“I think I could hear that a thousand times and not ever get tired of it.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to say it a thousand more.”
“Not if I get there first.”
It was his turn to kiss her then.
So long and deep that even Chad looked a little weak at the knees at the sight.
“Come on, I got a surprise for you. Over in that spooky abandoned barn over there.”
He waved in its general direction, but she couldn’t see anything. Which was probably for the best.
“You have a surprise for me. In an abandoned barn. That is spooky.”
“Do you really have to say it like I did something crazy?”
“Well, considering I last heard that line in a film calledTheEyeballEater…”
“Nobody is going to eat your eyeballs, I promise.”
She loved that he crossed his fingers, then clumsily and obviously hid them. As though he was playing on the perception of him as a big oaf, just for her. He was secure enough with her to seem like a fool.
He knew she would laugh with him—and she did.
“You say that, yet used suspicious powers to predict I would be here.”
“I didn’t use psychic powers. Lydia told Brad and Brad told Chad and Chad told me.”
“I can’t believe I know two people whose names end inad. Or that you value their information.”
“Hey, I value it because their information is solid. Look, here you are, coming with me to the place where they found a ton of cats with no eyes.”
She glanced down at her feet, and sure enough, they were walking in his direction, as he sauntered backward in the direction of the place.
“Ah, so the owner of the death barn practiced his evil trade on animals first.”
“They always do. They always, always do,” Tate said.
“You’re ridiculous. But I like it enough to tell Lydia I’ll see her later, and then join you in the probable nightmare barn,” she said as she turned to do just that. Though not before she saw him grin wildly.
Then pump his fist, like a kid who’d just won the world.
Chapter 19
He was wrong about the place. It was dark and hollowed out, but not exactly spooky. Or at least she thought so until she stood inside, listening to the wind rattle the possible skeletons hiding in every shadowy corner. She even thought she saw something very skeletonlike, over by the tarpaulin-covered monster that lurked beneath the loft.
It turned out to be just rusted tools.
That looked like they were covered in blood.
“Tate, come on. You know I’m afraid of being murdered by the scythe-wielding ghost of a disgruntled farmer. Even though I wasn’t until I saw something that looks very scythelike standing in the corner.”
There was no reply—unless you counted the now-howling wind.
So she just kept talking. Loudly, so as to ward off evil.
“I mean, seriously, how old is this place that there is a scythe here? Was it abandoned in 1763? I feel like it can’t have been, considering the amount of corrugated steel. Which probably just leaves me with option three: the barn murderer is really into disemboweling people with old farm tools.”
