Unmasked Desire (Love Demands a Holiday Book 6)

by McKenna Rogue

  Then came a burst of hot air, like the breath of a feral animal.

  Angela’s body tensed, her shoulders curling in as her head darted left and right, looking for the source of the sound.

  The werewolf didn’t disappoint. Even in the light of day, the grey-brown fur and red-tipped teeth looked ferocious leaping out of the innocuous bushes beside her. But it was the glowing yellow eyes that really sold it.

  Angela didn’t disappoint either.

  She jumped back and let out a shriek as she collided with my chest.

  I caught her just before she fell and raised an eyebrow at her. “I told you to be careful where you stepped.”

  She scowled and shoved off me, brushing her hands down her thighs as if her palms had grown sweaty. “You could’ve warned me.”

  “It’s just Harold.” I made up the name on the spot. “He’s harmless. Twenty-seven nights out of the month.” I grinned and gestured for her to keep going. “He didn’t scare you, did he?”

  Rolling her eyes, she started forward again as the werewolf slid back into his hiding spot. She kept a careful watch on her feet, trying to avoid anything else.

  Like I’d make it that easy.

  Some of my props were set up on motion sensors. Others had pressure pads. And a few were triggered by sound. There was no way she could avoid all of them, even if she knew where to look.

  The next one she tripped was just sounds—ominous chanting, a cackle, bubbling like a boiling cauldron.

  Angela jumped back, right into a wall of spiderwebs and plastic spiders.

  She shrieked again, and I pulled her out of the webs. Into my arms.

  “You’re a jumpy one, aren’t you?” I picked a few bits of webbing from her hair, holding her against me as she trembled slightly.

  “You’re enjoying this. You purposely wanted me to come back through here. Isn’t the tradition in your holiday to at least give me the option of trick or treat?” She shook her head, looking around furtively. “Where are the rest? I’m not playing this game with you. If all you want to do is scare me, I’ll get right back in my car and leave.”

  I caught a drip of blood just before it hit her ivory sweater, from a prop I hadn’t gotten to work quite right but was still hanging overhead. “I might be. A little. But it really is the safer way to get you inside.” If she noticed the back of my hand brushing against the top curve of her breast, she didn’t react. Which just made me want to know what did make her react.

  Muttering under her breath, I barely made out, “Should’ve met at The Grind.”

  “Okay, I’ll steer you around the curves. No more props.” Even though I really did want to see how else she’d react. It was like watching a skittish cat, afraid of her own shadow. And I was loving every minute of it.

  She scowled but gestured for me to lead the way.

  I took her hand, guiding her through the labyrinth of props and jump scare devices. We only set off one more, one I’d set up specifically so no one would be able to avoid it.

  As the witch on her broom swooped down from the sky, Angela leapt behind me, pressing her chest against my back, her manicured nails digging into my arms slightly as the witch crossed our path.

  When my witch had flown past, Angela smacked me in the shoulder. “You said no more props.”

  “That one’s unavoidable. But look,” —I pointed at the French doors leading into my kitchen— “You made it.”

  She practically sprinted for the house.

  The kitchen was my only clear room. The only place I kept clean of props and tools.

  Fake blood was fun, but not in a morning omelet.

  “Coffee or tea, Mayor?” I grabbed a couple mugs from the cabinet, careful to keep them out of her line of sight. I’d promised no more props outside. I never said anything about Halloween things in here.

  “Coffee, please.”

  “Cream or sugar?” I looked over my shoulder at her, smiling as I grabbed the electric kettle and filled it to heat.

  “Black’s fine. Unless you have pumpkin spiced creamer.”

  I spun, surprised. “You’re a pumpkin spice girl? But that’s such a fall treat.” I smirked at her. “You better be careful. It might be a gateway drug into liking Halloween.”

  “It’s warm spices with a touch of sweet. It’s not like I’m about to go out and start reading Stephen King novels.” She rolled her eyes. “You know what, make it black. I don’t need your judgments.”

