7. Sullivan

Chapter 7

Sullivan

The moment I hear the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway, my heart does this odd little flip. My nerves are bouncing up and down like a kid on a sugar high. Before I even realize it, I'm sprinting out the front door, eager to see her, to open the door like some starstruck gentleman from an old movie.

And there she is. Romi. She steps out of the car, and I swear everything else blurs away. She looks so effortlessly gorgeous that I momentarily forget the entire English language. Her hair catches the golden rays of the sunset, and her smile—man, that smile could light up a room full of zombies and make them forget they ever had an appetite for brains.

"Hey, sweetheart," I say, trying to keep my voice casual while grinning like a complete fool.

"Hi," she responds softly, with a spark in her eyes that makes me want to pull her into my arms immediately.

Unable to resist, I do just that. I gather her against me, feeling the warmth of her body as electric chemistry swirls around us. I tilt her chin gently and cover her lips with mine.

Time unravels, and it's just the two of us in this perfect slice of eternity. Her lips are soft and inviting, and I nibble a little on her juicy bottom lip before sliding my tongue into her mouth.

Her curves melt against me, and I groan as my cock turns rock-hard from the feel of her soft body pressing against mine. My hands slide slowly down her back to cup her luscious ass. I lose track of time and place, losing myself in her perfect embrace.

Finally, lack of oxygen causes us to come up for air, and I chuckle a bit once I'm able to catch my breath. "It's a good thing I don't have neighbors," I pant. "Otherwise, we might have given them quite a show."

She laughs, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Very lucky," she breathes out and reaches up to wipe her lipstick from the corner of my mouth. "This color doesn't work for you," she teases.

"I'll keep that in mind," I joke back, offering her my arm as I lead her inside, feeling the flutter of excitement for what's coming.

As we step into the dining room, I'm suddenly grateful for all the time and effort Sinclair wisely nudged me to invest. The candles flicker on the table, casting a warm, intimate glow that complements the rich aroma of spices.

"Holy cow…" Romi trails off, looking around, clearly impressed. "Your home is stunning."

"I'm glad you like it." I gesture for her to follow me into the kitchen. "Have a seat and I'll get you a glass of wine."

"Thank you." She sits on one of the barstools and watches as I grab two glasses and a bottle of wine. I pour us each a glass and hand hers to her.

"How was your day off?" I ask as I sip the wine Sinclair recommended.

"It was great, but it flew by." She watches as I reach into the refrigerator for the marinated steaks and fresh vegetables.

"Days off seem to do that," I mutter, grabbing everything I'll need to grill our steaks. "I'm going to start the grill. It's the perfect fall evening if you want to come out with me."

She follows me out onto the back patio and watches while I arrange the steak and vegetables on the hot grill.

She laughs, and even the sound is music to my ears. "Wow, your backyard is gorgeous, too."

"Thank you. I love to hang out back here to decompress. Everyone thinks my job is all fun and games, but it's actually stressful as hell," I admit, something I've never told my brothers.

"I can see that." I see the empathy shining in her blue eyes and realize she really does get it. "It must be so stressful to know people could be injured if you mess things up."

Fuck. It's like she goddamn read my mind. If she didn't already own my heart, she would've stolen it at that exact moment. I set an alarm on my phone so I don't turn our food into charcoal, and then I pull her into my arms and cover her lips with mine.

I lose myself as the taste of her flows through me. As I explore her sweet mouth, I forget about everything except my sweet little sassy treat. When the alarm goes off, I reluctantly step back and lay my forehead against hers. "Fucking hell, you're potent."

"So are you." She helps me bring the grilled steaks and vegetables inside. We talk about nothing important while we plate our food.

We settle into easy conversation over dinner. I tell her about my family—the unofficial Midnight royal family of the area, apparently. "My older brother, Sterling, runs the family corporation, Midnight Enterprises. He's got the business savvy and a slightly frightening ability to calculate profit margins in his sleep. Sinclair, my middle brother, is the town sheriff. I'd say he's the law incarnate, but he's actually just a big softy."

"So, do your brothers still treat you like you're a teenager who needs to be protected?"

"How did you know?" It's like she's back to reading my mind.

"I have an older sister who thinks I'm her responsibility even though I've been taking care of myself for years," she admits, and I realize we have way more in common than I'd originally thought. "Older siblings. You can't live with them and you'd look horrible in an orange jumpsuit if you murder them."

"I couldn't agree more." I laugh and pour us each another glass of wine.

"How did you get into haunted ride design?" Romi asks, her gaze steady and curious over the flickering candlelight.

"I always loved to tinker with stuff. Somehow, that led me to studying Mechanical Engineering. From there, I came home and took the head designer job at Midnight Industries and the rest is history."

"I can tell you love it." She leans close, and I barely resist the urge to pull her into my lap.

"There's something thrilling about sculpting the unknown and tapping into people's deepest fears, all the while ensuring they have the time of their lives. There's an art to it," I continue, "finding that fine line between thrilling and terrifying."

She nods as if she genuinely finds my world fascinating. "I can't wait to see one of your masterpieces."

"You've got a standing invite. I'll take you to Midnight Scares anytime you want," I assure her, pleased with the look of anticipation on her face.

"I can't wait! I freaking love haunted houses." She nearly vibrates with excitement, and I fall even deeper under her spell.

As we share the decadent chocolate torte for dessert, I decide it's time to get to know everything about her. "So, what brought you to Midnight Falls?" I ask, feeling the curiosity simmering in my questions.

"The job at Trick or Treat." She shrugs and takes another bite of the torte. "I needed a change of scenery, and I'd heard a ton of great things about Midnight Falls," she replies with a smile.

"And so you could get away from your overprotective sister?"

"That too." She chuckles. "When Tony offered me the job, I jumped at the chance to move here. It didn't go over well with Yvette, but she got over it." Romi gives me this knowing look, her lips curving into a wry grin. "Until she met my landlord. It took a ton of reassurance to get her to leave town after she met Viola."

"Viola?" Surely, she isn't talking about the crazy old lady who regularly terrorizes the town.

"I rent a small garage apartment at Viola Brinkley's house." She chuckles.

"I can't believe you live with old Mrs. Brinkley, the one and only town legend, notorious for her unusual ways." More than unusual. The elderly woman sits on her porch every day in an old floral nightgown with curlers in her hair and a cigarette hanging from her mouth. On Halloween, she gives out candy to the kids and small bottles of bourbon to the adults.

Romi shrugs. "I actually love it. She's a doll and her pet iguana, Herman, hangs out in the window surveying his domain."

"Ah, Midnight Falls' very own eccentric grandma," I muse. "You know she's convinced aliens landed in her garden last summer?"

"She might have told me that once or twice," Romi admits, laughing again. There's something infectious about the way her laughter fills the room, chasing away any shadows.

I lean back, marveling at how this evening is turning out even better than I dared to hope. It's not just the chemistry between us, which feels undeniable, or how easy our conversation flows. It's Romi herself. The way she seems to fit naturally amidst the folds of my life like she's been a part of it forever.

"You're fucking perfect," I tell her, sincerity threading through my words. "I'm glad you decided not to have me thrown out of Trick or Treat the night we met."

She meets my eyes, her gaze steady and warm. "It was touch and go for a few minutes," she teases. "But you grew on me—kinda like a fungus. I just couldn't resist you."