Page 41 of Hot Ghoul Summer

“I’ll show you. Or not.” He breaks into sobs again.

Toby won the bet. Even for a nurse who hates it when a patient passes away, I could see that to Gladys, it was such a joy and relief. She was ready to go. She wasn’t leaving this world as much as rejoining the people who made it worth staying in. Without them, she was ready to move on.

It’s funny, but seeing Toby do the thing I thought I would hate him for has just made me fall the tiniest bit in love with him.

It hits hard and fast, like the pinch of a needle, and suddenly he’s flowing through my veins, invading my heart.

“You owe me a date,” I whisper.

He gasps and straightens up. “Really? Even after I blubbed all over you?”

“Especially after that. I hope your house makes a mean pitcher of margaritas.”

Chapter Eleven: Never Tell a Reaper You Love Him On the First Date

“What... What is that?”

“Um. Tiki bar, I reckon.”

When we return to the kitchen of Toby’s vacation home, the house looks different. The plain rectangular table, gray and blue counter and paint scheme, and electric kettle and tin of biscuits are all gone. Instead, there’s a soft, tropical breeze, a wooden bartop with two frosty glasses, and palms and hibiscus everywhere.

I swallow as Toby opens the doors that lead down to the beach. “Yep. There are tiki torches out back, and the lawn’s gone all sandy. I think the house likes you. Prob’ly because I like you.”

Nodding, I move to the bar and grab our drinks. Sizzling skewers of meat and grilled pineapple are waiting beside it. My stomach suddenly growls. “Hungry?”

“Mmhm. Is this your dream date?” Toby demands.

I grab a skewer. “Sort of? I’ve always wanted to go someplace tropical and finally managed it last year for Spring Break. It was nothing like I pictured. It was one long, loud, drunken party.”

“Not much of a date?” Toby joins me, back in his customary black hoodie. I think black is his color. He looks pale, but the pale and the dark colors—well, they work on him.

“I met a guy. We got together.” I lace my fingers together with a pointed look. “But he didn’t stick around until breakfast. It wasn’t like I wanted my trip to be boring, but I wanted it to be something special and memorable. Something I’d never forget in a good way.” I wince. I will never forget waking up to a puddle of bright green puke.

I bet it was all the guacamole and green Jell-O shots...

“I like this place—when you’re in it. I’ve never been one for the tropics. I’ve been in England or the Eastern United States for my whole unlife. I’ve worked in a bunch of different areas, but this one the longest. Every few decades, I get restless, but I haven’t felt the urge to move on from here.” He looks at me. “I know why Pine Ridge and the surrounding areas never bored me.”

“Sera and someone who breeds half-hellhounds?” I asked.

“Not just that. I was waiting to meet you.” Toby takes my hand and spins me. Somewhere in the distance, a steel band starts to play.

“That’s not in my perfect date,” I warn him.

“It’s in mine. My perfect date is when you think it’s a perfect date.”

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