Page 17 of A Very Grumpy Halloween

“That’s a good point.”

I start cutting up the vegetables and tossing them in olive oil and spices before I slide the tray into the oven.

“I just need to go start the grill,” I say, excusing myself.

I head out to the deck and start the grill. Once it’s hot enough, I put the chicken on the grill and head back inside to Maple.

Maple is sitting at the kitchen table, watching me with a soft smile as I walk back in. Something about seeing her here, in my home, makes everything feel right.

“You know, I never imagined you as someone who could cook,” she teases, her eyes sparkling.

I laugh as I grab a bottle of olive oil to brush on the chicken. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

“I’m starting to believe that,” she says, her tone light but her gaze lingering on me in a way that makes my heart race.

As I move around the kitchen and outside, flipping the chicken and checking on the vegetables, I keep stealing glances at her. She looks so comfortable here, so at ease, and it makes me want to keep her here as long as possible. Finally, the food is done, and I plate everything, bringing it over to the table.

“Dinner is served,” I say, setting the plates down.

“This looks amazing,” she says, her voice filled with genuine surprise as she digs in. “And it tastes even better.”

I smile, watching her enjoy the meal.

“What do you usually like to eat?” I ask her as I dig in.

“I usually just make sandwiches or some kind of frozen meal. Olive is the one who likes cooking, and she was always around to cook for us growing up. I guess I was spoiled.”

“I can teach you a few things. Or you’re always welcome over here when you’re hungry.”

“I might just take you up on that,” she says as she eats another piece of chicken.

When the meal is over and the plates are cleared, there's a comfortable silence that settles between us, the kind that feels intimate, like we don’t need to fill it with words.

I stand by the counter, watching her as she finishes her water. The dim light of the kitchen casts a warm glow around her, making her look even more beautiful, if that’s even possible.

Without thinking, I move towards her, taking her hand and pulling her gently out of the chair. She stands up slowly, her eyes widening just a little as I guide her closer.

“Maple,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion.

She looks up at me, her breath catching, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. The only sound in the room is the soft hum of the refrigerator, and all I can focus on is the way her hand feels in mine, the way her lips part slightly as she stares up at me.

I can’t wait any longer. I cup her face with both hands and bring my lips down to hers. The kiss starts slow and soft, like before, but this time, there's a hunger behind it. She melts into me, her hands sliding up my chest and around my neck as I pull her closer, deepening the kiss.

Her body presses against mine, and I can feel her heart racing in time with mine. The kitchen around us fades, and all I can think about is how right this feels—her in my arms, her lips on mine.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing hard. She looks up at me with those wide green eyes, and I smile softly.

There’s something in her eyes, a glint of lust, and I swallow hard as I stare down at her.

“Maple,” I whisper, and she licks her lips.

“I want you,” she whispers, and my grip on her tightens.

I’m about to ask her if she’s sure and assure her that I’m not in any rush, but before I can, Maple takes a step back and pulls off her shirt.

My mouth drops open as I take her in.

“Fuck me,” I whisper, and she laughs.

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