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“Pumpkin—”
She slurps. “I know what’s happened… I’ve fallen in love with this drink! You tricked me, you nasty witch.”
Playing along, the actress cackles.
Marcella murmurs, “I may die of a broken heart once I’m done. Woe is me.” Slurp.
I can’t tame my smile as I order a drink for myself, and a third to share, which Marcella only accepts because I get a sip in before she can wrestle the cup out of my hands.
We meander in and out of shops, on the hunt for something apple flavored with caramel.
Unfortunately, there is a shocking lack of such things. But we give it the best shot we can by stopping anywhere offering food and sampling the menus. As we’re sitting in a gothic, bone-themed cafe, Marcella freezes with her brownie halfway to her lips.
“What is it?” I ask, cutting into my tart.
“What you picked looks good.”
I chuckle, cut a bite, and hold my fork out across the table. “If you like it, I’ll get you one.”
Heat crosses her cheeks, but she accepts the offered morsel, licking a bit of the custard off her lip. “You’ll spoil me completely, acting like this.”
“I’m not remotely concerned. I bet you spoil like a fine wine.”
“Hm…” Without looking, she holds her brownie out to me. So soft I can barely hear her beneath the eerie music pouring from crackling speakers all around, she says, “Is this…what forever would feel like?”
Mouth full of chocolate, I stare at her. Managing to swallow, I reply, “What does this feel like?”
Her gaze startles to me, then she shoves the whole rest of her brownie in her mouth and does not reply.
Chapter 21
Yes. This is what forever will feel like. I promise.
– Finnegan
Marcella nestles against me while I try not to break the spell. No doubt that love potion worked…but I’m terrified it will wear off before I’m ready. It’s late. A midnight hum buzzes in my ears as she sits beside me in the limo, curled up on the seat, head in my lap. Making sure to apply consistent pressure, I rub her shoulder and flick through photos of the evening in my mind.
She survived three minutes on the haunted path. The second a man with a chainsaw actually did appear, she stabbed her finger at him, barked no, and latched onto my hand. While Mark and Jeff fell in to protect their princess, she marched me back out into the streets, to the cafe, and downed another brownie.
Because I ate a bite of hers the first time.
And she quite entirely required a whole one.
Shortly after that, she told me she was done.
So now we’re here.
Going home.
It feels like I’m trapped in a dream that just escaped the atmosphere of a splendid nightmare.
“Finn?”
My hand stills against her shoulder. “Yes, love?”
“It’s November.”
Breath tightens in my lungs.
