Unmasked Desire (Love Demands a Holiday Book 6) Read online

  But then, as the photos started to feature people, I realized what the theme was. Demons and devils of all shapes and sizes, dancing together, laughing over punch, chatting. And almost all of them in masks.

  Why did there have to be masks?

  I closed the folder and pushed it across the table. “The next one?”

  She picked it up but didn’t hand it to me. “You really don’t have to go through all of these. They’re all a lot of the same.”

  “If I don’t know what other years have done, how am I supposed to compare?”

  “I think you’ve seen enough. It’s all streamers, balloons, punch, and some theme for costumes.” Tru pulled the file back toward her chest again. “Why torture yourself?”

  “I need to see.” To try to numb myself to the masks, to the friends hiding their faces, to people pretending to be something they aren’t. “I’m not going to get ridiculed for repeating a theme or not living up to expectations. I have to see what’s been done before. I can’t repeat a theme and I need this party to be just as grand.” I reached for the folder. “You don’t have to protect me, Tru.”

  “Okay.” She pushed the whole pile across the table. “But I’m not going to sit here and watch you torture yourself.”

  Watching her get up and walk to the door, I wondered if I was making a mistake. But if I couldn’t even stomach pictures of people wearing masks, how would I manage an entire night of masked men asking me to dance, offering me punch, or even just coming up to talk to me?

  Tru’s hand froze on the door handle. “I’ll bring you a fresh cup of coffee, and send the intern to get your dry cleaning, so you can change before your next meeting.”

  “Thank you, Tru. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She waved off the compliment and headed out, leaving me alone with the stacks of photos.

  The first folder on the stack wasn’t half bad. It looked like the theme two years ago had been superheroes. It wasn’t as hard to handle when everyone was dressed up as saviors in capes.

  The next one slowed everything around me, and the light darkened, my vision grew a little fuzzy. Clowns.

  With a rush of adrenaline, I slammed the file shut and slid it as far across the table as I could.

  Then, dolls. Seriously, what twisted predecessor of mine thought dolls would be anything other than creepy? I supposed it had been the point, but yuck!

  By the time Tru came back with a fresh coffee and a change of clothes, my stomach was in knots and my hands were shaking. Why did I think I could handle this? Why had I gone for Mayor at all, when I knew sooner or later, I’d have to deal with Halloween?

  An entire career destroyed because of a stupid child’s holiday. Perhaps I was exaggerating, but the mayor of Jubilee Falls needed to be able to throw a simple Halloween party. After that it was a Thanksgiving parade, and then the foray of food holidays through December right up the winter ball and then a New Year’s party. My calendar was full through the rest of the year and it would start all over again come January. This wasn’t even going to be my only Halloween. I had to get through this.

  “How’s it going?”

  “I don’t know, Tru. How did the other mayors pick themes? And why does it always have to be something creepy?”

  “Contrary to your beliefs, not everyone finds clowns and dolls as creepy as you do.” She sat across from me and sipped from her own coffee. “You don’t have to do this. I can pick a theme, say the edict came from you, and no one would ever be the wiser.” She smirked. “Or we could call in an expert.”

  “An expert? There’s a Halloween party expert on staff?” Why was I not surprised? Mrs. Laningham and Mr. Davenport were the Founders’ Day experts; Mr. Marshall knew everything there was to know about May Day. Of course, there was a Halloween expert.

  “Not on staff, exactly. But he does the best haunted house in town every year, and he always has original ideas for giving kids small frights.”

  She didn’t have to say his name for me to know exactly who she was talking about. Colton Black, child psychologist and Halloween enthusiast. His reputation proceeded him, and I was not interested in meeting some creepy old man who had a fetish of scaring people of all ages.

  I thought it was a little ridiculous for him to cause trauma, just to claim to solve it, but what did I know? “No. We’re not calling him.”

  “Why not? He’d be able to do everything you’re looking for. A fresh take on decorations, maybe even ideas on theme. He’d probably even go pick out costumes for you, since I know it’s going to be worse than trying to drag a mule anywhere.”

  Oh, God. I was going to have to go to Bizarro’s and pick out a costume for whatever crazy theme I came up with.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, let’s order in lunch, talk about the rest of my schedule for the afternoon, and maybe spitball around a few ideas for the theme.”

  An hour and a half later, I was no closer to a theme than I was yesterday.

  “That was six years ago,” Tru said.

  “Who remembers a party from six years ago?” I stomped my foot like a petulant child.

  “Jubilee Falls, Mayor.”

  All I’d managed to do was get more and more frustrated with the whole thing. Whose idea was Halloween anyway?

  “Why don’t we just throw everyone off, and have a Christmas party instead? I can handle elves and Santa Claus. Hell, I’d even dress up as Mrs. Claus, if it meant I didn’t have to plan this party anymore.”

  “While the Davenports would, I’m sure, be more than happy to celebrate any holiday, at any time, the Halloween masquerade is a tradition. One everyone in town looks forward to, except for you.” She picked up her phone and her thumb hopped all over the screen and then she turned it toward me. “We can still call Colton.”

