EIGHTEEN
KELLY
Despite stuffing the bag containing the costume in my walk-in closet when I got home the day before yesterday, I'm dying to have another peek. I want to see if I hadn't imagined how good it looked at the costume shop.
All too often I'd buy something and then, on arriving home, I'd find I no longer liked it. So many returns over the years. So many unworn outfits hanging at the back of the closet, their price tags still in place.
After peeling away the many layers of tape, I drag the costume from the bag and shake it out. I then lay it on the bed, the stretchy, thigh-high silver boots laying on the floor next to it.
I've never loved an outfit as much as I love this one.
Even better is when, after I try it on again, it once more passes the test. With proper make-up and liberal body shimmer it will be amazing. At least I hope so.
However, I won't know until the morning of the parade if it's enough to have Zac losing control again. Enough to make him say to me what I long to say to him.
The time will soon be right. I can feel it. Just as I feel Zac's attraction to me when we're working on the float down at the lock-up. It's there, in the way he looks at me when he thinks I'm busy.
My feelings for him have intensified as I've gotten to know the man beneath the mask. His explanations and aid are now friendly rather than seductive.
I doubt I'm alone in marveling at how things have changed between us, although I haven't lost my mind altogether. Given a moment's provocation, I'd still jump his bones.
However, some things are more important than a moment's satisfaction.
I'm up super early on the day of the parade. Not to continue working on the float, but working on myself. I want my skin to gleam and me looking as sexy in my real costume as Zac is in his.
I'm not giving anything away too soon though, and after checking everything for the umpteenth time, I then pull the second costume I'd hired over the top.
If you're going to surprise someone, then it has to be a big surprise, a spectacular surprise. A surprise that takes their breath away.
On the drive over to the lock-up garage, I'm nervous. My surprise will either go incredibly, or fail epically. Much as I want to hurry, I can't. The streets are already busy with people making their way to the parade route. The atmosphere is vibrant, the excitement contagious.
As I drive in the gates of the storage center, I see Zac is already there, hitching the float to his truck. He looks up, and after a moment's surprise, breaks into an evil grin.
It tells me he expected me to chicken out on riding the rocket with him. Hah, it's as if he doesn't know me at all.
After parking off to one side, I take a couple of calming breaths before I get out and lock the car. I've never been this nervous before, not even when making big presentations in my old job.
A final check of the Velcro tabs that secure the front of my fake outfit, and I'm as ready as I'll ever be. As I walk around the corner, the fabric of the hidden outfit rustles against my skin, adding to the thrill of what's coming.
"Morning, Kelly." While Zac's voice is full of warmth, there's no missing his disappointment when he gets an eyeful of my costume.
And to be honest, I can't blame him. I do rather resemble a baked potato. No doubt because that's what the Halloween costume is. He can't complain though, because it's silver as he'd asked for.
"Morning." I do my best to sound casual despite the butterflies that are busy doing somersaults in my tummy. They don't calm as we check everything on the float.
Zac's technical skills shine through as he double-checks every bolt and tie-down is tight. I can't help but admire his dedication and attention to detail, especially when checking the rocket.
We're riding that thing through the streets of Coogan's Break. The last thing either of us wants is a catastrophic failure that will see the rocket launching itself off the float for real.
We're working side-by-side, when I catch of flash of bright neon green out the corner of my eye. Hard to believe that in my nerves over my costume, I had given no thought to who'd drive Zac's truck.
On joining us, Clive holds his hand up in the Vulcan salute so beloved by Spock. "Live long and prosper. Sorry we're late."
Audrey, who's next to him and also dressed as a Martian, nods in agreement, the silver bobbles on her headband bouncing around. "All ready to go?"
I glance at Zac for confirmation, getting a double thumbs up.
Soon enough, Clive sits in the driver's seat of Zac's truck, with Audrey next to him, and Zac and me in the back. It's cramped, but safer than riding the float down to the start of the parade.