  Her own judgement sliced through my own playful banter. She’d already made her mind up about me and I wasn’t sure I fared well.

  But with as tense as she was, the defensiveness didn’t surprise me at all.

  I kept any further comments to myself as I made her a pour-over cup of coffee and then filled a tea ball for myself. She could think what she wanted about me and about Halloween; I had no doubt I could convert her before the masquerade.

  Once our drinks were ready, I carried them over and set the coffee in front of her, and a bottle of pumpkin spiced creamer—just in case.

  “What the hell is that?” She leaned back in her chair, as if she was trying to get as far from her mug as possible.

  “Not a fan of Pennywise?” I sipped from my own mug, which just happened to be shaped and painted like a severed zombie head.

  She shook her head and picked up the mug, carefully wrapping her hand around it to hide the clown’s face. “You know, for a therapist, you get a sick sense of enjoyment out of torturing people.”

  I shook my head. “This isn’t torture. If you really want to see torture, I could show you a few things.”

  5

  Angela

  He was messing with me.

  He had to be.

  Colton Black was obviously a sociopath, intent on torturing me for the sheer enjoyment of watching me squirm.

  Why else would he have served my coffee in what had to be the creepiest clown mug imaginable?

  At least it wasn’t the zombie head. I didn’t think I could’ve even tried to drink out of that one.

  “Tru said you would be willing to help plan the masquerade, and get the event put together.” I sipped the pumpkin spiced coffee, ignoring his attractive smirk at the fact that I’d used the creamer he set out.

  It was too bad he was an insane, Halloween loving freak.

  He might’ve been cute. If he wasn’t obsessed with terrifying people and building horrible props.

  “The jury’s still out on that one, Mayor. But we can talk about it.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he gripped his zombie head in both hands. “What’s your theme?”

  It made me nervous even talking about it. Tru thought it was a good idea, but I also paid her to have my back. It was way different than anything else I’d seen in the previous years we had on file, and I wasn’t sure how a real Halloween fan would appreciate it.

  “I’m thinking a true masquerade. The antique dresses, traditional masks, total Victorian scene.”

  Colton pursed his lips, and for a second, I was sure he would shoot me down. It wasn’t like there was anything inherently scary about a traditional masquerade.

  Unless you were afraid of people in masks.

  “It’s a good start, but I think it needs a little something more. What about Victorian vampires? Or ghosts?”

  Oh good. He wanted to add makeup to the already iffy mask situation.

  “I don’t know. It sounds a little over the top, don’t you think? What’s wrong with just a masquerade?”

  “How are you going to decorate? What sort of foods are you going to serve? Where’s the scare factor?”

  I sipped my coffee again, and sighed. “Why does it have to be scary? I thought the point of the party was just to dress up, pretend to be something else, and have a good time.”

  “That’s part of it, sure. But there’s almost always something scary, something designed specifically to go along with the theme.” He shrugged. “Let’s start with masquerade. What speaks to you a
bout this theme?”

  It’s not creepy masks? I can pretend it’s a classy event, not a party specifically designed to make me feel like everyone I know is out to get me? “It didn’t look like anything had been done in recent years. I want my masquerade to stand out.”

  “Then maybe it’s a good thing you came to me.” He winked at me as he took another sip from his zombie head. “Not that I’ve agreed yet.”

  “Come on, Mr. Black. You clearly love this stuff. Your entire house is devoted to it. Hell, even the house itself looks like it could be haunted.” I opened and closed my hands and took a deep breath trying to stomach the idea of accepting his help. Of doing whatever it would take to get it done. “And it’s pretty obvious I have no idea what I’m doing. Will you please help me?”

  “Please, huh? Are you begging, Mayor Bartell?”

  Why was the curve of his lips so sexy? I hated it when men smirked. I hated men who thought they could get whatever they wanted, just because thy knew they were attractive.

