He nods, shoving another thumbtack into the wall. “That’s exactly what I meant.”
Chapter 7
“Hey, Aunt Robin,” Miranda calls out from the hallway. I barely hear her over the scary Halloween soundtrack she downloaded onto her mp3 player and has been blasting through the house to celebrate the holiday.
“Yeah?” I mumble back while peering into my makeup mirror as my hand draws on a thick line of eyeliner.
“I need you to stop obsessing over your looks for one second and look at me.”
I cap the eyeliner and give her an annoyed look. Only, I can only glare at her head as it pokes into my doorway from the hall. “I’m not obsessing over my looks,” I grumble.
She lifts one eyebrow. “Really? You’re gonna deny it? Whatever, look I need your advice.”
“What advice is that?”
She steps forward. “How do I look? Stupid? Do I look stupid?”
My mouth falls open. She’s wearing a beat up pair of jeans, Converse, and a gray skirt on top of the jeans. The orange and white striped shirt she had ordered online protrudes over her belly and the whole thing is topped off with a black leather jacket she borrowed from my closet. I close my mouth and smile. “You look really awesome. Exactly like Juno, right down to the smartass expression on your face.”
She rolls her eyes. “I just don’t want to look stupid.”
“Now who’s obsessing over their looks?” I mock, shooing her away with my hand. “Let me finish getting dressed so we won’t be late.”
She leans against the door frame, eyeing me as I grab a brand new tube of bright red lipstick. “Who are you supposed to be? A sexy janitor?”
“Seriously?” I mumble through drawing the lipstick across my upper lip. “You can’t tell that I’m Rosie the Riveter?”
Her brows wrinkle. “Who?”
“Wow, you have some American History learning to do.” I cap the lipstick and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Yeah, the makeup is a bit much. I did an entire face full—foundation, powder, that spray stuff that’s supposed to keep your makeup on all night, and overdone blush so my cheeks would be overly rosy like the posters. My dirty blonde hair is piled on top of my head in a bun with my bangs in a slight poofy bouffant. “Hand me that handkerchief?” I ask my niece, just to give her something to do besides gawk at me like I’m some kind of weirdo who makes up fictional characters to impersonate on Halloween.
I tie the red handkerchief around my hair, knotting it up top and pinning it in place with a few bobby pins. I roll up the sleeves of my thrift store work jumper to my elbows and, once again, look into the mirror.
My clothes are a little baggy and show absolutely no sexiness. But my makeup is drop dead awesome. I know it goes against everything I would normally believe in, but tonight I don’t want to be as hot as possible. I want to be normal Robin Carter. Wearing a normal, non slutty Halloween costume. I want to be able to be taken seriously. Because tonight, I have something important to say.
The fairgrounds are just as packed as they were for the Cockroach Festival, only now the cool chill in the air and the crunch of fallen leaves on the ground give off a different vibe. Summer is officially over in Salt Gap, Texas. Miranda messes with her phone for the entire drive, texting someone. And when I say someone, I mean Marcus. He’s pretty much the only person she ever talks to on her new phone, especially since she had officially severed ties with her old friends back at home.
We approach the gates to the fair and I pay the four dollars for our tickets to enter. Miranda’s belly bumps into me as she whirls around at the entrance with a big smile on her face. “You look ridiculous!” she says, giggling. Marcus appears behind us, dressed head to toe in filthy, ripped clothing covered with makeup and fake blood. His fake plastic ear is sliding down his face and the slight green hue to his face of makeup tells me he’s a zombie.
“My sister did it,” he says a little sheepishly. He touches his face and crinkles his nose. “I don’t know how women wear this crap all day long. It’s making my face sticky.”
“Theater makeup doesn’t feel anything like normal makeup,” Miranda assures him. He slides his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a quick hug. Her cheeks flush red at their brief embrace and it takes just about all of my willpower not to make fun of her for it. In fact, I don’t say anything at all. Karma and all that.
