Page 25 of Midnight Masquerade

"Maybe." His gaze flickers in my direction. "Was it?"

"Maybe."

He grins, shaking his head. "You're coming over after work, Madeline."

"You really want me to?" I don't know why I find that so hard to believe. I guess part of me expects him to be tired of me already. We slept together. We spent all weekend together. Isn't this supposed to be the part where he runs?

He isn't running.

I don't think he intends to run at all.

Why aren't I running?

I need to talk to Tyler because my head is all messed up over this man, and I have no freaking clue what I'm doing. All I know for sure is that I want to keep doing whatever this is.

He doesn't say anything until he pulls into my driveway and kills the engine. And then he turns to me, slipping his hand around the back of my neck to force me to look at him. Our eyes tangle, his blazing with sincerity.

"If your gorgeous ass isn't on my doorstep fifteen minutes after you get off work, I'm going to tear this entire fucking town apart, unicorn," he says, his voice somber. "Today is going to be the longest fucking day of my life."

"Mine too," I whisper.

When I walk through the doors to Dooley Advertising an hour later, Tyler is pacing outside my office, a scowl on his handsome face.

"You're late," he growls.

"And you're lucky you're still breathing," I retort, stalking toward him. "I hate you, Tyler Dooley."

"What the fuck did I do?" He furrows his brows at me, looking like he has no clue.

"Oh, I don't know." I slam my hands down on my hips to glare at him. "Let's think about it. Where did you send me on Halloween?"

"To the party atTrick or Treat?"

"Right. And what did you tell me about the party?"

"That everyone would be dressed up… Oh. Shit." He rubs a hand over his beard, trying to hide a smile. But that stupid hand can't hide the humor in his eyes.

"Yeah, shit." I scowl daggers at him. "I hate you so much."

"What did you do, baby cousin?"

"I showed up dressed in a freaking unicorn onesie, Tyler!" I cry, stabbing him in the chest with my fingernail. "I was the only one in the entire bar in a costume!"

He throws his head back, roaring with laughter.

I should have brought Drake to work with me to help me carry his overgrown stupid body out of here after I kill him. There's no way I can do it myself.

I practically drag him into my office by his Charlie Brown tie, tugging slightly harder than necessary in the hopes that it chokes him.

"Jesus Christ," he wheezes when I reluctantly release him once we're over the threshold. He rubs his throat. "Easy there, killer."

"Oh, you're going to wish I had murdered you by the time I'm finished with you." I spin toward my desk, making sure to smack him with my purse in the process. Revenge is so satisfying. I really should have hopped on this train earlier in life. "I walked in there thinking everyone would be in costume, only to find myself standing in a sea of expensive ballgowns."

He chuckles again. "I fucked up."

"Clearly," I sniff, arranging a stack of files on my desk.

"Doesn't explain why the fuck I had to go beating on the Sheriff's door to find out you went home with Drake Whitlock," he says "Or why you didn't come home all weekend."