It turned out the adjustment wasn’t that hard, and I got dragged into a series of rearrangements with Adrian to perfect the display. He cracked stupid jokes, plied me with loaded looks that lingered longer than necessary, and the rest of the store felt suspended around us. The kids’ laughter and talking were still there, but he was front and center of it. His presence folded into mine in a way that made the ordinary act of stacking pumpkins feel unusually private. Sensual, even.
“You see it, right?” He finally stepped back, happy to quit picking at the imperfections. “The magic. The thing that’ll make people stop and stare.”
My fingers curled around the fake lamppost, just beneath his. We weren’t touching, but it was like sparks of tension coiled in the miniscule space, begging for it.
“Yeah, I see it,” I said, trying not to sound too flustered.
He ran a hand through his unruly hair and smiled. “Good.”
“I was wondering where you got to, Maren.” Miles sauntered over, eyes narrowed but with a smile on his face. “You two look cozy.”
“Just helping him perfect the haunted house.” I couldn’t look right at him, which made his knowing laugh all the more cutting.
“Sure, sure. Just helping.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway. There was something infectious about them that made me less prone to my usual rigid thinking. Made me consider another option: This may not have been part of my plan, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun while I was here.
“Okay,” Adrian called, clapping his hands to gather everyone. “I want your honest opinions. Is this the most jaw-dropping display we’ve done or what?”
The assistants exchanged hesitant glances, but one by one, they nodded. The manager finally conceded, shaking her head with a reluctant laugh. “Alright, fine. It’s… incredible. You were right.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, big guy.” Adrian put his arm around Will’s shoulders. The kid’s smile was subtle, but couldn’t hide the glow of pride he wore.
Ethan brushed a speck of glitter from my cheek, and I stilled, unveiling celebration forgotten. “Thanks for bringing the kids around today. It was good for all of us.”
His gaze disarmed me. “I think their favorite part was getting to boss you guys around for a change.”
“I think you’re right,” he laughed.
The store felt like it was alive, buzzing with lights, color, and movement. And I allowed myself to enjoy it. Not because I had anything figured out, but because it was plain old fun. Because the kids were laughing, and because right now, that was all I needed.
And the thrill of the men’s attention wasn’t exactly unwelcome, either.
By the time we got home, the excitement from the mall had worn into a comfortable buzz. Dinner was a casual affair of pizza boxes on the counter, Sadie chatting a mile a minute about the little details she’d noticed in the displays, Emma silently picking at her slice while occasionally glancing at the clock, and Will… well, Will had managed a few slices of conversation, which was progress.
Ethan cleared the last plate. “All right, man,” he said, turning to Will. “You can have your Nintendo back.”
I expected him to dart out of the kitchen and run upstairs to get it, but he shuffled in the doorway for a pause, then said, “Actually… I know it’s a school night and all, but could we maybe watch a movie together? All of us, I mean.”
Everyone went quiet and I have to admit, I nearly choked on my last bite of pizza. But Ethan played it like a pro.
His face softened, and he ruffled Will’s hair. “Sure, man. Sounds good to me.”
8
Maren
The kids were finally tucked in. Well, mostly. Emma had put up a good fight, insisting she wasn’t tired and that she needed water, a story, a stuffed animal, three extra blankets, and some kind of elaborate ritual that may have involved chanting. By the time she finally surrendered, I was out of patience but somehow still smiling.
I tiptoed down the stairs to the living room, where the soft glow of the lamps and the low hum of jazz from the sound system made the space feel warmer than usual. Ethan was stretched out on the couch, half-hidden under a throw, while Miles and Adrian had claimed the other chairs. Miles nursed a beer and Adrian clutched a mug of hot chocolate in both hands.
“Finally,” Ethan said, raising his eyebrows. “You survived bedtime without anyone spontaneously combusting?”
I plopped onto the couch beside him, stretching my legs. “Barely. I think I need a stiff drink.”
Miles grinned. “Are you a beer or wine kind of woman?”
“Don’t bother with a bottle if you’re not going to help me.”
