great, though. And not just because women go crazy over her.”
Well, Cassie doubted Darrell needed help with the ladies.
Rachel walked over, towing Cole behind her. “Good to see you,” she said to Darrell, giving him a quick hug.
“Cole looks much less pleased to see me,” Darrell said.
“He’s not happy to see anyone. I just dragged him out of the corner, where he’d been eating black licorice and scowling for the better part of an hour.”
“Too many damn people,” Cole muttered. “I just want to go back to my swamp.” He took off his ogre mask. “Am I doing a good job of staying in character?”
“Yeah, you’re doing great, sweetie,” Rachel said. “Not that this requires much acting for you. Plus there’s no law that says you need to act like your Halloween costume. Otherwise Cassie would be crawling around and gnawing on wood, which might be a problem. Wouldn’t want her to destroy all of Jenna’s furniture.”
Cassie chuckled and glanced around the living room. There were about twenty-five people at the party so far, and a crap-load of candy and booze. But the one person she wanted to see had yet to make an appearance.
“Still no sign of Johnny?” Rachel said. “Are you sure he’s coming?”
“He promised he’d be here.”
“Speak of the devil…” Jenna nodded toward the front door, and Cassie turned.
And there he was.
Her heart didn’t speed up when she saw him. In fact, she wrinkled her nose. Because Johnny was wearing a costume that was decidedly less sexy than a beaver. Or a devil.
He was dressed as Big Bird.
She couldn’t help but cringe.
Not that she had anything against big yellow birds. But when you had a crush on a guy, you kind of hoped he showed up to a Halloween party wearing something hot. A toga would have been preferable. Hell, even an ogre would have been better.
Rachel snickered. “We’ll leave you to it.”
Cassie stuffed another sour candy in her mouth and headed over to Johnny, wiggling her hips a little.
“You look great,” he said, smiling at her. “What are you—a mouse?”
She spun around to show him her tail.
“Ah. You’re a beaver. Yes.”
They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, and her mind wandered back to the quasi-date they’d had at Tim Hortons. It had been pleasant, but there’d been a few uncomfortable silences then, too.
And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she remembered the day she’d met Blaine at Tim Hortons, the way he’d—
Focus, Cassie. You’re over Blaine.
Perhaps she hadn’t had enough to drink.
“Us beavers really like our punch,” she said. “It’s very…punchy. Want to get some with me? It’s in the kitchen.”
“Absolutely.” Johnny placed his hand on her lower back, just above her tail, and guided her toward the kitchen.
“Did you have trouble finding the place?”
“Um, no.”
Of course not. That was an idiotic question. Georgeville was so small, it was impossible to get lost. And Johnny had lived here his whole life. What was wrong with her today?
He was touching her, though. That was good, wasn’t it?
There was a crowd of people jostling around the punch bowl, and she and Johnny were pushed closer together. The length of his body pressed against hers. She didn’t feel anything, but that was okay. It might just take time to get that spark. And given all the padding in the Big Bird costume, it wasn’t surprising that she felt nothing. Right?
Or maybe you don’t belong together…
She pushed aside the irritating voice in her head. Johnny was the guy she wanted. He was nice and steady, and he wasn’t the sort who would leave her after a week.
He handed her a cup of punch before pouring one for himself. Then he took her hand and led her to the side of the refrigerator.
“How was the hardware store today?” she asked. “Sell any toilet plungers?”
He smiled at her. “Not today. But I did sell several wrenches.”
He continued to talk about wrenches for five minutes, which she couldn’t say she found terribly interesting. So she took the time to discreetly—or perhaps not so discreetly—pull down her shirt to show off her cleavage, then placed her hand on his shoulder. There was no heat emanating through the bright yellow feathers of his costume.
Then she realized he’d stopped talking. Crap. Had he asked her a question? Did he expect her to say something intelligent about wrenches or hammers?
Well, now seemed as good a time as any for a first kiss. She pushed up the beak on his Big Bird costume, leaned forward, and brushed her lips over his.
As soon as his lips met hers, it felt all wrong.
But she kept kissing him anyway.
This was the guy she wanted.
Really, he was.
