But over the past decade—and after a series of mayors like Jane—Graves Glen had transformed itself into a Halloween hotspot. There was the name, of course, but also the whole charming small town thing, the trees glowing bright orange, the apple orchards just on the edge of the village. And since Founder’s Day was October thirteenth, it had slowly morphed into the natural starting point of their busiest season.
Sorry, Gryffud.
There were already booths set up selling everything from candy apples to “Halloween trees,” little miniature Christmas trees painted black and decorated with wooden pumpkins, witch hats and ghosts.
Vivi waved at several people she knew, including Ezi, who was buying a giant bag of kettle corn with her boyfriend, Stuart, and kept her eyes peeled for that familiar lanky gait, that rumpled hair, those broad shoulders.
Finally, just when she was about to think he might actually be in a bear’s stomach somewhere between her aunt’s cabin and the bottom of the mountain, Vivi spotted him.
He was standing just outside Coffee Cauldron, a truly enormous paper cup in hand, and as Vivi approached, he pulled the coffee in even closer.
“Vivienne, I have already had a morning; if you’re here to attempt to kill me again, I warn you, it will be very unsporting of you.”
His eyes were hidden by sunglasses despite the gray day, a look that would’ve been douchey on any other man, but one that he was, unsurprisingly, pulling off.
It helped that the rest of his outfit was equally great. Gray trousers, a white button-down unbuttoned just so, a deep charcoal vest and around his neck, a silver pendant with a dark purple jewel.
Vivi had a sudden, explicit memory of that same pendant dangling against her chest as he’d moved above her, inside her, and felt her face flame hot.
She hadn’t even liked jewelry on men before him, but that necklace suited him, the delicacy of the chain emphasizing the width of his chest, the adornment making him somehow more masculine, not less.
Rhys sipped his coffee and didn’t say anything, but she felt like he probably knew what she was thinking.
Which might have been why her tone was a little sharp when she said, “You need to go to the welcome booth.”
He pulled a face. “The fuck is that?”
Rolling her eyes, Vivi took him by the elbow, steering him away from the coffee shop and toward the row of tents set up in the side street between Something Wicked and The Written Wyrd.
“The mayor is freaking out that you haven’t checked in yet, so go check in.”
“Were you worried?” he asked, and she didn’t like how delighted he sounded. “Did you think I’d died? Did you think your callous actions had resulted in my death?”
“I think you need to go check in, make your speech and go home, Rhys.”
He stopped, pulling them up short, and as he turned to look at her, Rhys reached up to slide his sunglasses down his nose.
“I need to check in, make my speech and charge the ley lines. Then I can go home.”
Vivi could feel a few heads turn their way. She only spotted a handful of other witches in the crowd, people she knew from the college, so most of the people looking at them had no idea who Rhys was. He was just the kind of person who attracted stares.
She’d really liked that about him. Once.
Now, she leaned in and said, “Okay, maybe don’t announce that to the whole town and half the tourists in Georgia, but yes, that, and then home. The going home part is really what I want you to focus on.”
Vivi went to tug him back down the street again, but he stood firm, and she’d forgotten that for someone who looked so rangy, he was a pretty solid guy. He definitely wasn’t moving.