Page 31 of Halloween Town

“She wants to promote it as a tourist event. Her ideas include the players running out through fog machines and glowing pumpkins. She’s tasked a graphic designer to come up with a haunted version of the team logo, and she wants the marching band to be dressed as zombies, and to play ‘spooky’ music, whatever the hell that is. And to do a zombie shuffle, whatever the fuck that is!” He looked at Hadley and sighed. “Sorry, Hads.”

Hadley shrugged. “I have no objection to you swearing, as you have to pay me every time you do. So please, carry on.”

“How much do you owe Hadley, dude?” Thom smiled, and Poppy’s stomach rolled over. Dear God, that smile, open and authentic, could power a few small towns and an AI server farm. It made the fine lines at the corner of his eyes deepen in the most delicious way. Her childhood hero was a very, very attractive man. A man who could kiss to Olympic standards. Don’t go there, McMaster.

Hayes scowled at his daughter. “More than I should, but far less than she claims.”

Hadley waved her phone and handed him a smug grin. “I keep a record … dude.”

“Smart ass,” Hayes muttered.

“I get it from you,” Hadley cheerfully agreed. Poppy smiled, soaking up their banter and their easy closeness. It wasn’t something she’d had with her own parents. As the youngest child, she’d sensed they’d run out of interest—and energy—by the time she arrived. And because she wasn’t academically gifted like her siblings, parental enthusiasm had been thin on the ground.

Without her grandparents, this house, and this town, her childhood would’ve been an unbroken stretch of loneliness. Knowing she could escape back to H-Town during school vacations—to a place where she was loved, indulged, and genuinely seen—had kept her going.

It was no wonder she’d felt so untethered after their deaths. Grandpa and Grandma M. had been her compass points. Without them, it felt as though someone had dialed down the sun.

Then Benji—bold, charming, and very much parent-approved—had turned his spotlight on her. With him at her side, she’d received the positive attention from her family she never experienced as a child, and she jumped in fast.

Not, as it turned out, her smartest decision.

On hearing the growly sound of a deep-throated bike, they all turned simultaneously to watch Luna, minus a helmet, barreling down the drive on what Poppy thought was a too-powerful motorbike. Wren shook her head and pointed an accusing finger at Hayes. “I blame you for this,” she said, scowling. “Why did you restore it for her?”

Hayes raised his hands. “Business is business, and it’s her grandfather’s Harley. I wasn’t going to let anyone else touch it.”

Luna pulled up, slammed on the brakes and gravel flew from her back tire. She cut the engine, climbed off, and slapped her hands on her hips, looking delighted. Poppy knew her well enough to know that a happy Luna was one about to cause trouble. “Excellent, you’re all here!” she said, her voice booming. Walking over to them, she plopped herself down next to Poppy and rested her wrists on her knees.

“Luna, you cannot ride without a helmet,” Hayes stated, frustrated.

“Pfft, the goddess protects me.”

“If that’s true, then the goddess protects stupid people,” Hayes retorted.

Luna whirled around to glare at him, Hayes glared back, and Poppy sighed. Luna and Hayes reminded her of two massive bison bumping heads. It would be interesting to see who won the battle for the soul of the Thanksgiving football match. Luna was sneaky, manipulative, and charming, and not above using the odd spell to get her way. But Hayes was as stubborn as hell. The odds were even.

Thom stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles. “Two questions, Luna… Do you want a beer? And why are you here?”

“No to the beer, I’m on a detox diet. No alcohol, sugar, carbs, or dairy.”

“Basically, all the joys of life,” Wren muttered, just low enough for Poppy to hear. “She’s currently a monster. But she’ll only last another day, at most, before she caves.”

Luna swatted Wren’s knee. “I heard that, and I will complete the three-week program!”

“You so won’t,” Wren countered.

Growing up, Poppy recalled Luna attempting the Atkins diet, the cabbage-soup diet, the water-diet, and more, and knew Wren was right. Luna had, maybe, another twelve hours of willpower left before she reached for a candy bar and a glass of wine.

“As for my visit,” Luna declared, reaching into the back pocket of her camouflage cargo pants and removing an envelope, “I came to give you these.”

Oh, crap. At this time of the year, envelopes usually contained tickets, and tickets meant that Luna expected them to attend a Halloween-related town event. And judging by Luna’s already stubborn expression, she was expecting resistance, which meant that the event would be something they’d normally avoid. A séance? A coven meeting? A session with a psychic?

“They are tickets for the Witching Hour Singles Social.”

“No,” Thom stated outright.

Hayes shook his head. “Nope from me.”

“I’m in a relationship, Luna, with the man you call your godson-in-law,” Wren said, with a self-satisfied smirk.