  I frowned. Calling him would be admitting defeat. It would mean giving into my fear, into all the bad memories that just wouldn’t quite go away. “Wait. All these years of parties, a whole stack of photos, and none of them were simple. Why don’t we go for a real masquerade? The old-timey outfits, gilded masks?” Okay, I didn’t know for sure if I could handle gilded masks any better than I did clowns, but it was worth a shot. And at least it would be a classy affair.

  “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. What exactly are you thinking?”

  I pursed my lips and tapped my fingers on the table. “I don’t know, exactly. It’s just a thought. Barely an idea.”

  “It’s a good one, though. We just need to work on developing it.” Tru got up from the table and stretched. “Now, will you let me call Colton?”

  “Why? I came up with a theme.” I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes at her. “If you really think he can help, I’ll at least meet with him.”

  Really, I had to agree he was probably the best person in town for the job, even if I’d never say it out loud.

  He loved Halloween. Everything about it—the costumes, the decorations, the scary stories and the creepy monsters. He probably even had a thing for masks. And he’d probably have ideas I couldn’t even begin to think of, if today’s brainstorming session was any indication.

  But it still didn’t mean I’d have to like the guy, or his stance on the holiday.

  3

  Angela

  Pulling up to Colton Black’s house, regret filled my gut.

  It was only the first week of October, and already his house was crawling with skeletons. Literally crawling. Smaller ones wrapped around the mailbox and the porch railing. Larger ones hung off the side of the house and the roof. There was even one sticking halfway out of a flowerbed, reaching for the walkway like it was waiting to attack.

  The whole thing gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  Why couldn’t we have scheduled this meeting for my office, or even his? Why did I agree to meet this Halloween nut, at his creepy, oversized, haunted-looking house?

  I shook my head and picked up my handbag. I made this appointment, and I wa
s going to keep it, if only to prove to Tru and the constituents I could put on a killer Halloween party.

  The lights and noises coming from the garage, however, made me want to turn on my heels and run.

  The scream of a saw.

  The click of a torch being lit.

  Sparks flying.

  Every step closer to the garage incited a new, terrifying sensation.

  My heart pounded in my chest.

  My palms were sweating.

  My knees knocked together like a pair of castanets.

  Nothing in my body wanted me to round that corner.

  But I forced my feet forward. Up the driveway. Into the garage.

  To face my fears.

  Colton Black looked like something out of my nightmares.

  His back was to the open garage door, and from where I stood, he looked like a giant mad scientist. Torch in one hand, red hot metal in the other, he was much bigger than I would’ve imagined. The dark red and green striped sweater pulled tight over his shoulders, and the thick band in his dark brown hair that could only be some sort of mask made my stomach twist.

  Sparks flew from the metal contraption he was working on, the sound of popping and groaning echoing around the enclosed space as he shaped the metal to his whim.

  God, why did I think meeting him was a good idea? He was probably going to murder me and make me part of his decorations. No one would even believe I was really dead until after Halloween.

  The torch shut off, and slowly, the big, hulking giant of a man turned around.

  “Oh, Mayor Bartell, I didn’t hear you come up.” He pushed up the welding mask, revealing icy blue eyes and a grin that could warm the coldest autumn night.

  “You’re clearly busy. Maybe we should just reschedule this for another time.” Like the third Saturday of never. “I’ll just get out of your hair.”

  He set down the torch and pulled off the gloves. “No, I was just waiting for you to show up, doing a little work on the house.” He extended his hand, and that’s when I saw it.

  The blood.

  All over his sweater.

  “What… what is that?” Please say anything but blood. Please. Anything.

  Colton looked down and laughed. He actually laughed. “I guess I’ve ruined my sweater. Although, I guess Freddy would approve.” He reached down and gripped the bottom of the shirt, pulling it up over his head. Tossing it aside, he shrugged. “The risk of working with fake blood.”

  I swallowed around the rapid heartbeat in my throat. How was he hiding all of that under a baggy, hideous sweater? The man looked like he should be on display in the Louvre, not a mad scientist’s garage, with all those carved muscles. That white tank top wasn’t hiding anything. “Freddy?”

  “Krueger? Tell me you’ve seen the classics.”

  At the shaking of my head, he groaned. “Okay, we’re going inside, and I’m not letting you out again until you’ve seen at least three classic Halloween horror movies.”

  No. No, no, no, no. My mind screamed at me to run, to get as far away from this blood splattered stranger as fast as I could. “I don’t really think that would be the best use of our time, Mr. Black.” I prayed that the tremble in my voice was all in my head, not coming out of my mouth.

  “And how exactly do you suggest we spend our time, Mayor? Tru was a little vague as to why you wanted to meet.” Had he moved closer, or was I imagining things?

  I wiped my hands on the front of my slacks, glad I’d opted for the black ones today. Hopefully then Colton Black wouldn’t be able to see the sweat streaks left by my palms. “I was hoping you’d be willing to discuss the Halloween party with me.” I swallowed hard, trying to dissolve the lump growing in my dry throat. “Clearly, you’re interested in all this horror stuff, and I think you could be an asset to the planning committee.”

  “No.” He shook his head, and pulled on his gloves again, as if this was the final word.