Lord knows I don’t need the bad karma fairy to pay me a trip of embarrassment tonight. My niece, who is totally crushing on Marcus, and Marcus, who is totally crushing on her, head off into the festival, both pretending that they’re just friends. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle my eighteen year old niece, her baby, and the idea of her dating someone else. But as long as she’s happy and healthy and not doing anything too terribly stupid, I’m going to support her. Marcus is a good kid. Vandalism tendencies and all.
The object of my last few weeks of heartache stares at me from across the packed metal building. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a black long-sleeved pearl snap cowboy shirt, cowboy boots—the same boots I fell into on the first night I met him—and a black cowboy hat. I’m not even really into the western hottie thing, but damn. Tyler wears his pitiful Halloween costume like God himself fashioned the outfit out of heavenly fabrics just for him.
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” I say, glancing to my left. To my chagrin, Miranda and Marcus are already gone and I’ve just spoken aloud to absolutely no one. A small girl dressed in black cat costume stares at me with painted on whiskers across her cheeks.
I’ve been ditched by my niece and now I’m all alone at the Halloween festival. There’s really no better opportunity for me to have a chat with the man who is still watching me from across the room. Right now is the perfect time. I know exactly what to say because I’ve practiced it for a good twenty-four hours.
So why am I so nervous?
I swallow back my nerves and dig up all that confidence I used to have when I was a real estate agent. In my few years of professional work, I’ve had to deal with all kinds of crazy clients and intimidating situations. All of the scary people and intimidating high-dollar sales situations had all been resolved thanks to my professional attitude and confidence. I can do this. This is exactly the same as dealing with millionaire clients.
Only it’s not like that at all.
My thrift store combat boots feel a thousand pounds heavier as I force them to step across the concrete floor, maneuvering around children in costumes as they run around to all of the game booths. My eyes fix on Tyler’s. He makes a little smirk as he leans back against the wall near the entrance of the main haunted house. The entrance is a black opening, covered with black plastic sheeting on all four sides. Strips of mummy cloth dangle across the opening, forcing you to feel it touch you as you step inside. One of Sherry’s brothers mans the haunted house, waving his hands and wiggling his eyebrows at each new person who dares to enter. Even though I know what the place looks like with all the lights on, it’s still pretty impressive-looking from where I stand. If I were ten years younger, I might be scared to venture inside.
My heart crawls up into my throat when I get close enough to see the sparkle in Tyler’s eyes. Sure, it’s just the reflection from a strand of purple ghost lights above his head, but there’s also a different look on his face than usual.
It’s now or never, Robin.
I take a deep breath. “I want to talk to you.”
He touches the top of his hat, tipping it down a bit as he winks at me. “I’d be happy to talk to you, ma’am. Your name is Rosie, right?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I mean a real talk. Between Robin and Tyler, not Rosie the Riveter and…Tyler dressed like a cowboy.”
He smiles. “I know. I was just…being dumb.” His hand touches my lower back, guiding me to the left. “Shall we talk inside of our haunted house masterpiece?”
I’m about to object but then I think about how talking to Tyler about this very important subjec
t might be easier if we’re in a darkened haunted house. At least then I wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes when I asked him my important question. My arms wrap around myself. My body shudders in the cool October air. I glance around and see that all of the garage doors to the metal building are opened as people filter from the activities inside to the ones outside. “Sure,” I say, leading the way to the entrance. Tyler places a few bills into the plastic donation bucket at the start of the haunted house. Sherry’s brother nods a thank you to us and then rolls his hand dramatically, allowing us to enter the place that we created just a few days ago.
We step through the mummy strands and darkness envelops us. My vision goes blurry as my eyes adjust to the complete darkness. Erie music plays from surround sound speakers so it sounds like it’s both right in front of me and then everywhere at once. “Tyler?” I call out tentatively, wondering if he’s walked farther than I have. “I’m here,” is his response. I feel a warm hand touch my back.
