Bun in Her Oven Read online

  With a sigh, I followed her out and locked up after us. The freezing, knifing chill of the autumn wind nearly made me run back inside for a big puffy jacket. I held my ground and followed Sam down the stairs to her big white and red Kombi.

  “It’s a good thing we’re going to an indoor party,” said Sam giving me a look. “Otherwise you’d lose that nip to frostbite.”

  I chuckled and hopped into the passenger seat. “I feel like I could cut glass with it right now.”

  On the short ride over to the Halloween Bash at the Town Hall, we came up with one joke after the other. Each of us trying to outdo the other about their costume.

  “You look like a frat boy that thinks Greek week is a lifestyle choice,” said Sam.

  “At least I’m not trying to suck the souls out of children,” I countered.

  “Yeah, do you wanna go there, Weller? You do know the Greeks were disgusting sometimes, right?”

  I rolled my eyes at her and pointed out a parking spot. “Yeah, well I’m not a Greek mortal. I’m a Greek god.”

  Sam scoffed lined up in the spot, threw the van into park. “Yeah, like that’s better. The whole of Greek mythology can be summed up in five words: ‘Unfortunately, Zeus was feeling horny.’”

  That had me laughing all the way inside the gorgeous two-story stone building. Amber light spilled out of its wide arched windows and the whole place was festooned with orange and black ribbons. Fake spiders and plastic tombstones littered the area around the wide, sweeping stairs and cobwebs laced the iron railings leading up to the door.

  Town Hall was situated at the western end of Main Street, where the road split into Haverford Lane and Fenwick Street. The small clock tower at its center could be seen from just about anywhere on Main Street.

  Unfortunately, the town was hardly politically active and so the public forum of the Town Hall was mostly rented out for parties.

  I got more than a few ogling looks on my skimpy outfit. I couldn’t help but blush and grin at the same time. Usually, it was the girls wearing skimpy outfits and I was more than a little pleased to be the one turning heads so to speak.

  The attention would have made me extremely uncomfortable at any other time, but I knew Claire was here somewhere and I could feel her eyes on me. They were all the attention I wanted.

  Sam pulled me past the entryway arch of black and orange balloons and up into the hall itself. The music thumped in the distance and our feet were lost in a shroud of fog ankle-high. We went over to a cauldron of fog-covered punch.

  The placed looked a lot different from earlier in the day when I had brought over the themed pastries. Spider cookies, zombie finger éclairs, pumpkin pasties shaped like little pumpkins.

  It always filled me with joy and pride to see my food out in public like this and on so many plates as the other party-goers lined up to get their treats. People were dressed as lamely as a nurse or doctor to elaborate costumes with prosthetics.

  One guy was dressed as a doctor giving a patient the Heimlich. Another girl had a hole in her stomach that let you see out the back of her. I guessed she was using a small screen on her stomach and back but honestly it was hard to tell.

  I felt a little self-conscious making such a simple outfit.

  That was until I saw Claire.

  My heart stuttered. A seven-foot-tall Frankenstein (or Frankenstein’s Monster if you’re pedantic) moved aside to chase a slutty witch, and standing there in the middle of the dance floor was Claire.

  She glowed with beauty. Her hair was done up in a stunningly elaborate tower of curls with gold filigree wound throughout. Her outfit was shockingly similar to mine but better in every way. For a half-second, I was afraid she had peeked but then I realized that she never would.

  She wouldn’t even jaywalk.

  I had been right, it seemed. She really had gotten multiple outfits and when I gave her the Greek hint she ran with it. Apparently, she didn’t expect my outfit because I could see the same dumbstruck expression on her face. Her tantalizing lips parted in shock at seeing me.

  I was incredibly lucky to have worn such flowing and ruffled clothing because it hid the sudden semi I was rocking.

  I forced myself to run through the ratios of flour to water for various types of bread and squeezed my thigh muscles to divert blood flow from my dick. That was the last thing I needed right at that moment.

  Crisis managed, Claire and I walked towards each other, drawn together like magnets. Nobody else mattered, something Sam quipped about and nudged me in the ribs.

  “Have fun, kids,” she said to me and disappeared.

  I loved Sam like a sister but I had to admit I barely noticed her leaving. All my attention was focused purely on Claire. She was the definition of a goddess, Greek or otherwise.

  Her white flowing gown clung to her in all the right places. She had golden bangles on her wrists and the swell of her breasts was dusted with something that sparkled like gold when the swirling lights of the dance floor hit her.

  It was no wonder I fell so hard for this girl. And to top it all, she wore her engagement ring. My heart nearly burst.

  3

  Claire

  Seeing Thomas always stirred something in me. The warmth in my belly grew at the sight of this Greek god of muscle and tanned glory. As usual, he had no idea how many people were gawking at his handsome visage.

  I reveled in the selfish feeling that he was mine. All mine.

  We were pulled together as if by an unseen tether. He wrapped those naked powerful arms around me and I let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure. There was nothing better than one of Thomas’ hugs. The way he enveloped me so completely, so possessively was like nothing else.