  But it couldn’t be. If he didn’t help me with this stupid dance, how was it going to happen? I couldn’t plan it alone. I couldn’t stomach going to all those shops, picking out gruesome decorations and costumes.

  “No? Are you kidding me? This is your passion, your love, and you’re just going to turn your back on this town? Because you what? Want to hide out in your garage playing with your little monster toys and fake blood?”

  Colton spun around, the torch in his hand glowing a small, blue flame, and his mask back in place again. Why did I provoke him? What was I thinking?

  I clenched my fists, ready to run as fast as I could in my stilettos.

  “First of all, Mayor, I didn’t make a promise to this town. I’m not obligated to this masquerade, or anyone who attends it.” He turned the torch off but didn’t remove his mask. The full-face mask distorted his voice. Made it sound deeper, more threatening. “And second, I am not hiding out, or playing with toys. This is how I celebrate all this horror stuff. If you don’t like it, you can go put on whatever party you want. But I won’t be a part of it.”

  I held his gaze, or where I assumed his gaze should be, even though my breakfast was threatening to make a reappearance. “Look, Mr. Black, I’m not going to pretend I understand your love of Halloween, or any of the crap you have going on in this garage. But I know this town, and I know how much town events mean to the people who live here. Including this Halloween Masquerade. I don’t know if you grew up here, or if you moved here as an adult, or what, but parties like this make or break a reputation. I want to do good for this town, for the people of Jubilee Falls. And I can’t do it if I can’t pull off this damned masquerade.” I sighed and looked away. “Halloween isn’t my thing. I can handle every other festival and party and tradition this town can throw at me. But I can’t do this on my own. I can’t handle the blood and the guts and the monsters and the masks. You clearly love it. All I’m asking for is a little help.”

  Colton sighed and lifted his mask, finally revealing his face to me again. “I’m not promising anything yet. But you look like you could use a cup of tea, and somewhere to sit that’s not covered in half-finished props.”

  4

  Colton

  There was something very wrong with Mayor Bartell.

  Everything about her was projecting fear responses.

  Widened pupils. Sweaty palms she kept wiping on her pants. Tense jaw. A tremble in her voice, even though she was trying to hide it.

  If she were one of the kids I worked with, I’d sit her down, coax out every fear she’d ever had, and we’d work through them.

  But she wasn’t some little girl.

  The way she filled out her sweater, the way her slacks hugged her hips, the cocky, surefire attitude she had when she wasn’t trembling… Angela Bartell was definitely not a little girl. She was a woman, and one I normally would’ve wanted to get to know a lot better.

  I couldn’t just jump into something with a woman who hated Halloween. She might as well have just spit in my face.

  “Come on, it’s going to be easier to go through the back.”

  Her face contorted, as if just the idea of going into the house with me caused her physical pain.

  “It’s just tea. Or coffee, if you prefer. You look like you’re going to pass out on me, Mayor, and I wouldn’t be a very good host if I let you collapse in my garage.”

  She glanced back at her car, like she was going to make a run for it. I half-expected her to, with her wide, deer-in-the-headlights eyes. “Okay. Coffee would be nice.”

  That’s what she needed, something to make her more tense. I was tempted to spike it with a sedative.

  “Let’s go around through the back. The front porch and foyer are a mess right now, full of all this, what did you call it? Crap?” I smirked, trying to get her to relax, to let down whatever guards she’d thrown up, which clearly rivaled The Great Wall of China.

  But the Mayor wasn’t having it. “I’m not going to apologize. Half the stuff in this place looks like it came out of a junk yard.
”

  She wasn’t wrong. Stacks of hubcaps, old tires, bed frames, anything I could find that could be repurposed into a horror element was scattered around the garage. And the backyard. The front porch. The family room. “Dirt doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  “It’s not the dirt I’m worried about.” She didn’t expound any further, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the fake blood and guts, or if she was a germ-a-phobe, afraid of catching something from all my junk.

  “Just watch where you step out there.” I gestured toward the open garage door. “It’s a maze.” I raised an eyebrow at her, teasing a little.

  She stomped forward, her heels clacking against the cement angrily, as if she was trying to prove she wasn’t scared, but each step grew a little more unsure, and her hand lingered on the latch to the gate. “Maybe you should lead the way. If it’s really as treacherous as you claim.”

  I grinned. “Oh, no, I really think you should go first.” I knew I was pushing her boundaries, but she’d called Halloween crap. It was warranted. And it wasn’t like there was anything dangerous, just some good-natured fun and thrills.

  Angela pulled the gate open, a snarl of determination and annoyance on her face, as she strode through into the mess that would, in just a few weeks, be the coolest haunted house in town.

  I should’ve probably warned her what she’d be getting into, but Angela was intent on proving she could handle herself. I wouldn’t stand in her way.

  And, there might’ve been a part of me that wanted to see her reaction. She would be the first to see the new set up, and something told me her impressions would be memorable.

  The first device she came to had a buried pressure plate, just under the surface. There was no way she’d be able to see it.

  Or avoid it.

  I stayed a few steps back, watching with a smirk as her toe lowered onto the activation plate.

  The growl started first.