Page 51 of She is the Darke
He ignored her question and made his way to the rack with her size. Okay, he was good at guessing the sizes of strangers. Maybe it was a party trick or something. She could shotgun two beers in a row, so probably hers was cooler but okay.
Whooooo that boy was fine. She could see his muscles rippling in his arms as he sifted through costumes. And his eyes? He kept darting quick glances at her, like he was having trouble looking away, and he was a hot boy so she was feeling pretty full of herself right about now.
“My name is Callum.”
“And your name is hot, too.” She shook her head and turned back to the mirror. “Of course it is.” In the mirror, she thought she saw his lips curve up in a slight smile, but she blinked and it was gone.
“What’s your name?” he asked in a careful tone.
“Stacia Gertrude Wallace.” She fixed one of the wig curls. “My parents did not believe in giving me a hot person name.”
“They did just fine. Here,” he said, holding up a costume bag. “Try this one.”
She looked at the identification tag taped across the front of it and smiled. “Nice.”
Callum did smile now and it was cute enough to set off some Fourth of July worthy fireworks in her ovaries. “I like your face.”
He blinked slowly and stared.
“It’s very symmetrical. And chiseled. And kind of familiar? But I’m pretty sure I haven’t ever met you because I would definitely remember you. Maybe I saw you in a Walmart or something. Have you ever been to Andover?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the privilege yet.” He spoke so formally and had a hint of an accent she couldn’t put her finger on. Sexy sexy mystery man.
“So, you live around here? Or are you just here working for festival season?” she asked conversationally.
He disappeared into her dressing room and hung the costume he’d chosen, then returned. Without hesitation, he gripped her hips, turned her so that her back was to him, and began loosening the laces of her bodice.
She was entranced by the confidence he had, and the steadiness of his fingers as he loosened the top but didn’t let it fall.
“You’re very good at this,” she whispered.
Another crooked smile that just about buckled her knees, and he said, “It feels like old times.”
That was a weird response, but okay. He was hot so if he was a little dumb, he was automatically forgiven.
“I live here,” he told her. “My family is in the area, so I don’t stray far.”
“Aaah, a local. Then you will know all the fun places to go around here.”
He leaned on the wall by the mirror and dragged his eyes hungrily down her curves and back up. “Did you just arrive in town?”
She held the bodice tightly to her torso so it wouldn’t slip and flash him. “Just an hour ago. I’m here until the day after Halloween.”
“Mmmm. You’re different.”
“Different isn’t always good.”
“Yes it is.” He gestured to her eyes. “Two colors. I didn’t expect that.”
She let off a laugh. “No one ever does. My parents and grandparents all have brown eyes, and then I came along. Lighter skin, lighter hair, and hazel and blue eyes. My dad always jokes that I’m the milkman’s baby.”
“However it happened, it suits you.”
Her cheeks flushed again. He was so direct when he talked, and his bright eyes bore right through her. Maybe he wore colored contacts this time of year too, like Alex. For costumes and stuff.
“The Marie Antoinette costume is a yes. Go see if the one I picked out works too.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She wasn’t a woman who let a man tell her what to do in general, but with Callum, he could tell her to fly to the moon and she’d start a-flappin’ her arms.