Page 34 of Tackle

“Oh, believe me, I’m completely enthralled.”

Chuckling to himself, he stuck his head back in the chimney to seal the crack he’d noticed.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“A few years,” he answered, his voice resonating around him.

“I guess I don’t understand why you're not living in one yourself?”

He pulled his head out of the fireplace and looked at her. “I will when the time is right.” He stood, plucking his shirt off the floor and slipping into it.

Emerson stood to meet him in the center of the room.

“I feel about that the way I feel about us. I’m building something special here,” he laid his hand over her heart. “I’m laying a solid foundation so that as it grows, it only gets stronger. Rush things and something vital might get missed and the whole thing will come toppling down. I don’t want to risk that. Not with you.”

He looked down on her. Saw her slightly misty eyes and parted lips. He cupped her neck, his thumb stroking along her jaw and leaned in to kiss her.

But their lips never quite met.

The moment was shattered by a commotion at the door announcing the inspector’s arrival.

Chapter Twelve

“It’s stupid how excited I am.” Emerson clutched Oz’s hand while practically skipping through the parking lot, Oz’s long strides easily keeping up with her.

With only a few days before Halloween, the fairgrounds had been converted for Horror Nights. Emerson had been looking forward to going since they announced its opening. Halloween was Emerson’s favorite holiday and she had spent the past week decking the pub out in all the tacky decorations she’d been saving over the years. Hanging witches that, when activated, flew around in a circle on their broomsticks. Cardboard cutouts of ghosts, goblins, and monsters. Plastic pumpkins filled with candy treats. She’d even persuaded Oz into carving jack-o'-lanterns with her.

“I can tell.” Oz flashed her a grin.

“Have you ever been?” Emerson asked.

“Not here, but we had something similar back in my home town. I went to it once when I was a kid.”

“Well, this place has it all. Not only is there a killer haunted house, but there’s also a corn maze, pumpkin patch, hayrides, and all the best carnival food.”

“I like carnival food.”

“You like all food,” she teased.

Tickets in hand, Emerson handed them over to the waiting attendant, dressed in a skull mask and robe, then passed through the turnstile.

“They really outdid themselves this year.” Dilapidated shacks lined the main street which zombies lumberingly shuffled through, their clothes ragged and with blood dripping down their chins. In the background, eerie music played, adding to the spooky atmosphere.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have joked about the zombie apocalypse.” Oz craned his neck to keep the zombies in sight until they’d passed.

They strolled hand-in-hand deeper into the fairgrounds, Emerson leading them toward the haunted house.

“Your disguise seems to be working,” she said while they waited in line.

They’d both agreed it would be fun and beneficial if they dressed in costumes. Oz went as Batman in a cowl mask that covered all but his mouth. He paired that with a cape over a black t-shirt and jeans and wore matching black sneakers.

Emerson, on the other hand, coming from work, dressed a little less flamboyantly while still matching the theme. For her costume, she’d added ears and a tail to a black sweatshirt and jeans, drew some whiskers on with eyeliner and, voila, she was Catwoman.

“I’d be very surprised if anyone recognized me. The only things visible are my mouth and chin.”

“I’d know it was you.”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyes seared into hers through the slits of his mask. “How?”

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