…
Blaine knocked on the door. A witch and a flapper girl answered. Behind them, two ghosts walked by with red Solo cups, and Minnie Mouse danced with a man in a bedsheet toga. The bass was pumping, and the lights were turned down low.
It reminded him of the parties he’d gone to back in university.
“Who are you?” asked the witch. “You weren’t invited.”
“No.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I…um…I’m looking for Cassie. Is she here?”
“What’s your name?”
“Blaine.”
The witch and the flapper girl exchanged a look. Not a nice one.
Uh-oh.
“Blaine.” The flapper girl looked him up and down. “I thought you lived on the other side of the country.”
Yes, that’s what he’d told Cassie. He’d said he was just in the area for a few weeks, that he lived across the country, and nothing lasting could happen between them.
These must be her friends.
“It’s complicated,” he said. “Could I please just talk to her?”
The flapper girl shook her head. “We know exactly what you did to her.”
But the witch reluctantly nodded. “You were an ass. But Cassie should decide what she wants to do with you. Not us.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said the flapper girl, not sounding too happy about it. “We’ll let you in, but if she wants you out, you’re gone.”
“Thank you.” He stepped inside, but she blocked his path.
“It’s a Halloween party. You need to wear a costume.”
This was a complication he hadn’t expected. Was there anything in his car he could use? He had a hard hat, a safety vest, and steel-toed boots. It wouldn’t really feel like a costume, given he had to wear such things on site for work sometimes, but he could say he was a construction worker.
“You know who he looks like?” said the witch to the flapper girl. “That guy who plays Sherlock Holmes. What’s his name?”
“Benedict Cumberbatch,” supplied the flapper girl. “You think so? I don’t see it.”
“Theo has a winter hat that sort of looks like the Sherlock Holmes hat, and we should have a magnifying glass around here somewhere. What do you think, Blaine? Sherlock Holmes? You good at solving mysteries?”
“Look,” he said. “I just want to see Cassie.”
“And we’ll let you,” said the witch. “Once you’re in costume.”
“I’ll go out to my car and come back dressed as a construction worker.”
“No. Too boring.”
“I dunno,” said the flapper girl. “Construction workers are kind of hot, don’t you think? But I see what you’re saying. It’s not the most exciting costume.”
He curled his hands into fists. He didn’t have time for this nonsense, but he didn’t want to piss off Cassie’s friends any more than he already had.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” He started to turn, but the witch put a hand on his arm.
“I have a better idea than Sherlock Holmes. Just wait here.” She scurried up the stairs.
He stayed in the front hall, unsure what to say to the flapper girl. He didn’t have much experience with social situations like this one.
“What did you say?” asked the flapper girl.
“I wasn’t…”
Oh, crap. She was right. He’d been muttering the geologic time periods under his breath again. But he didn’t want to admit that.
“If you hurt her again, I’ll set my ogre on you,” she said. “Trust me, you don’t want to mess with him.”
“I won’t hurt her. I screwed up last time. I know I was an ass.”
“At least you’re willing to admit it.”
The witch bounded down the stairs and handed him a mask and a navy cape. The mask was black, with a very long and pointy nose.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Theo’s aunt bought it in Italy and gave it to him for his birthday, for reasons that are not clear to me. But I think it works perfectly for a villain. That’s what you’ll be dressed as. A villain.”
“Okay…” Was it too late to say he’d prefer Sherlock Holmes?
He put on the cape and tied the mask behind his head.
“Do you think we should make him a cardboard sword?” the witch asked the flapper girl. “A villain should have a weapon of some sort, don’t you think?”
He’d had enough of this. He pushed his way past the two women and stalked around the main floor looking for Cassie. She wasn’t in the living room, although he found a cowboy making out with a tiger on top of the coffee table.
He turned away and moved to the dining room, where he found lots of candy and a cooler full of beer.
But still no Cassie.
So he went into the kitchen, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw her pressed against the refrigerator, a large yellow bird dipping its head and kissing her.
No.
This couldn’t be happening.
But it had been more than a year. It shouldn’t be surprising she’d found a boyfriend in that time.
However, as he looked at Cassie and Big Bird making out against the refrigerator, he had a feeling this wasn’t her boyfriend. The kiss looked decidedly awkward. The guy was all wrong for her. That much was obvious.
So Blaine pushed Big Bird out of the way and took his place.