Page 91 of Sweet Caroline
Not knowing where to look for Caroline, I pull out my phone. My background photo—Lumpy, akaLumpkin, thanks to his new pumpkin costume—has me smirking as I send her a text.
Me
I’m here. This place is wild. Where are you?
She doesn’t text back right away, so I pocket my phone and wander between the big marquee tents, one of which covers aroped-off, snaking lineup for the small train ride. A live band plays a cover of Monster Mash for a burbling crowd of kids, their parents seated on bales of hay around a dance floor of sorts.
People stream around me in all directions, most wearing costumes, some carrying pumpkins. Twin girls walk past hand in hand, dressed up like the ones fromThe Shiningand playing the part a little too well. They’re creepy as fuck. Just to be safe, I give them a wide berth.
Caroline wouldn’t reveal what her Halloween costume was, saying she wanted it to be a surprise, so I have no idea what I should be searching for as I scan the crowd. I’d decided to dress up as a lumberjack, though I basically look like my brother on your average Tuesday. He’d reluctantly let me raid his closet, which was probably ninety percent plaid flannel. He’d even dug out a pair of suspenders for me. Olena’s delight had been borderline unhinged, especially when she’d had a light-bulb moment and practically sprinted to get a squeaky toy of Murphy’s—one in the shape of an axe—to hang from my belt loop. I absentmindedly give it a squeeze and smile to myself when it squeaks.
My phone pings in my pocket as I make my way past the entrance to the corn maze.
Caroline
Turn around, handsome…
I stop in my tracks and straighten, craning my neck before I spin around fully, my heartbeat pounding in my chest just knowing she can see me. I almost miss my back pocket with my phone when I spot her, and my hard exhale forms a cloud in front of me in the cold night air.
Little Red Riding Hood.
Caroline’s blonde curls peek out from under a bright red, warm-looking cloak that flows almost to her ankles, the hooded cape covering an old-fashioned, lacy white dress under a marooncorset top and…fuck, I don’t know what else because she’s walking toward me and melting my brain more and more with every step. She shifts a small wicker basket from one hand to the other, grinning as she slips her phone into some hidden pocket in the billowy fabric.
I don’t even consciously reach for her, but I find my hands on her waist somehow, sliding under the warmth of her cloak as she lifts to press a gentle kiss to my cheek.
Damn, she smells so good. Like cookies, but classy somehow?
All I know is I’m already hungry for more.
“Hi,” she whispers, wiping my cheek with her thumb.
“Fuck,” is all I can say in response, not giving two shits if I have red lipstick on my face. “I mean, hi.”
She laughs, dropping back onto the heels of her brown ankle boots. “You look great.” She steps back slightly to give me a lingering once-over, tugging at my plaid flannel jacket. “People are gonna think we planned this.”
“Huh?”
She gestures between us. “Little Red Riding Hood and the Woodcutter?”
“Oh! Yeah. Gotcha…” I blow out a long breath, and she grins. “You’re enjoying making me malfunction again, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I haven’t evenstartedto make you malfunction yet.” She lifts a coy brow.
“What do you mean?”
I’m in. Whatever she wants to do, the answer is yes.
She leans in close. “You should see what’s underneath this.”
Oh, fuck me sideways.
My dick presses against the fly of my jeans, already convinced it’s go time.
Taking my hand, she pulls away, leading me through the crowd.
Reminding myself this is a family place, I will myself to get ittogether. I’m definitelynotscanning the area for spots I could take Caroline to be alone. Definitelynotconsidering how the loud music and the crowd noise would drown out any sounds.
Nope, not this guy. Family. Place.
