Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
I paused at the foyer mirror, adjusting my witch hat while taking in the added bonus of seeing Noah in the reflection, typing at Gran’s desk behind me. Lord, that man even made writing look sexy. His shirtsleeves were pushed up his forearms, and his brow was furrowed in concentration as his fingers flew over his keyboard.
“Georgia?” Helen prompted.
“It’s coming.” Which was more than I could say for me, since I’d dutifully kept my hands off the writer-in-residence. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about that almost-kiss or contemplate climbing into his lap for a do-over so I could follow through with at least one of the daydreams I’d had about his mouth on mine. The doorbell rang for the millionth time that evening. “Gotta run, Helen; it’s a madhouse around here tonight.”
“Happy Halloween!”
We hung up, and I opened the front door, offering the kids a wide smile. Halloween was the best. For one night, you could be whomever you wanted—whatever you wanted. Witches, Ghostbusters, princesses, astronauts, the Black Knight from Monty Python, nothing was off the table.
“Trick or treat!” two kids said in unison, their parents bundled up behind them. Halloween snowstorms happened in Poplar Grove more often than not.
“What do we have here?” I asked, dropping to their eye level. “A firefighter and a…” Oh God help me, I was clueless. What was that costume?
“Raven!” the boy answered enthusiastically, muffled a bit by the scarf awkwardly wedged into his costume.
“Right!” I plunked a full-size Snickers bar into each bag.
“Whoa, nice Fortnite skin!” Noah said behind me, his voice alone sending a thrill down my spine. Of course he knew.
“Thanks!” The boy waved.
“Thank you!” his sister added.
The two raced back to their parents and started the walk down the drive, leaving footprints in the fresh inch of fallen snow.
“I didn’t think you’d get so many trick-or-treaters, since you’re so far out of town.” Noah moved back so I could close the door.
“Gran always gave out full-size bars. Earned her quite the crowd.” I put the candy on the table and turned to face him. “How’s it going in there?”
“Finished for the day.” He tilted the brim of my hat upward, drawing my eyes to meet his. “How about you? Feel like a badass after closing on the studio today? Because you are.”
“Maybe a little.” I couldn’t help but smile. It was really happening. “Plus, I got both furnaces and the annealing oven ordered. Which ending are you working on?” I asked, willing my body not to heat, my cheeks not to flush. Not that it mattered—the look in those deep brown eyes told me Noah Morelli was more than aware of the effect he had on me. I recognized the same need in him, from the scalding hot gazes to the innocent touches that only lasted long enough to singe my skin and leave me craving more.
“Mine,” he answered with a shameless grin.
“Hmmm.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll write your sobfest next.”
“Poignant,” I reminded him.
“Whatever you want to call it. I’ll win you over in the end.” Oh yeah, that was a definite smirk.
“We’ll see.” After all these weeks, it was still my go-to answer, even though I was more certain than ever about the ending I’d pushed for. And as for him winning me over in real life? Okay, he had me there.
He glanced around the entry, then stepped into the sitting room.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“It just occurred to me. I’ve never seen the phonograph.”
“You wouldn’t,” I said with a shrug. “Gran said it broke or something back in the late fifties.”
“That’s too bad.” Disappointment flickered over his features. The doorbell rang again, and he took the candy bowl with a soft smile. “I’ve got this one.”
Watching Noah hand out candy to another group of kids turned my insides to mush. Call it biology, or the result of hundreds of thousands of years of evolution, but being good with kids was…well, hot.
“Want me out of your hair?” he asked after he closed the door. There was no expectation in the question, which only made it that much more enticing. He was an audacious flirt, but never pushed for more, even after I’d almost kissed him in the office.
You should have kissed him in the office, you masochist. Look at him.
“Not at all.” That was the problem. It didn’t matter how much time I spent with Noah, I always wanted more. “Why don’t you stick around?”
“Happy to.” His voice lowered.
I nodded and yanked my gaze from his before he saw too much.
…
It was half past eight before the last trick-or-treaters had come and gone.
“There won’t be any more,” I said as the grandfather clock chimed.
“You can see the future?” Noah asked with a faint smile.
“I wish.” I scoffed. If I could have seen the future, I would have known what the hell I was doing. As it was, I had no clue.