We move forward, feeling our way through the darkness. The walls get creepy and textured, cold and wet, and all kinds of faux gross as we meander through the pitch black hallway. “Jeez, is it supposed to be so dark?” I ask, just so I’ll get a response. I hate feeling completely alone in here, with or without his hand on my back.
Tyler’s reply is relaxed, confident. “It’ll lighten up when we reach the corner.”
“What corner?” Smack. I step back from the sharp right hand turn I had just slammed into. “Ah. This one,” I say with a little laugh as if I’m not embarrassed. We turn the corner, Tyler’s hand still on my back, and a burst of freezing fog wafts over us. I close my eyes, wondering how badly this will screw up my makeup and press on through the haunted house. Immediately after the fog, a bright light bursts on and hideous monsters jump out at us.
I wish I could say that I am cool and collected, but I can’t. I practically jump out of my skin and clutch Tyler’s arm as if that one bicep could save my life. We walk through shaking floors, dizzying strobe lights and filter through costumed haunted house volunteers who creep along behind us, lurking around every corner, trying to scare us. I hate that I keep jumping in front of these guys who are most likely someone I already know. I hate that they know who I am, but I have no idea who’s under the bloody masked person in front of me. I smile because I am having a good time with Tyler and I am mega impressed about how great this thing turned out, even though now I only recognize snippets of the stuff I helped set up. It looks so much crazier now that it’s show time.
The music blares and the scary figures keep jumping out at us as we go through the maze of a haunted house. Before we turn yet another corner that will lead us into another hallway of madness, I stop and grab Tyler’s pearl snap shirt, tugging him down to my level. “You okay?” he asks, concern sweeping across his gorgeous face.
“This isn’t a good place to talk,” I say. Although it’s more like a yell over the loud music. “You brought me here just to avoid talking.” I glare at him. “You can try all you want, but you won’t get out of talking to me.”
His cocky smirk looks a little scary in the overhead lighting. He nods toward the corner. “Come on, I’ll show you where we can talk.”
At the end of a large hallway is a large metal door, almost like some kind of scary insane asylum elevator door. I don’t recall seeing this when I was helping set up. Tyler presses the filthy red button to the right and the door clanks open, revealing what looks like the inside of an elevator from hell. Fake blood splattered everywhere, graffiti on the walls, one single florescent light bulb that flickers every few seconds.
“After you,” Tyler says with a wave of his hand. I roll my eyes, pretending that this isn’t a little scary, and step into the fake elevator, surprised when the bottom shakes a little, as if it wasn’t sitting on solid ground.
Tyler joins me and the doors slam closed much quicker than they had opened. “We can talk in here,” he says. “This thing will take a while.”
“I didn’t know we had this,” I say, peering around at the realistic décor. Tyler steps forward until I’m backed into the corner of the fake elevator. “What did you want to talk about, Miss Robin Carter?”
My mouth opens and—I completely forget what I was going to say. The fake elevator lurches, shaking and rumbling as it tumbles around the air, pretending to be rising to the next floor. At least, I think it’s pretending. The metal building doesn’t have a second floor. My eyes go wide at the surprise and Tyler smiles. “Cool, huh? We had it brought in from Houston.”
“Very cool,” I say with a smile. He steps a little bit closer, something I hadn’t thought possible. Now my head is against the wall and I’m staring up at him as he towers over me, his cowboy hat casting a shadow over his features. I can see him bite his lip though, and his hands slide out of his pockets and hover in the air between our bodies.
I swallow. “I wanted to talk about…um, us.”
“I’d like to talk about us, too.”
If I were in my right mind, I’d be embarrassed at how goofy my smile is right now. Instead, all I do is suck in a sharp gasp of air when Tyler’s warm hands slide around my waist, pulling me toward him as the elevator shakes. I lift my chin and my face fits perfectly under the brim of his cowboy hat. I see his eyes close, and then his lips crash into mine.
A million emotions swirl through my mind, all of them good and none of them coherent. I close my eyes and tell myself to focus on the kiss, and not the creaking metal on metal sounds or the shaking of this stupid elevator. His lips move against mine and I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck to keep him close.
