Her Halloween Treat (Men at Work 1)

She dropped the phone onto the sofa like it had burned her. The buzzing continued. At the front door she heard Chris’s footsteps and then a soft knocking. Joey looked at the ringing phone. She turned and looked at the door. Her heart raced. Ben was calling her. For what? To scream at her? To apologize? To explain himself? To beg her not to tell HR on them? If he was calling her, he had something to say.

Joey picked up the phone off the couch and hit Decline.

Then she dropped it back on the coffee table and answered the door.

Ben could go fuck himself. He certainly wasn’t going to get to fuck her anymore.

And speaking of fucking...

Joey answered the door and let Chris inside.

10

FOR THE EIGHTH morning in a row, Chris woke up in Joey’s bed, although in his mind it was his bed since he’d made it with his own hands. A nice thought, Joey sleeping in his bed every single night. He did have his own bed at his place in Portland, but he much preferred staying with Joey in the cabin. It was closer to work, closer to the mountain and closer to every teenage dream he’d ever had about her. Back in high school he’d spent most of winter break here with them and most of summer break, too. This room had contained two sets of bunk beds and he and Dillon shared one and Joey took the other. Since she slept on the top bunk, Chris had, too, for no other reason that when the moon was bright or if he woke up early enough to catch the morning sun, he could see her sleeping not six feet away from him. He’d had a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt she’d latched on to for some reason and slept in it whenever she could steal it from the clean laundry basket. Maybe she’d just liked the color, although he pretended what she liked was the owner. When he saw her those summer mornings wearing his T-shirt, red-faced and rumpled and with a pillow over her eyes, he could pretend for a few seconds she was his girlfriend and this was their bedroom in their house and she loved him as much as he loved her, wanted him as much as he wanted her. Sadly, that particular erotic and romantic fantasy evaporated when Dillon let one rip in the middle of the night, which was when Chris regretted asking for the top bunk as both heat and horrible smells rose.

Upon reflection, watching Joey sleep as a teenager was a little creepy. He could admit that to himsel

f. He made a lot of bad decisions at age seventeen and creeping on his best friend’s sister was one of them. Of course now he was twenty-eight, and he was still watching her sleep. He couldn’t blame that on being a horny lovesick teenager anymore. He had to blame it on being a horny lovesick grown man.

It was the eighth morning he’d spent the night in her bed, therefore it was the eighth morning in a row he’d had to stop himself from telling her the truth. He was falling in love with her already. Already and again. High school was ancient history so he tried to pretend his feelings were, too. But Mount Hood had sprung up five hundred thousand years ago, which made it ancient history, right? Yet there it was, its snowcap peeking above the treetops. Ancient history or not, it was there and undeniable. He could no more pretend he hadn’t fallen back in love with Joey than he could pretend they weren’t sleeping in a house on an active volcano. And something had to blow and soon because Joey was leaving in three days. Today was Thursday. The wedding was Saturday on Halloween. And Joey flew back to Hawaii on Sunday.

So he had all of today, Friday and Saturday to talk her into staying.

But first, he had to wake her up. He’d learned quickly the best way to wake Joey from a deep sleep was for him to leave the bed and start cooking breakfast. Poking and prodding and whispering would only elicit a groan from her before she flopped over onto her stomach and went immediately back to sleep.

If he cooked bacon, however...

No better alarm clock in the world.

Chris carefully slid Joey’s arm off his stomach. She had an adorable habit of resting an arm or a leg across him while they slept. Well, it was adorable until he had to get out of bed to piss or go to work. Then it made the process slightly harrowing. He wanted to believe that the only sort of woman who would hold him in her sleep was a woman who was maybe possibly a little bit in love with him, too. Or maybe she was just one of those women who was always cold and therefore only used his naked body as a heat source. He’d assume the latter and hope for the former.

With good luck and good technique, Chris managed to slide out of bed without pulling Joey or the covers to the floor. She muttered something about it being too early before rolling over and going back to sleep again. He stood there a moment by the bed and took in the view. The view from the window was a sight to behold—lush, deep green fir trees, cottonwoods bright yellow in the morning sunlight, the white of the peak of Mount Hood and the moss growing on every tree trunk in sight. But none of that compared to the view inside the window, the view of Joey on her side, her beautiful naked back exposed and her hair lying wild on the pillow.

“I’m going to marry you by next Halloween,” he said softly enough he knew she wouldn’t hear even if she was awake.

Why did he promise he wouldn’t try to make her stay?

Oh, yeah, because she wouldn’t sleep with him if he didn’t. She was right, though. She shouldn’t be making huge decisions like quitting her job and moving so shortly after a breakup. He wasn’t about to try to talk her into that. What he could do, however, was seduce her. Seduce her not for sex—that was already happening, a lot—but seduce her into staying. He wouldn’t say a word about it. He’d let his seduction skills do the convincing and then Joey would decide to stay all on her own.

He’d start the seduction with bacon.

Chris pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt, and turned the heat up in the house. They both liked to sleep in a cool room under blankets. They didn’t need the heat on to stay warm at night, anyway. They had each other for that.

Chris grinned to himself as he started cooking breakfast. He’d been grinning a lot lately, probably more in the past six days than in the last six months combined. All thanks to Joey and her sweet sexy self. Instead of spending her vacation hiking or biking or doing whatever people on vacations did—he wouldn’t know as he hadn’t taken one in four years—she came to work with him for part of the day and spent the rest of the day helping Dillon and Oscar with wedding stuff. She’d always been kind and selfless. She might tease Dillon and Oscar about getting married on her birthday but he knew she didn’t care. She said she’d shared her birthday with Halloween and millions of trick-or-treaters every single year so it wasn’t like she ever thought she owned the day. When she said she couldn’t think of a better way to spend her birthday than watching her big brother get married to the love of his life, Chris knew she meant it.

“Is that bacon I smell?” Joey asked from the doorway. She had on his black-and-yellow checkered flannel shirt and slouchy mismatched wool socks and nothing else from what he could tell. One cheek bore a nice long pillow crease, and she’d pulled her hair back into a messy loose ponytail. Under her eyes were smudges left from eye makeup. He’d never seen a more beautiful sexy woman in all his born days.

“Bacon and eggs.”

“You spoil me.”

“It’s what I was put on earth to do.” He kissed her cheek as she leaned in to smell breakfast in the iron skillet.

“I’m starting to believe that.”

She patted him on the ass as she went to the coffee pot for “fuel,” as she called it. Fueling up, refueling, out of fuel. He was quickly learning all her quirks and habits. She couldn’t go to sleep without flossing first no matter how tired she was. If she didn’t she said she’d dream of her teeth falling out. She called all dogs, no matter how young or old, big or small, “puppies.” When cleaning or doing laundry she sang Adele songs, just Adele. No one else. And she sang them badly. Very badly. She hated cilantro in her food, loved hot sauce on her eggs and would drive an hour just to get Stumptown Coffee Roasters coffee when they ran out of it. Rocket fuel, she called it. Her favorite.

“What are we doing today?” she asked between sips of rocket fuel.