  “You look amazing,” he finally said, holding me out at arm’s length and raking his eyes greedily over me. It was a good thing he was holding onto me so steadily. I’m not ashamed to say I swooned a little. Those dark pools of desire he had for eyes always made me melt.

  “I can’t believe we match.”

  “I can,” he said with a deep and throaty chuckle that made my knees weak.

  I traced my fingertips along the definition of his exposed muscles. “How’s that?” Mostly, I wanted to keep him talking so I could relish in the electric thrill that surged through the both of us. I could see it in the way his eyes unfocused. It was like a superpower I wished I had known I possessed a decade ago.

  “You’re incredibly prepared, Claire. I wouldn’t have been surprised if no matter what ridiculous outfit I chose, that you’d have found something to compliment it.”

  Guilty.

  When Thomas had announced he was keeping his costume a secret - apparently this was something he did yearly - I went out and researched the top trending costume ideas. Once I did that I bought a bunch of costumes from different themes and categories.

  I was pretty confident that I could modify anything to fit what he was going to be. If he hadn’t given me a hint, I would have snuck in while he was in the shower or something.

  Despite the mild frustration over such a juvenile thing, I had to admit I secretly loved it. There was a hint of rivalry, of seeing if I could guess what he was going to be and do something similar.

  But I had a better idea.

  “Next year,” I said, guiding him over to the cauldron of punch where he had come from. “How about we have a theme that we choose and we both try to make the best costume in that theme?”

  “I like it,” he said tentatively.

  I squinted at him. “But…?”

  “But, nothing.”

  I nearly pinched him. You are not twelve anymore Claire. “Come on, Thomas. You have some sort of reservation against it. Out with it.”

  “It’s not really a reservation,” he hedged. “More of a concern. You tend to get a little… competitive sometimes with these things. I want to make sure that we focus on keeping it a fun rivalry. Not one where I come home to find you have set fire to the room where my costume is kept because you c
ouldn’t find it.”

  I would never… be that reckless as to set a fire. I would instead set up a secret camera to watch him and spy on him to get the upper hand. Fire is always a last resort.

  Clearing my throat I gave him a nod to concede the point. I was a touch competitive. Sometimes. It was one of the things that made me so good in the world of business.

  The inside was dark and gloomy near the dance floor where the snack and drinks tables were. But closer to the large arched windows there were hanging jack-o-lanterns that washed the tables in an amber glow.

  He took a drink of the punch, handing me a cup ladled full of the ruby liquid. I took a sip and made a face that caused Thomas to crack up. “There’s booze in this!” I said, trying not to cough it all over Thomas’ white toga.

  He gave me a sympathetic pat on the back that turned into a soothing circular backrub. “Yeah, it’s an adults-only party. That punch is probably like half alcohol.”

  “If this is how Sunrise Valley spikes their punch, maybe I should convert the bookstore into a pub!” That earned a snort of laughter from Thomas.

  He quickly tried to hide it by taking another drink from what I was beginning to suspect was really moonshine with a few droplets of red food dye.

  “Let’s dance,” I suggested, putting my cup in the trash. I was a total lightweight. Two glasses of red wine and I was drunk. There was no way I was going to finish the rest of that cup.

  I’ll say this, Sunrise Valley knows how to throw an adorable Halloween Bash.

  People were dancing, the music was thumping, the DJ zombie was amazing. The whole event was far beyond my expectations. Somebody had brought in fog machines to create eddying swirls of mist on the dance floor.

  It was a delightfully eerie effect.

  Thomas was a much better dancer than I remembered. The awkward boy was nowhere to be seen from our high school days and I was quietly glad for it.

  My feet remembered his ungainly steps all too well.

  In that boy’s place was this magnificent specimen of a man dressed up as the god of desire and beauty. I do not know if he did it on purpose but he could not have been more right if he tried.

  He spun me around, twirled me in the foggy mist and dipped me before pulling me right up against him to grind. The man had moves. Luckily, I had spent a fair amount of time dancing in New York and I wasn’t entirely outmatched.

  It hardly mattered, nobody was watching us and both of us were having a great time. The effects of the punch were already making me more laid back and relaxed than usual.

  We danced for hours. Sometimes Sam or Jemma would come over and dance with us or steal one of us away. My mom even had a dance with Thomas and a couple with me.

  She looked ridiculous of course as the dumpy Sanderson sister but I had to admit that the trio together were dead ringers for the witches. All they needed was to chase a few kids around and a meddling black cat to finish the ensemble.

  Some young girls would ask to cut in every so often, and while the protective part of me wanted to say no I let a few of them dance with my Adonis.

  Maybe it was a little cruel but I couldn’t help but grin when I claimed him as mine again and their look of unmasked envy was clear on their pretty faces.

  I would still consider them friends. These are the people of Sunrise Valley, people whose voice I recognized even if I didn’t know their face. The same people who had called me and berated, goaded, or cajoled me about Thomas’ supposed infidelity. Which I was entirely off base about and I admit I was horrifically wrong about.

  Sometimes I referred to it as my temporary bout of insanity.

  When I recognized a voice wanting to cut in, I would let them. It was the least I could do. What kind of horrible person would I be if I didn’t at least try to share the most handsome man in town?

