Red Hot Night (Trick or Treat Collaboration)

“Um…hello,” I mutter, wearing only Everett’s long-sleeved dress shirt and suddenly feeling foolish.

“Oh, hello, dear. I’m Mrs. Ingles. I’m Mr. Williams’s housekeeper. I came over as he requested with some things for you. You must be the lovely Ms. Lena.”

He had her bring me new clothes? I’m insanely embarrassed. “I am. Sorry. This is not like me.” I pointed to my outfit.

“I know, sweetie. It’s written in your eyes. Besides, after working for the past five years for him, I’ve never seen him this happy and never seen someone running around in his clothes.”

“Do you know where Everett is?”

“He’s in his office on the phone with his grandfather.” Seeing my confusion as I look around completely lost, she adds, “It’s down the hall and to the left. I’ll be making some lunch for you both before I head out.”

“Oh. Thank you. I could really use some food.” The woman reminds me of my mother. I haven’t talked to her since I got out of the hospital. She’s in the middle of a missionary project in South America with my father. Of course they wanted to fly out and come to see me, but I didn’t want them to hover. They love what they do, but I’ve never been the one to want to live in dangerous parts of the world surrounded by the sick. I tried when I was a teen, and I cried my heart out watching these people die in front of me.

“Why don’t you come in the kitchen and grab a snack before you change?”

“Thanks. I could use something.” I follow her inside the kitchen, which of course is spectacular. Like seriously the most amazing kitchen I’ve ever seen. I can’t even imagine that Everett wants to share this with me.

“There’s plenty of snacks. I don’t know where Everett puts it all, but he loves chocolate.”

“Nice.” I pull out a package of Hostess Cupcakes and take one. I peel off the frosting in one giant piece, saving it for last as I eat the cupcake. I’m glad Everett helped me burn a bunch of calories last night and this morning. I’ve earned this sweet treat.

“Speaking of treats…will there be trick or treaters later?” I ask, eating the frosting.

“Oh yes. The candy is already set up at the front door.”

“Thank you.”

I scurry off with the bag from the local dress shop called Vivian’s. I sneak back up to the bedroom because I don’t want to be caught by any kids looking for candy.

I pull out the clothes and gasp at the perfect green dress that matches my eyes. It reminds me of a modern version of a nineteen fifties dress. And this one covers my ass!

I don’t have any makeup with me, so I’m going to have to go as is. Inside the bag is also some feminine things including a brush and hair ties. I don’t know whose idea it was, but I love them for it. I braid my long auburn hair to hide the scar like I did yesterday, and I feel so special.

Now to go find my man.

Chapter Eleven

Everett

“Ah, there you are. Fuck. Mrs. Ingles needs a raise.” The view in front of me is undeniably sexy. She’s wholesome and wicked all in one.

“You like it?” She grabs the hem with a shy look in her eyes. Her long dark red hair is braided, hiding her scar again. I’ve already been working on that matter since I’ve been in my office. I want to do more, but the police are pretty busy today. Holidays tend to be hell for most police forces around the country, especially the CPD. I left a message because I’m going to offer my resources to help find out who did this to my woman.

I smile at her because it’s all I can do with my dick stealing all my brain power. “Like is an understatement. Come here.” I can’t move from behind my desk. “Uncle, tell Grandpa I’ll call him back,” I mutter into the phone, ending the call without waiting for a reply.

“You didn’t have to hang up because of me.”

“Yes. I. Did. I don’t want to waste a minute of our time together.” Once Monday comes, both of us will be busy with work and school.

“I just wanted to tell you the food is ready. Mrs. Ingles really knows how to cook.”

“Great. I could eat a cow right now.” I could eat her up as well, but I’ll save her sweet pussy for dessert. “I see you met the housekeeper.” I follow her out and take her hand in mine as we make our way to the kitchen.

“Yes, she’s a sweet woman.”

“Thanks. She only comes to tidy up the place, check the mail, or when I come to stay for a while, she prepares some meals.”

As we enter the kitchen, Mrs. Ingles is setting out some plates. “Why, Everett, you look so handsome today. I wonder where that smile has been hiding.”