CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Elaina—

The next afternoon, I'm sitting out on the deck, scrolling through social media, Rosie at my feet when Baja rolls up. He parks his bike, dismounts, and pulls his helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar, then trudges up the steps.

"You've been gone a while," I say.

He unsnaps his vest. "Sorry. Club business."

I nod.

"You hungry?" he asks.

It's almost six, and I haven't eaten. "Sure."

"There's a nice restaurant in town. I thought I'd take you."

I look at my jeans, caramel sweater, and matching suede boots. "How nice are we talking?"

"You look great. Let me grab a quick shower, change into a clean shirt, and we'll take the truck."

He wanders into the house, and I dash to the apartment to brush my hair, spritz some perfume on, and slip a large pair of gold hoops in my ears. I feed Rosie, walk her, and put her in the apartment. When I come out, Baja's waiting for me on the deck.

"You look beautiful," he says softly.

"Thank you."

"You ready?"

I nod, and we move down the stairs.

He holds the passenger door for me and helps me into the truck.

It's a short drive down to Main Street. By now it's dark, and the Fall Festival is all lit up two blocks down the street.

Baja gets lucky and grabs a spot as a car pulls out of a prime parking place.

"Wait there," he says and comes around to open my door for me. I'm getting used to the gentlemanly way he treats me.

We walk down the street about half a block, and he stops in front of a place that has a line out the door. I peer in through the window and see its all decked out with white tablecloths and candlelight. The dinner menu is posted in the window, and I scan it, noticing the high prices. At the same time, the aroma of grilled brats and roasted ears of corn wafts down the street from the festival. Music echoes from speakers. It's a lively German polka band, and it makes me smile.

A group ahead of us moves into the doorway, and the line shuffles forward.

"Did you make a reservation?" I ask.

"I did. Why?"

"I'm sure it's lovely, and the food would be delicious, but…" I bite my lip and stare down the street.

"But?"

"Would you mind if we did something else?"

"What would you like to do?"

"Go to the park and get some of that roasted corn I smell. And a brat."

His grin is huge. "Girl after my own heart. Let's go." He takes my hand, and we walk arm in arm down the sidewalk. It's crowded, and the laughter of children surrounds us. Just like he said, there are a hundred pumpkins all lit up under the huge trees, and they've strung tiny fairy lights in the branches above, making the entire place look enchanting.

"Oh, how pretty," I say. "It's magical."

We wait in line and get our food and a couple of beers, then find a bench near the pumpkins.

Baja lifts his red plastic cup for a toast. "To a really good idea."

I tap my plastic cup to his. "The best."

After a sip, I dig into my food, moaning around a mouthful. "Mmm. So good."

"I haven't been to this festival in years."

"Really? Why?"

He shrugs, but there's sadness in his eyes, and I think there must be something in his past he's not telling me. I want to ask, but I don't want to push him. I have to hope that when he's ready to share, he'll tell me. Instead, I change the subject.

"Want to know a secret? When I was a little girl, Halloween was my favorite holiday."

"More than Christmas?"

I nod. "I mean, Christmas is pretty great, but I loved the excitement of going around the neighborhood with all the other kids, all of us dressed up, and then of course there was the candy."

He laughs. "Of course. The candy."

"Did you love Halloween as a kid?"

He looks away. "My father hated Halloween. We were always the house on the block with the lights turned off—the one the kids didn't come to."

"How sad." I study him. "But you must have trick-or-treated?"

"My mother took us one year when my father was out of town on business. But Elliott ruined that by teasing me relentlessly about my costume, then he stole most of my candy."

My blood boils. "I'm really starting to hate your brother. It's hard to believe I once thought he was the one, and planned to spend the rest of my life with him. Now that sounds insane."

"It is insane."

I frown and stare at the flickering pumpkins and the twinkling lights. "I'm glad I came here."

"To the festival?"

I shake my head. "To Durango. With you."

He laces our fingers together, then kisses the back of my hand. "I am, too, Elaina. More than you know."

We finish our food, sip our beer, and people watch.

Baja chuckles.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

"I just saw that same lady a minute ago."

I glance up to see a woman about my age in a cute sweater, leggings, and boots.

Then he points to a completely different lady. "There she is again."

I give him a confused look.

Then he points to another lady across the way. "There she is again. Sweaters, leggings, and boots."

I look down at my own outfit. "Oh my God. She's sitting with you!"