  “Is that what it’s going to take?”

  Colton let out a laugh. A husky, deep rumbling laugh that lit up his eyes. “As much as I’d like to see you on your knees, I’m not going to make you beg. Yet. I’ll work with you, for now. But I withhold the right to quit at any time. If I think you’re not taking this seriously, that you don’t want this party to succeed, I’ll let you fall on your face.”

  I nodded slowly. He had the power here, and he knew it. I couldn’t even fathom half the things I’d seen in his backyard, let alone know how to make them work.

  If it weren’t for the fact it was all designed to torture and scare people, I might’ve been impressed.

  “Do you have a costume in mind already? Maybe we can use it for a color scheme. The Mayor always stands out at these things.”

  Of course, they did. Because it was part of the job—making sure I was seen enjoying every town event.

  “I barely have a theme, Mr. Black. Do you really think I would have a costume picked out? I figured I’d just go to one of those chain places. I think they’re setting one up a couple towns over.”

  “A chain store?” He shook his head. “No way. You want to be dressed for this thing, the only place to go is Bizarro’s. Unless you happen to have a personal seamstress handy.” He leaned forward on the table again, and for a second, I thought he was going to take my hand.

  Which was ridiculous.

  “If we’re going to be working with each other, I think we can drop the formalities. As much as I enjoy you calling me Mr. Black, it’s Colton.”

  “Colton.” I let the name linger on my lips, testing it out. “I suppose it’s only fair you call me by my first name as well.”

  “Mayor?” He raised an eyebrow at me, teasing.

  “Yep.” I rolled my eyes slightly but tried to hide it behind my coffee cup. The creepy clown mug.

  “If we’re dropping formalities, Angela, why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself.”

  The lack of formality made it easier for my eyes to travel and admire aspects of him I didn’t need to be checking out. And I certainly didn’t need him thinking we were friends, or that there would be anything here but work. And why did I like the way my name sounded on his lips?

  Mentally shaking my head, I refocused on his question. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re the youngest Mayor Jubilee Falls has ever seen. There must be a story there.”

  I shook my head. “And you must be the oldest Halloween fan. If I have to have a story, you must too.”

  Colton chuckled. “Fair enough.” He sipped his tea again, watching me over the rim of his cup expectantly.

  “There’s really not much of a story. I believe in Jubilee Falls, and I want to see the town stay successful. I like that it’s full of small town, family values, and I like that everyone helps each other out. If that means I occasionally have to deal with a Halloween party, then so be it.” I shrugged. “Why does anyone run for public office?”

  “They usually have their sights set higher than Mayor of a small town.”

  I wasn’t about to try to explain who I was to Colton Black. He had no effect on me or my life, and as soon as this party was over, I hopefully wouldn’t have to talk to him again for another year. “What about you? Why are you obsessed with this holiday?”

  “It was a family tradition. My mom loved Halloween and always made it feel special. We’d make grotesque costumes, decorate the front of the house, trick-or-treat through the neighborhood. It didn’t seem right to stop after she died.”

  Oh, God. Now I felt like an ass.

  “Besides, it’s just plain fun. Getting scared, scaring others, it makes you feel alive. That little jolt, your heart rate jumping, the tingling of anticipation, waiting to see what else might come out of the dark…” He grinned. “If you can’t let your imagination get away from you, let it run amok at night, when the shadows are longer, making you question if it’s just a tree branch, or a creepy hand reaching out to pull you into the depths of hell, what kind of life are you leading?”

  “Some people actually want to feel safe in their hometowns, Colton.” Some of us don’t want to have to worry about getting kidnapped and held for ransom by men in Halloween masks. “Are you an adrenaline junkie or something?”

  He got up and walked around the table, resting his palm against the wooden surface and leaning in close.

  His words echoed what was happening inside of me. My heartbeat thrumming in my chest, jumping when he drew even closer. The tingle of anticipation created a flutter in my stomach, a twitch in my fingers like I was eager to reach out and touch him. It was all there happening to me and it had nothing to do with Halloween or his haunted house shenanigans.

