He slips his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. A zip of heat swirls around my marked arm. From the contact? Or my reaction to his protective display?
“She’s getting to know the town,” Declan says, almost in warning.
Carol nods, then gives me a sly smile. I can’t figure this lady out. “That’s good. Enjoy the energy of the festival-prep before things get too chaotic.”
I glance around at the different vendors helping each other set up displays and admiring items. “It seems more cozy than chaotic.”
“That’ll change,” Carol scoffs.
She scoops an obscene amount of kettle corn into a red paper bag dotted with black skulls and holly leaves, then hands it to me. “This is on the house. Hopefully, when you make our spooky little town famous, you’ll mention the best kettle corn on the East Coast.”
“Wow. Thank you.” The bag warms my hands. I pop a few pieces in my mouth, savoring the crisp salty sweetness. “You’re right,” I mumble around the mouthful. “So good.”
“You’re sticking around to watch Declan give the firstSlayride tour of the festival Friday night, right?” Carol asks.
I cast a sly glance at Declan. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good.” Carol nods. “Have fun checking out the rest of the vendors. It’ll be your best chance to see everything before we’re packed for the weekend.”
“Thanks.” I hold up the bag of corn. “And thank you for this.”
She winks and turns to help a customer.
We move onto the sidewalk. Declan reaches into my bag, stealing a handful of popcorn. I squeal with fake outrage and playfully smack his arm.
“How dare you,” I tease, grabbing the bag and dramatically shielding it against my chest.
Declan’s mouth curves into that slow, sinful half smile that turns my knees to jelly. “But that’s a sharing size.”
“What all thieves say.”
My arm tingles again. I shift the bag of popcorn into my other hand and rub the spot though my sleeve, trying to alleviate the strange sensation without calling attention to it.
“Hey.” Declan’s gaze drops to my arm, then back to my face. “You cold?”
“Not exactly.”
He studies me for a few beats, then steers me toward a stall with a garish black, green, and red sign:Krampus Koffee & Cursed Cocoa.
A barista wearing black lipstick and a sweatshirt with ghosts in Santa hats carrying stacks of books leans over the counter and flashes a warm smile. “What deviance can I talk you sinners into tonight?” she asks with a velvety voice and dramatic flourish of one hand.
Declan glances at me and lifts an eyebrow.
“Uh, I have to go with the cursed cocoa,” I say.
“Excellent choice.” She nods to Declan. “How about you, Deck?”
“I’ll have the same.”
“Coming right up.” She grins and prepares our drinks.
“It doesn’t have peppermint in it, does it?” I whisper to Declan. I should’ve asked before ordering.
“Nope. Just lots of chocolate and ghost-shaped marshmallows.”
“Perfect.” I turn and stare at the townspeople and decorations. “For a town that pretends the curse doesn’t exist, you sure draw a lot of attention to the sinister side of things.”
“Sinister side.” His lips twitch. “That sounds like a good name for another YouTube channel.”