I breathe in the scent of his cologne and move for another kiss—only it lands on his chin. The elevator has reached its ascension into chaos and now it rocks at sharp angles, sending us wobbling around everywhere. I clutch to Tyler so I don’t lose my balance. His hands slide around my back and down to my butt. I hold tightly around his neck as he lifts me up, pressing my back against the wall and encircling my legs around his waist.
“Where were we?” he whispers as the fake elevator continues to shake. I answer by kissing him again. And it’s a good kiss. Emotional fireworks burst between us and somewhere in the back of my mind, I think this was totally worth the wait. Then I remember it was all my fault that I had to wait so long to have my fingers sliding up the back of Tyler’s recently buzzed hair, my legs wrapped around his waist like we’re in a real falling elevator and my life really does depend on it. His hands slide roughly up my back, squeezing me against him as we continue to make out. I should just let myself get caught up in the moment but I can’t stop thinking that this feels so right, yet I’ve waited so, so long for it to happen. We could have been making out for weeks now.
The elevator jolts to a stop. The metal door slides open. Tyler steps back slowly, a dazed look on his face. My feet fall back to the floor. Somewhere in the tumultuous elevator ride, we got spun around because the elevator opens into another hallway, not the one we came from. Tyler holds out a hand for me and I take it.
But when he steps forward, I stay firmly in the same spot. “That wasn’t talking,” I say, my voice seeming too loud, even over the Halloween sounds playing through the speakers all around us.
“What do you want to talk about?” His emotions reel in and that smile on his face turns to concern. My heart thumps in my chest and I desperately want to shrug, shake my head and say never mind. But then I know I’d be pissed at myself for backing down, so I drop his hand and look him in the eyes.
“What’s the deal with Elizabeth?”
His eyebrows draw together. It’s as if that was the last possible question he had thought I’d ask. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t even give me that crap,” I say, shaking my head. “She obviously has a thing for you. And half the time I think you have a thing for her.”
He nods and takes a deep breath, his cheeks poofing out as he exhales. “I’ll explain everything you want to know,” h
e says, reaching for my hand again. “Let’s get out of here first.”
Ten minutes later, Tyler hands me a paper wand of pink cotton candy. “Stop biding for time,” I tease, pulling off a piece of sugary fluff and popping it in my mouth.
“You’re the one who wanted cotton candy,” he says, bumping into me with his shoulder. He steals a piece of it and I watch it melt as it touches his tongue. I bet his lips taste even better now.
“You are the master of cocky smiles, you know. I’ve never seen someone look as arrogant as you do right now.” I don’t tell him that he looks super-hot with that cocky grin on his face. He doesn’t need to know that.
“Well I’m not usually so arrogant,” he says, leading me away from the crowds.
“You’re just making an exception for tonight?”
He nods. “The hottest girl in town just made out with me so I’d say I’m entitled to some arrogance. I mean, that same girl has been known to shoot me down and lie about not wanting to date anyone.”
I punch him in the arm. “Don’t call me a liar.”
He grabs my fast right after it connected with his arm and slides his hand around my fingers, interlacing his hand with mine. Now we’re walking on a cool October night in the middle of nowhere Texas, and we’re holding hands and I’m eating cotton candy and things just really can’t get any more perfect or cliché than this.
I hold out my cotton candy, offering him some more. He leans forward and takes a bite. I watch him a moment, before unleashing a bunch of word vomit. “So what the hell is going on with Elizabeth? I need answers, now, and don’t think you’ll make out with me again if you keep avoiding them.”
We approach a truck in the back of the parking lot. I think it’s his truck but all the beat up pickups in this town look the same. He lets down the tailgate and we sit on the makeshift bench. I have to slip my hand out of his in order to hoist myself up onto the tailgate and now I’m desperately wishing I could hold his hand again. But instead of grabbing for it, I cross my arms and stare at him. I need answers and I will not buckle into a little girl with a crush.
The Fate Series Box Set (Robin and Tyler Book 4) Page 19