  They could have a dance or two while I hunted for something non-alcoholic to drink and rested my aching feet.

  That was until I came back to find my husband-to-be squaring off with a slight blonde-wigged vampire whose neckline plunged all the way down to her belly button. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

  Alone among the throng of dancing costumed bodies, Thomas and Beth stood facing each other. I could see Thomas’ large hands balled into fists. The veins and muscles of his forearms jumped out at me even from this distance.

  There was no way I could hear what they were talking about over the music and the noise of so many people but it was obvious they were not keeping their voices down.

  My temporary paralysis wore off and I rushed through the crowding wall of bodies that ringed the dance floor. By the time I pushed through, they had stopped talking.

  Beth stood with her slender arms folded delicately over her scandalously exposed cleavage, a shit-eating grin on her ruby painted lips.

  “We need to go,” said Thomas without preamble. He reached out and took my arm without ever taking his eyes off Beth like she was some sort of viper poised to attack.

  Before I knew what was going on he was dragging me off the dance floor. Beth fluttered her long painted nails at me and mouthed the words, “Bye, bye.”

  Out in the freezing cold air, I finally managed to pull hard enough on Thomas’ grip that he took the hint and stopped. After the warm, almost stuffy interior, being outside felt like I was dropped into an ice bath.

  Instinctively, Thomas reached for his shoulder where he’d normally be wearing a jacket. He realized his mistake a moment later and cursed colorfully. I had never seen him so out of sorts.

  I moved forward and put my hand on his chest. His heart was beating strong and harder than normal. “Talk to me, Thomas.”

  “That’s her party, Claire. Hers.” He pointed angrily at the building as if it had personally wronged him.

  I did my best to calm him down, though I had to admit it was a bit of a turn on. No. Bad Claire. Keep your mind off the beautiful, scantily clad male picture of virility. “What’s going on, how is that her party?”

  “She paid for it. All of it.” He looked like he was going to be sick. “I didn’t know, Claire. Honestly, I had no idea.” Why did he look guilty?

  I shook my head. “Thomas, who cares?” I was beginning to see where he was going and I was not about to let him feel guilty for taking her money. It was just money and it wasn’t like he did it on purpose.

  This loving man was so torn up and worried that I would feel betrayed or hurt that he was whipping himself into a frenzy over nothing. So what if Beth Ingvar threw the Halloween Bash? We still had a good time. It wasn’t like she could eject us from the event.

  Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. I could practically hear him counting down from ten. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I am sorry. I guess I overreacted. She was rubbing my face in it, acting all coy about how nice it was to finally be welcomed to eat my pastries. When I didn’t get it right away she explained it.”

  Even though I was much smaller than him, I pulled Thomas into the tightest hug I could. “You don’t need to worry about her, okay? She’s just trying to get under your skin. There is absolutely nothing she can do to us.”

  He hardly looked convinced but had the good graces not to argue with me about it. Sometimes that man could be so stubborn. “Did you want to go back inside?” he asked sheepishly.

  “No. How about we go home and watch a marathon of Vincent Price horror movies?”

  Thomas wrapped one big arm around me. “How about we watch some Abbot and Costello Halloween movies instead?”

  4

  Thomas

  That was not how I had envisioned us ending the night. Since Sam had driven us here, I hopped into Claire’s car. Though hopped was a pretty strong term.

  At over six feet tall I’m on the taller side and Claire’s tiny, ultra-efficient hybrid was small enough she could have parked it in our living room.

  After squeezing myself inside, Claire drove us home. Since Town Hall was on Main Street, the drive onl
y took about five minutes even accounting for the two traffic lights that happened to switch to red at just the right moment.

  Tonight was not going my way.

  The entire time I was mulling over what Beth had said. I knew I should not be dwelling on it. Claire was right, Beth was only trying to get under my skin.

  The problem was it worked.

  She had insinuated that A Game of Scones was on its last legs and any day now the spike in tourism would dry up. It wasn’t her words that bothered me, it was the smugness. Her tone said she knew something I didn’t.

  Just when things were going good too. Whenever I thought I would be okay, that things were finally going my way, life kicked me in the pants and pushed me over.

  Every damn time.

  This would be different. I was not about to let Beth ruin a good thing I had going and I definitely was not about to let her ruin this night. So, when we got back to the apartment I struggled out of the hybrid and raced around to Claire’s side as she opened her door.

  Her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m taking you home,” I said, reaching a hand out to her. She took it and I pulled her up into my arms.

  In one smooth motion I swept her up and kneed the car door shut. Carrying her was one of my favorite things to do. She was so light and the way Claire’s eyes danced with glee made my heart swell.

  She wrapped her arms around my neck. Her breasts swelled with the motion and I could not look away from the glorious display of cleavage. My dick twitched at the sight and I hurried up the steps before I got lost in the smooth, creamy skin that was practically thrust into my face.

  Claire laughed at my obvious attempt to not be distracted. “You are a man of great conviction.”

  “Shush, you.”

  “Such a gentleman too!” She pulled one arm away from my neck and put the back of her hand to her forehead, mock swooning. “Oh, my stars, whatever is a little ol’ lady like me supposed to do in the face of such gallantry?”