He chuckles. "Why do you women all wear the same outfit in the fall?"

"Are you going to say I don't look cute in this outfit?"

His eyes turn molten as they travel over my body. I suddenly feel exposed to his gaze. My heart pounds with excitement, and I can't help the shiver that runs over my body.

Our eyes connect. His are dark with desire. My blood heats my cheeks, and I can't help but think about his hands roaming over my body.

"You definitely look fine as hell."

I tug my lip into my mouth, dragging my teeth across it.

His focus immediately drops to it.

The bell on a bicycle dings as a small girl rides past with her father, drawing us both out of our wanton thoughts. Jesus, Saturday I was standing at the altar with Elliott, and now I'm imagining his brother doing unthinkable things to my body.

I take a sip of my drink, trying to gain some control over my treacherous body.

Finally, Baja clears his throat. "So, you think you'll stay for the Halloween party? I know Lola said they had a girls day planned this week and wanted to include you."

"Evelyn sounded so determined that I be at the party, I kind of agreed without asking you. Maybe you didn't plan on having a house guest that long." I look nervously at my cup.

"I'd love for you to stay."

"Really?" I meet his gaze with a smile, lighting up on the inside.

"Really." He chuckles. "I hate those damn parties. Rock makes us go because his ol' lady loves them."

I take a sip from my cup and meet his eyes over the rim. "I hear you all have to dress up in costumes."

"God, yes. I always feel like an idiot. They play a lot of drinking games, though, and everyone gets shitfaced drunk. By then, nobody cares anymore that we all look like fools."

"What were you dressed as last year?" I can't imagine him doing something so silly.

"That hooded guy from Assassin's Creed."

My brow arcs. "Wow. You guys go all out."

"That's true. We don't mess around. Rock and Evelyn take this shit seriously."

"Who will you be dressed as this year?"

"Not sure. The girls were ordering me something. They usually handle the costumes, because face it, if left to our own devices, we'd screw it up."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep. Number one, we'd leave it to the last minute, and two, we'd show up in something stupid like the first year, Trez and I went as a ketchup bottle or a blow-up T-Rex. Needless to say, that was the last time we were allowed to pick our own costumes."

"Well, that takes some of the fun out of it, huh?"

He shrugs. "To tell the truth, last thing I want to do is try to find a damn costume. We just show up in what they tell us. It's easier that way."

"I see."

"I wonder what they'll put you in," he muses.

"They're going to pick my costume, too?"

"Probably. To tell the truth, I think Evelyn and Lola both have control issues."

"Thanks for the warning."

He huffs a laugh. "If I were you, I'd just go along with them. Besides, I'm sure whatever you wear, you'll be beautiful."

"Not if I'm dressed as a killer clown or Mrs. Potato Head."

"I'm sure they won't do that to you. At least, not if they like you. They did put a girl in a cow costume one year. I think they had it in for her."

I give him a sick smile. "Great."

"You're excited now, aren't you?" he teases.

"Yay," I say with fake enthusiasm.

His chest shakes with laughter. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. That girl had it coming. She'd come on to someone's ol' man."

I stare at the people walking past.

"Buck up. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"You sure? Seemed like a done deal. And besides, it could be fun."

His eyes sweep over me. "I cannot wait to see your costume." He stands and holds out his hand, pulling me to my feet. "Come on."

We throw our trash in a bin and walk hand in hand.

A cold wind blows over us, and I check the sky. "Looks like it might rain."

"Nah, it'll hold off. You like that pumpkin spice shit?"

"You mean like a latte?"

"Yeah, those."

"I do, actually."

He steers me toward a booth and orders one for me and a coffee for himself.

"Not into pumpkin spice?" I tease.

He makes a face. "That shit's gross. Pumpkin coffee? No thanks."

"Have you tried it?"

"Don't need to try it. It sounds disgusting."

I giggle and hold my cup toward his face. "Have some. Come on."

He jumps back like I'm holding a snake, and the next thing I know, I'm chasing him around with it until most of it is spills on the ground, and we're both laughing.

"That thing cost me almost ten bucks," he complains with a grin.

I toss the empty cup in a trash can. "Sorry. I owe you one."

"Come on, lady." He snags my hand and laces our fingers together, sipping on his own half full cup of coffee. "Hmm, good."

"Shut up!" I roll my eyes.

"You know what I bet you're dying for about now?"

"To punch you in the arm?"

"Nope. A pumpkin spice latte."