Page 18 of The Night Before Grumpmas
He gives me a flat look. “You mean terrifying. And unnecessary.” His gaze lands on the corner where a cluster of creepy dolls Mom sent me this past weekendare staring blankly into the room. His frown deepens. “What’s with the dolls? Are they supposed to be this . . . unsettling?”
I grin. “Exactly. They watch your every move. Creepy, right?”
“I don’t get it,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead. “Why do people enjoy this holiday? What’s fun about scaring people?”
“It’s not just about scaring people. It’s about embracing the weird, letting loose, being creative.” I shrug, plopping onto the couch next to the skeleton. “And it’s the one time of year you can be anything you want. What’s not to love?”
He scowls again, but something in his face softens, like maybe—just maybe—he’s starting to see a little sense in what I’m saying.
“I still don’t get it,” he mutters, though there’s less bite to it now.
“You don’t have to,” I say with a wave. “Just let me do my thing. As I was saying . . .” I eye him mischievously. “You’re going to love the haunted house I’m planning for the kids in the building. Fog machines, jump scares, creepy music. It’s going to be epic.”
Jacob takes a step back toward the door like he needs to escape before I suck him into my Halloween plans. “Not happening.”
“Oh, come on. You’d be perfect at scaring people. You’ve already got that whole ‘grumpy and intimidating’ thing going for you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I scare people?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Oh yeah, totally. Especially when you do that thing where you glare like you’re about to throw someone off a cliff with just your eyes.”
He almost smirks. Almost. “I’m not scaring anyone, Noelle. And I’m definitely not helping you turn this building into a haunted house.”
I sigh dramatically, pouting at him. “Fine. But I’m still doing it. So get ready, because on Halloween night, this place is going to be spooky central.”
Jacob shakes his head, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to shake off the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Over my dead body.”
I grin, leaning against the doorframe. “See? That’s the spirit.”
He looks at me for a moment, and something shifts in the air between us. The playful banter fades just slightly, replaced with . . . something else. His gaze lingers on my lips, just for a second, before he catches himself and looks away. My heart skips, and suddenly, I don’t know if I want to tease him or kiss him. Sometimes, it feels like he’s about to close the gap between us, and other times, I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just as confused as I am.
I blink, trying to read him, but he lets out a low snort, shaking his head like he’s brushing it all off. “Goodnight, Noelle,” he says, heading for the door. “Try to keep this Halloween thing to a minimum. I’m serious.”
“Goodnight, McCallister,” I call after him, still grinning as the door clicks shut behind him.
The second he’s gone, I turn back to the unfinished decorations, shaking off whatever that moment was. Haunted house it is. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll add an extra scare or two—just for Jacob. Because what’s Halloween without a little fun?
Chapter Ten
Jacob
“There really should bea law prohibiting the premature display of holiday decorations and the playing of ‘It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year’ before December first,” I tell Audrey, my sister, the moment I answer the phone. “A seasonal clause, if you will. Violators should face hefty fines, or better yet, a mandatory month of ‘Jingle Bells’ on loop in solitary confinement. It’s only fair—there’s a public interest in preserving our sanity.”
“Hello, Grumpy Brother. Have you officially become the Grinch now?” Audrey laughs on the other end. “You’re in rare form today. What happened? Just yesterday, you were whining about the holiday nut next door and the Halloween kit your neighbor left, and now you’ve graduated to hating all holidays?”
I could launch into a whole new rant about that Halloween kit, but truthfully, it saved me from an egging disaster when a mob of sugar-hungry kids was banging on my door like they were leading a revolution.
Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. But it sure as hell felt like it. I was in the middle of trying to close a major deal with the Phoenix Roadrunners—big deal, by the way—and the last thing I needed was a bunch of trick-or-treaters acting like their lives depended on it.
“She was already caroling and blasting holiday music at five in the fucking morning,” I complain, rubbing my temples like that’ll somehow erase the memory. “Halloween barely clocked out, and she’s already set up Christmas like some overeager elf on steroids. It’s like Halloween was Cinderella, and as soon as the clock struck midnight, she vanished—leaving behind her evil stepsister, Christmas Overload.”
Audrey snorts. “Christmas Overload. That’s dramatic, even for you.”
I groan. “It’s not dramatic, it’s my current reality. I woke up to fucking ‘Frosty the Snowman’ this morning, Aud. She’s trying to out-holiday everyone else in the entire city, maybe the world. And it’s just November first.”
What’s next? Santa’s workshop inmyliving room?
Ever since Noelle Holiday started house-sitting her grandmother’s house, I’ve tried to get the board on my side, and tune down her decoration craziness, but nope. The board never paid attention to my complaints about her careless decorations and intrusive music.
