Page 11 of Emerald Treats
I rolled my eyes. At least I wasn't the only one suffering through this costume nonsense.
"They aren't the only big thing I have, you know," I replied, lifting my brow.
His eyes darkened as he stepped toward me. "Oh, really? Maybe you could show me?"
My dick twitched at the thought of that, and I had no doubt I'd do just that, but later.
"Really, pet. You're insatiable. I was talking about this," I proclaimed as I spun to the side and had to fight to be able to turn in the hallway.
"Holy shit! That's a serious tail!"
I didn't bother looking back or responding to Fischer's comments about my tail as I stomped towards the front of the store. The ridiculous costume made each step a challenge, the oversized claws on my feet catching on the floor and threateningto trip me up. I grumbled under my breath, cursing Faris and his twisted sense of humor.
As I pushed through the front door, I was greeted by a chorus of gasps, followed quickly by poorly suppressed laughter. I glared at the group gathered outside, daring them to say a word. Saige stood at the center, her green eyes dancing with mirth as she took in my appearance.
"Oh, Sloane," she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "You look... magnificent."
I growled low in my throat, which only seemed to amuse her more. "Laugh it up, Red. Just remember, payback's a bitch."
Faris appeared beside her, his eyes wide with childlike glee. "You wore it!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "It's perfect! The spikes, the wings, the claws, the tail!"
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm a fucking dragon. Happy now?"
"Ecstatic," Faris grinned, reaching out to touch one of the costume's spikes. I swatted his hand away, which only made him pout and try it again. I grumbled as I let him feel the damn things, knowing damn well he'd never rest until he'd gotten the chance.
Just then, Fischer emerged from the store, his salmon costume drawing fresh peals of laughter from the group. I couldn't help but smirk, glad that some of the attention was diverted from me.
"Well, don't we make quite the pair," Fischer drawled, sidling up next to me. "The fearsome dragon and his... pet fish."
Saige approached us, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, come on, you two. You both look adorable."
I scowled at her use of the word 'adorable', but my expression softened as she reached up to adjust my headpiece. Her touch, as always, had a calming effect on me.
"The things I do for you, kitten," I murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
She smiled up at me, a mix of affection and gratitude in her eyes. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against mine for a long moment before pulling back and staring deep into my soul. "I know, and I appreciate it more than you know."
I sighed, resigning myself to the night ahead. One thing was very certain: I was getting soft.
Despite my grumbling about the ridiculous costume, I found myself settling into the evening as we set up our candy station in front of The Pig. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the distant smell of wood smoke. Jack-o'-lanterns flickered along the walkway, casting dancing shadows across the yard.
The first wave of trick-or-treaters had just begun to trickle in when I spotted Bette making her way up the path, pushing the double stroller with our girls. My heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did when I saw them, even though I'd never admit it out loud.
"Look who's here!" Saige called out, practically bouncing on her toes as she rushed down to greet Bette and Randy Roger.
"Evening, lovers," Bette said as I took in her and Randy Roger's costumes with my mouth wide open.
Bette had transformed into what could only be described as a green witch on steroids. Her flowing dress cascaded in rich greens and earth tones, adorned with an explosion of faux flowers, trailing vines, and—Christ—oversized plastic mushrooms that bobbed with every step. Her pointed witch's hat looked like it had been attacked by an entire garden center, decorated with leaves and various plant elements that looked ridiculous.
But it was Randy Roger who nearly made my eyes pop out. The little bastard had gone full garden gnome, complete with brighthot pink booty-short overalls and knee-high socks. A matching pink gnome hat sat atop his head with an enormous fake white beard that was so fluffy it looked like he'd stolen it from Santa's workshop. Across his chest, a sash proclaimed "Gnome-osexual!" in glittery letters.
And then there were the vegetables. Dear fuck, the vegetables. Randy Roger clutched what appeared to be a plush, oversized eggplant. In his other hand was a basket that overflowed with mushrooms and any type of phallic-shaped vegetable you could think of. The man couldn't help but be his flamboyantly inappropriate self.
"You two look..." I started, then shook my head, unable to find words.
"Fabulous? Yes, we know. Thank you," Bette said with a wicked grin. "Randy Roger insisted on the eggplant. Something about 'staying in character.'"
I snorted, despite myself. "Of course he did."
