Chapter Twelve
We were officiallyon duty for the night. Halloween meant we had to keep track of petty mischief, but Ordinary didn’t have a lot of serious crime on this night. I chalked it up to half the town being full of monsters or people with powers who could put a stop to mailboxes being knocked over and trees being T.P.’d prettyquick.
So while we each had to patrol some part of town, we each had at least part of the night off to do something funtoo.
And I wanted to do the HauntedHarbor.
Lucky for me, Hogan wanted to do it too. I agreed to meet him at eleven so we could cruise through all the haunted houses beforemidnight.
He was waiting for me in front of the first haunted house, a red rose in one hand and a gnome head in the other. Even the bushy white beard couldn’t hide how fine that man was. Couldn’t hide the look in his eyes when he saw mecoming.
“Hey there, beautiful,” he said as I made my way around a gaggle of ten-year-olds hyped up on so much sugar, I could practically taste it in the air aroundthem.
“Hey, yourself.” I stopped in front of him and smiled. “How’s your night going, GnomeDaddy?”
He snorted. “We’re gonna have to come up with a sexier name thanthat.”
“I’m not calling youmaster.”
“Not in that costume, you’renot.”
“Like it?” I held my arms out to the side and did a littlepose.
“You’re wearing a laundrybasket.”
“And wadded up socks. And some underwear.” I flicked at the clothing stuffed around me, and the hat I’d made out of a box of detergent. “Like Death said, Halloween is about being something peopledread.”
“You’re dirtylaundry?”
“Oh, yeah, baby. I’m all kinds ofdirty.”
He laughed and slipped the rose behind my ear. “Do you know what day it is?” He took my hand, pulled me close until my soft plastic basket buckled betweenus.
“Halloween?”
“Yes. Also, it’s our six-monthanniversary.”
“Oh,” I said. “It is.” I knew that. I’d been thinking about it for weeks. Was this a milestone for him? For us? And if it was a milestone, was it an important one, or just a littleone?
Maybe this was the point where we reassessed what we were doing, who we were together, what wewanted.
Maybe this was the point where we said good-bye.
“You know what I want to do to celebrate our first six months together?” He smiled, and shifted his hand so that it cupped my face, his thumb running gently across the curve of my bottomlip.
“What?” I asked, lost in hiseyes.
“To do it again. And again. Andagain.”
“That’s a lot of six months,Hogan.”
“It is, isn’t it? I’m liking the sound of that. How aboutyou?”
A year with him? Two years?Three?
“Yeah,” I said, a little too softly to be heard over the shrieks of fright around us. “Yes,” I said a little louder. “I’d like thattoo.”
I searched his eyes. And I thought I saw words unsaid in their warm blue depth. I thought I sawlove.