  “Mayor, I know you’re hiding secrets. I can read them all over your face. You’re going to tell me.”

  “Not likely.” I pushed out of my chair too, intending it to be a power move; instead it just put me toe-to-toe with the man. I could feel heat radiating off him, his strength and power obvious this close, just under the surface. “We’re business partners, if we’re anything, and I don’t think I need to explain anything to you.”

  He took a step forward, pushing me back toward the kitchen wall as he invaded my space, one slow, intent step at a time.

  My heart beat rapidly as I glanced around, searching for my least terrifying path to get around him safely. Being hunted in a playground of my worst fears gave me the sensation of being watched.

  Even with all the horrifying objects and obstacles surrounding me, I couldn’t decide if I was ready to be out of his presence yet.

  Colton Black awoke something in me I usually kept buried deep. He certainly made me feel alive, made me feel needy and desperate. But it didn’t have anything to do with his Halloween display; it had everything to do with his muscular arms, his wide chest, his broad back, his big hands I couldn’t stop imaging all over my body.

  “You’re going to open up to me, Ms. Bartell. And when you do, I don’t think you’re going to want to stop.” He caged me in, my back flush against the wall behind me.

  I traced my tongue over my lips, waiting to see what he would do. Almost hoping he’d kiss me, and either fully ignite this flame threatening to take over or extinguish it once and for all.

  But Colton took a step back and released me from whatever spell he had me under. “Tomorrow, nine a.m. I’ll set an appointment with Tru, but make sure you’re ready to go.” He stepped around the table, creating even more space between us. “And, Angela, wear flats. Or running shoes.”

  I tried to swallow, my dry mouth protesting the action while I tried to ignore my body’s urge to go after him, insist he press me against the wall again. “Running shoes?”

  “For what I have planned, you’re going to need them.”

  “Okay.” I glanced at the French doors, and then to the archway leading toward the rest of the house. “Do I really have to go back out through the yard?”<
br />
  He smirked. “Either way, it’s going to be a maze of Halloween props.” He took one last swig from his mug and then reached for my hand. “Although, I do have a secret shortcut. If you trust me.”

  I didn’t.

  Except that I absolutely did.

  At five minutes to nine the next morning, I laced up my tennis shoes, already regretting the fact that Tru had blocked out my entire day for Colton Black.

  “He didn’t tell you what we’re doing?” I looked up at my assistant with what I was sure was pleading in my eyes. “Not even a hint?”

  “All he said was you were working on the masquerade.” She handed over a latte and my purse. “And I shouldn’t expect you back until late.”

  Late. Great. Just what I needed.

  “If I text you, you’re going to call with a mayoral emergency that’ll get me out of it, right?”

  “This isn’t some bad date, Mayor. He probably just wants to make sure you have enough time to really get stuff sorted out.” She smiled in a way I was sure she meant to be reassuring but did nothing to ease the feeling I had of being a lamb to the slaughter.

  At two minutes to nine, I headed out of my office, out of the capitol building, and looked around for Colton Black.

  Instead, all I found was a bloody hockey mask staring back at me.

  “Colton.” I hoped my tone sounded irritated, a little derisive. Not shaky or like I wanted to put my running shoes to good use.

  He lifted the mask, a frown marring his face. “You could’ve at least jumped. I knew I should’ve gotten here sooner.”

  Rolling my eyes, I started for the parking lot, where my Encore sat, ready to go.

  “Oh, no, I’m driving.” He grinned as he pointed at his car.

  A black hearse.

  “No.” I shook my head. I could handle most things, but I wasn’t driving around town in a fucking hearse.

  “Relax, Angela. I’m kidding.” He shifted his point a little to the right, toward a shiny black Escalade. “I paid Larry to park here for half an hour.” He grinned and linked arms with me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.